I reincarnated in game

8 Hot Pursuit

When Hugh got to the edge of the land, his hopes fell.  There no gap at the end of the wall.  Worse than that, the wall had spikes protruding from it, both at the end and out over the edge.  The spikes were sharp, with jagged metal barbs, honed to cut through the flesh of anyone, or anything, who dared to try getting around it.  It was probably designed that way to keep the beasts of the Punished Land out.   Right now, it was equally effective at keeping Hugh in.  

Hugh watched the setting rays of the sun glinting off the metal barricade from his hiding spot in some nearby bushes.  “Damn it!  I was hoping to be able to get around there,” Hugh said, dejectedly.  “Now, I have no option but to double back; hopefully I will be able to find a place to hide out until the heat dies down.”  

He walked back toward a few abandoned buildings that he had passed along the way.  “Maybe I can hide here; at least for a while,” he thought to himself.  He found a burnt-out house that still had a partial roof over it.  The wood was mostly blackened and charred but some of the original paint colours could be seen in a few places; the windows, all broken.  It was not the best, but it would have to do.  At least it had multiple exits, just in case he had to leave in a hurry. 

The attendees had stopped gathering tribute after the commotion over the fake coins; Father Paul needed them to accompany him on his mission to apprehend Hugh.  They had walked for hours, using Father Paul’s magic to track Hugh’s path; they could see where he had doubled back, several times, to confuse them.  Even though Hugh had hoped that he had successfully covered his tracks, the priest and his followers could not be shaken.   

It was just before dawn when Hugh heard voices coming into the area of the abandoned buildings.  He immediately came alert; he listened intently.  It seemed that there were several people approaching.

Father Paul held the holy amulet which hung around his neck.  His eyes glowed white.  The wind kicked up and swirled around him.  Light cascaded from his being; he pointed in the general direction of the cluster of abandoned buildings where Hugh was hiding.  “I sense that he is in this general vicinity; my tracking spell works only when the subject is within a one-mile radius, and there is less than that between us and the perimeter … Fan out and find him!” 

“Damn it! I didn’t take into account that he would be able to track me with his magic,” Hugh said to himself.

Feeling like a hunted animal, Hugh moved quietly through the structure, attempting to evade discovery.  Right now he had the advantage of the pre-dawn darkness; that would change when the sun came up over the horizon.

The attendees and some of the guards from the city, all armed with modified steam-power crossbows, swarmed the area; combing through the buildings, one by one, looking for their quarry.  

Hugh looked over the ledge of a window near where he was hiding; he crouched down lower, as one of the searchers walked past.  When one of the guards walked into the front door of the building he was in, Hugh moved closer to the back of the house.  He went towards a flight of stairs hoping to find a better hiding spot on the top floor of this two-story house.  Unfortunately, it was just an open room.  He climbed out an open window and hung, suspended above the ground from the second-floor ledge.  Just then, the window closed with a bang; apparently, he had jarred it as he climbed through.

Three more searchers, drawn to the sound, rushed into the house.  Hugh’s hands began to ache from holding his body weight.  He spied the roof of a small verandah slightly below and to his left; he wondered if he could make it over there without falling.  Hugh saw one of his pursuers walk by.  He tried to control his breathing; he did not want to make a sound which would alert the guard to his presence.  Exercising the utmost caution, he quietly shuffled over a little bit more, and then swung his legs towards the small roof.  Unfortunately, he miscalculated and fell hard onto the gravelly surface of the ground. The impact of his body against the gravel caused everyone in the area to move toward his position.  To make matters worse, just then, the sun peeked over the horizon.

Hugh didn’t waste time.  He jumped to his feet and ran as fast as he could, away from the pursuers.  Suddenly, he found himself at the brim of the precipice at the perimeter.  He looked over the edge and realized there wasn’t anywhere for him to go.  He turned.  He saw he was surrounded.  His back was against the proverbial wall.  He looked over his shoulder into the vast chasm; wind whipped past him.

“We have you now … Come with us,” said one of the guards at the front of the group.

“You will pay for your crime against the god of light!” yelled Father Paul, at the top of his lungs.

Hugh had always believed that he should be in control of his own destiny; that it should not be left to others.  He wasn’t about to let that change because some religious zealot wanted to decide how he lived his life, or how he would die ... 

“Oh, hell!  With that, Hugh closed his eyes and stepped back.  He fell over the side.

Father Paul rushed to the edge and looked down; he saw Hugh being buffeted by the winds as he fell towards the Fourth Level Land far below.  He was very familiar with the winds that blew between the lands and knew that, without protection, death was inevitable.  Furthermore, based on a quick extrapolation of his trajectory, he calculated that Hugh would fall into the abyss.  Hugh was doomed to death.

“You fool!  You are going to fall into the Abyss of the Demon!  Your soul will forever be damned!  You would have died anyway, but by our hand, it would have been a pure, clean, righteous death!”

A few of the attendees and guards walked to the edge and stared in disbelief; they would never have imagined that someone would jump over the edge.  They were relieved to hear Father Paul confirm that there was no way Hugh could survive; not one of them was prepared to volunteer to go down and search for him in the filthy slums of Fourth Level Land.

From the time Hugh’s feet left solid ground, the winds howled about him; battering his body from all sides.   He clutched the urn, which hung around his neck, tightly in his hand.  His thoughts went back to his mom, and the few moments of love he had experienced with her before she died.  These would be his last thoughts before the inevitable end, enveloped him.