Hunter's Prey

S.O.S.

If wasn’t physically incapable, I probably would have spent the rest of the week pacing. Or make a plan of escape I could actually carry out. Most likely both, but I wasn’t. I was stuck in a mountainside mansion, staying in a lavish room, basically forced to take a vacation. How ironic. I’m finally on a break, and it was because I didn’t complete my mission.

Even from what I could do, it was still useless. I had gotten Hawthorne- a man I quickly realized was the only human on Baines's security team- to take me out back where they’d found me the morning after I awoke. I could practically hear the questions he had for me, but evidently, he knew better than to ask. I could see the disturbance of the snow where I’d nearly died, but new snow had nearly wiped away any trace of it.

Near the base of the mountain, the trees were the only thing other than myself that had yet to heal. Many of the branches had snapped and were scattered across the floor like a destroyed nest for a large bird. Looking up the mountainside, it was honestly a surprise I hadn’t been injured worse- or killed. I had fallen about 3 floors, and the rest of the steep cliff was full of random juts and sharp ledges. Spotting the ledge I had initially planned on falling to, I wondered if my rifle was still up there. If it was, it was going to be hidden well by the new snowfall. It wasn’t like I was going to be able to get up there and get it, maybe if she wasn’t injured she could.

Dread really set in when I realized I had no realistic way of completing the assignment, and possibly worse, I was going to have to inform OS13 of the situation and why. I hadn’t failed OS13 since she ‘encouraged’ me to fight for the Agent 6 spot- still no one made it up to the Overseer level by being nice. First things first I had to find a way to contact her. I was hoping the solution was simple, but first I needed to find a computer.

Hawthorne assisted me into the library, his phone buzzing as soon as we stepped in, “excuse me for a moment.” I nodded as he stepped out. Good riddance. I held onto various pieces of furniture as I made my way over to the desk where I’d spotted a computer. Settling down in the seat, I noticed a little sticky note sitting on the monitor.

Feel free to use the guest account - Richard

Interesting. I turned the computer on and waited for it to load. Normally, I’d carry a phone on my missions. This time I’d left it behind on the ATV, though I’m pretty sure that even if I did have it on me, it would have gotten destroyed in the fall. Finally, it booted up and I could vaguely hear Hawthorne out in the hall. I assume he was on a call, but I can’t make out what he’s saying through the thick wood of the door.

With the internet browser up, there was one last easy way of getting ahold of OS13. An email. Top Agents and their Overseers typically had several burner email accounts, ones that operated off of the Organization’s networks. Opening up sss, I quickly logged in and drafted a vague and to-the-point message;

Mrs. L

Assignment failed, I was unable to get off the mountain before the storm hit. I will be able to return once the storm subsides.

-A

Hawthorne reentered as I sent the email. He stayed near the door, seemingly enthralled by whatever books were on the nearby bookshelf- though he never actually picked up any of the books. I minimized the window and rubbed my eyes, a book was set just off to the side of the computer with another sticky note on it;

Enjoy my small collection, though I recommend this book.

I picked up the book, its hard cover was bound in black with a simple picture of a man cloaked in all yellow and large red wings. “THE KING IN YELLOW” was branded in white font in the top right corner, hovering over the yellow man. Opening the cover to the publication page, I noticed the date of publication, 1895. I can’t help but be impressed, Baines had likely gotten this when it was originally printed and kept this copy in good condition all these years. Flipping through, the pages wore their age well and remained strong not threatening to rip or crumble. I’d heard of The King In Yellow, mostly about its influences on other works of art and literature, but I’ve never been able to read it.

A small pop-up brought my attention back up to the computer screen. OS 13 had responded. The quick response was surprising, I didn’t imagine OS13 sitting at her desk checking her emails, but maybe luck was on my side for once.

Ms. A

Get back ASAP. We will discuss upon your arrival.

L

Not sure what I expected, but at least now she knew I wasn’t dead, and to be expecting me back. Maybe she’ll help me get back into HQ without being spotted. That’d save me the unnecessary jabs and extra rumors and gossip spread around about me.

I quickly deleted the email chain, then signed out, completely- making sure the browser didn’t save my email address before closing the window and shutting off the computer. Picking up the book, I stood and turned to Hawthorne, “I’d like to go back to my room now.”

He snapped to attention and nodded, briskly meeting me halfway and assisting me out of the library and down the hall to my room. Luckily, the library and my room were on the same floor, unluckily they were still on opposite ends of a large house. Still, Hawthorne and I hobbled. Well. More like I hobbled and Hawthorne had to walk extra slow and hold me as carefully as possible.

I hate this. I hate feeling this helpless and reliant on the mercy of others. I just need to grit my teeth and beat the pain a little more, maybe then I’ll gain more independence as I walk the halls for the next week.

As we arrive at my door, I mumble Hawthorne a quick ‘Thanks’ and push into my room on my own leaving him outside as I shut the door. I take a deep breath as I lean against the door. Clenching my jaw, I take a confident step forward. Daggers immediately shot up my leg making me stumble and catch myself with my good leg. I take another deep breath, then another step, this time being as careful as I could manage. I could feel my whole body go cold as my broken leg pulled all the feeling there.

I stop, taking quite a few shallow breaths, one deep one, and a large step. Halfway there. I slowly exhale, and another deep breath followed by another large step. One more to go… I practically collapse as soon as I’m in reach of the bed. I’m just going to stay in bed as much as I can, like what any mentally sound person would do. I mentally scold myself. I can’t let my pride get the best of me here.

The storm will break in another few days, 4 or 5 max. I just had to wait. I slowly pried The King In Yellow out of my white knuckles. At least I had a book to keep me entertained.