On the Run

It’s been 15 years since she decided to stand up, and leave. Leave the fist full of rage, and countless days of covering those black & blue bruises that lined her torso, and the random black eyes hidden below the primer, maybelline & concealer.    
 
A rotator cuff severed whilst donning fractures on the entire ribcage. Several broken bones and other fractures that littered her skeletal frame that never quite healed, are a constant reminder to keep herself fit & healthy, and to herself whilst observant and vigilant when navigating her way through society.    
   
Hiding swollen lips with open wounds after blood spooled became metallic offerings he licked after kicking her guts in, killing his own bloodline.    
   
Even  a coroner would be astounded by the catalogue of injuries that remain etched into her lithe frame.    
   
He still looks for her as he dedicated his life to hunting her down like an animal whilst tracking her movements, and she never stays in one place long enough to form meaningful relations, and those she seeks out for temporary solace are oft built upon a foundation of half truths, to avoid coming on to his radar.    
   
She is the hunted.    
   
However, when she saw him from a distance whilst parked on the pier, the adrenaline started to flow as she noticed the swift change in her breathing pattern as she watched him loitering the footpath, whilst scoping the boardwalk.    
   
In the 45 mins he scanned the pier, she noted how he changed his appearance twice, donning a khaki jacket with blue shorts and boots, then switching to a faded navy jumper with green and white flip flops.    
   
She photographed him throughout this time, gathering evidence which entailed the little things like jotting down the plate number of the shabby red & white fuck truck hippy van he was driving, and picking up 2 of his butted out cigarette butts which would contain his DNA.  
   
Having known his vehicle will be littered with firearms, soon after he left the pier she passed on the photographs and details along with other relevant content to a former colleague to enable authorities to start tracking & monitoring him.    
   
Ironically, he is being hunted by other humans, and he doesn’t even know it.    
   
It’s only a matter of time before he swoops as he’s sleeping in his van down by the beach, less than a kilometre from her house, and he hasn’t laid eyes upon her since the last time he attempted to murder her.  
   
His stale cigarette scent was in the air last night, and she knew he’d been jumping fences to gain access to her property, however, the dogs alerted her to a possible threat in which she reached for her firearm, and the silencer.    
   
If if comes down to his or her life, she’s taking his life to save hers and she’s prepared herself psychologically for that moment as she froze the last time he struck.    
   
When nightfalls, she sleeps lightly and the dogs raise the alarm for her to check the CCTV footage that she’s been collecting, post installing micro cameras around her property, and on the street lights of each end of her street, so she’s got a head start in collecting the relevant evidence to pin charges to him, this time.    
   
The last time he evaded authorities but this time he’s going down along with anyone else that’s aided him to avoid prosecution.    
   
A number of jurisdictions already have a dossier on this man, and he’s tangled in a web that won’t enable him to flee, post striking.    
   
He will soon learn his fate.  
   
For now, she lays low and considers her next move whilst biding her time, and ordering another shipping container to pack her house as she’ll be relocating to another locale, some hours away as a circuit breaker to avoid the task he’s assumed.