At the outskirts of the base, there were guards at one hundred foot intervals. Some had needle weapons strapped to their hands; others had rifles. There was no way I could make it around them without a confrontation. I gripped the sock housing The Abominate’s finger, and walked casually up to the closest guard. When he saw me, he leveled his rifle at me. "Do not come any closer." He grunted. "I have orders from Jockson Reckson." I said, holding up my hands. The other guards turned to see what the commotion was about. The guard didn't believe me, but it was as good of an excuse as I could think of on such short notice. I could see the woods just beyond. It would be the perfect place to hide. If I could make it into the woods, I would be free. I yelled at him, "You must listen to me right now!" A bluff only works if you're completely committed to it. The guard shined a bright light on my face, "You’re a miner? I need to see your identification." I threw the finger sock to him and he caught it. "What is this?" "My identification." I replied. He opened the sock and stuck his hand inside. I was already running toward him when he went limp and fell to the ground. The surrounding guards were confused at the moment so I scooped up the finger sock and ran for the trees. The rest of the guards snapped into action. Bullets and darts shot past me, but their hesitation was enough for me to reach the tree line before any of them could take good aim. I reached the first tree and slid into the perfect darkness of its shadow. "Fan out! After him!" I pressed deeper into the woods, switching my headlamp on to light my way, then off to hide. Behind me, I could hear the soldiers coming. I ran into a clearing, and nearly over the edge of a deep ravine. At its edge, I skidded to a stop. Behind me, there was already the sound of the soldiers approaching. I pulled the purple fuzz-ball, still beating, from my helmet and tucked it into my pocket. Then I threw the headlamp off the cliff and into the ravine. It was far enough down that the light was just visible, but the helmet itself could not be seen. I ran to the left, along the ravine’s edge, over waist high scrub brush, and a few boulders. Most of our people were right handed. We wrote from left to right, so I hoped the soldiers would think I went to the right. Without the headlamp, I could easily have fallen into another ravine, but I was counting on luck this time. I only had a few seconds before the guards would come into the clearing, and I would have to move in silence. Two guards broke into the clearing, and I dropped to the ground. I froze on all fours, watching them stop at the ravine’s edge and look over the side at the helmet lamp’s light below. My lungs were dying for air, but I had to breath slowly to keep from being heard. The first one said, "Did he fall? That light’s not moving." I was crawling away from them as the second guard said, "He either fell or he’s trying to get us to think he fell." They decided that if I fell, I would be too injured to get away. So they fanned out to search the area in case I had not fallen. The soldiers may not have been fooled by my trick but they didn’t have the confidence of their convictions on their hunt. They did not confirm that I did not fall, yet it gnawed in the back of their mind that I might yet be down there. Still, they had lamps and I did not. They split up, the first guard heading away from me to their left, the second right toward me. On my belly, in the grass, I waited for the second guard to pass by. As he clunked through the grass he scared up insects and chipmunks who ran ahead of him. Just as he passed me, I hopped up and touched the back of his neck with the finger. He dropped silently to the ground. I stayed down low hoping to get out of the clearing and back into the cover of wood. My eyes adjusted to the darkness and it was practically bright compared to the darkness I was used to in the mines. In the silence of those woods, every tree creak, every blade of grass that turned in a slight breeze could be heard. Yet I did not hear the hoof beats of the hulking white stag that stood before me! Jockson Reckson described this beast as a monster. It was The Eelk, a mythical creature that has evaded hunters for a generation. He had a huge rack of horns but he did not have fur like other Eelk. He had shiny, scaled skin that made him repulsive to his own kind. There is some supernatural way inside him that produces bolts of electricity when he finds another of his kind that he likes. Therfore, he cannot find love. He cannot find friendship. His family had to abandon him. He was the great symbol of broken hearts and by the looks of him, was a powerful creature not to be trifled with. The Eelk bowed his head to me. The horns came down to my face and I could see tiny pops and ripples of electricity web between the spikes. I can’t explain how I knew this, but he was seeking revenge on Jockson Reckson. He intended to break the heart of my ex-boss. The Eelk turned and lept into the woods as if to have me follow. As soon as he disappeared into the dark I could hear the clamoring of more guards enter the clearing behind me. There were three guards, they ran to the ravine, then fanned out. One tripped on the body of the first guard and called out to the others. I dove into a pile of leaves, burying myself in them. It would have been a terrible hiding place in the daylight, but in the darkness of night it would suffice. They all took off in the wrong direction, assuming they were on my trail. Once the sound of their receding footsteps grew silent, I crawled out of the pile of leaves and continued to the right, after The Eelk, deeper into the woods. It was then, in that darkness, that I was seized by a terrible loneliness. Truly, I was no more free stumbling through those woods than I had been in the mine. The image of Meva came back to me, but it was not a comfort to me. My heart was sick. Nobody loved me and I loved no one. I had seen hog-dogs that were more loved than I. Would I ever know love? Someone save me. Find me. Love me.