13 comments/ 4823 views/ 3 favorites F5: Invasion of the Orcs By: JagFarlane F5: Invasion of the Orcs (Author's note: This story is an entry into FAWC (Friendly Anonymous Writing Challenge), a collaborative competition among Lit authors. FAWC is not an official contest sponsored by Literotica, and there are no prizes given to the winner. Every story for this FAWC begins with the exact same line. Where it goes from there is up to the author.) * * * * Upon the table lay three items: a handkerchief, a book, and a knife. These items were soon joined by a small shovel and a length of paracord. Several boxes of hollow point .40 along with a couple of magazines and a Smith & Wesson M&P .40 were placed on the table. Moments later the items were loaded into the dark green pack, magazines and spare ammunition placed last, in the outer slash pockets. The pack was lifted up and slung over the owners' right shoulder, then left, with the hip belt buckled in snugly. The M&P .40 was slid into a holster on the right thigh, not the most convenient place for it, but the thigh would have to do. To the back door she went, pausing only for a second to glance back at the inside of her home one last time, then out she ran not even bothering to shut the door behind her. She ran till her lungs felt like they were going to give out, collapsing to her knees amidst the forest foliage then falling upon her left side, chest heaving to try and catch her breath. A quick glance at her watch revealed that a half hour had passed. Her eyes closed and mentally she thanked the track coach that had encouraged her to train for marathons. She could still hear his voice in her mind, "Laura! Slower Laura, slower! Speed will come once you conquer distance!" She wondered if perhaps he'd made it out too, how many had actually made it out in time. When her breathing and heart rate had calmed to an acceptable level, she reached down to grab the water tube. Lightly she brushed off the visible dirt on the bite valve and put it in her mouth to take two small sips. While she was of the school that resources were better held in the body than out, until she could get to a source of water and the time to filter it she would be rationing what she had. Slowly rising up, Laura's head whipped around, trying to place where she'd exactly run to, or at least a decent proximity. A sigh as she thought of the GPS unit left behind, no longer useful, not since the day before. She'd brought along a compass, the one her father had given her when she was ten and flirting with the idea of being a Girl Scout, but without a map it was nearly useless. Sighing, she began to walk in the only direction that made sense for now, further away from town. For once in her life, squirrels became the enemy, as they bounced around the forest floor. Each landing sounded like footsteps, and if they hadn't sent her into a panic every time they occurred, she would have smiled recalling father's hunting stories. Now they just caused her heart rate to spike with each innocent landing, causing her to jump and press herself against the nearest tree trunk. The sounds of helicopter blades overhead made her thankful for the late spring foliage shielding her from above. Slowly she picked her way through the forest floor, trying to tread in a manner that would leave little tracks, walking toe to heel instead of heel to toe. Occasionally she paused to listen around her, hoping to hear the trickle of one of the spring-fed creeks in the area and praying that she didn't hear the sound of anyone hunting her. Time passed agonizingly slowly, her keeping the slow pace while the sun still hung in the sky. As she walked a rudiment plan began to formulate, dependent upon finding a creek or stream and nothing larger. If she could find a creek, she hoped to be able to travel it at night and attempt to build a shelter to hide during the day. This did mean that she would have to stop wherever a suitable location for hiding presented itself, but considering that the days were still growing longer she was willing to make that sacrifice. Anything to keep from being captured and shipped off to one of the camps. Shortly before nightfall her ears finally heard the sound of water running, bubbling over the rocky land. Fighting all desire to make a quick dash over, Laura paused and crept up on the water, wary of anyone that might be waiting for her there. Painstakingly slowly she made her way over, till there were only a couple of feet remaining. At that point she couldn't hold back the excitement and made a quick sprint over to kneel by the creek side and splash the cool water upon her face. Deciding the place was as good as any to rest until the sun was fully set, she soaked the handkerchief in the creek and wrapped it around the back of her neck. Settling against a tree trunk, she brought the pack up against her side, ever wary in case a random Dai soldier patrolled out this way. Feeling about as safe as she had in days, Laura allowed her emotions to come forwards, tears streaming down her face as she sobbed. * * * * Three weeks prior astronomers were celebrating the return of the Swift-Tuttle comet, returning on its 133 year journey. The comet was just within sight for the naked eye, treating amateurs and professionals to a good show. When several objects seemed to break away from the comet, the professionals made note of it, presuming them to be space debris and giving no further thought. One day later a sphere crash landed in Beijing, kicking up a mound of debris around it. Within twenty four hours it was joined by another dozen of the strange, dark green spheres. The Chinese, efficient and highly protective of their capital city, quickly had it surrounded with a company of ZTZ-99 tanks and a platoon of their latest design the MBT-3000. Ariel coverage was provided by their Z-10 attack helicopters. There they waited and observed the perfectly smoothed surface, while scientists, politicians, and military leaders debated how to approach the object. The world was on edge, with no one aware of where the spheres had come from. The internet was aflame with conspiracy theorists demanding that the world's governments come clean about all they knew while behind ornate wood doors the world's leaders sweated out their true lack of knowledge. CNN dedicated full 24/7 coverage claiming it was a scare tactic by Republicans to get more military funding. Fox News countered with experts claiming this was a show being put on by the Chinese to demonstrate superiority. The masses went about their days as normal, as exciting as the news was the need for a paycheck outweighed the anticipation. Just as progress was being made in the endless political debates, in being able to calm down those who outright wanted to blow up the object, a white air like steam began to stream out of the spheres. TV cameras whipped from the reporters in front of them to zoom in, watching as rectangular sections began to rise up. The world waited with baited breath as the apparent doors lifted away and off to the side. The view of the inside was distorted by the steam, fully zoomed cameras only able to make out a variety of lights within. The mayor of Beijing, left out of the day's discussions, stepped towards the spheres his left hand held high in greetings. As he reached a few meters from the rim of the crater, a beam of purple light shot forth from the initial sphere, and the mayor disappeared from view. For a few long seconds the world stood still as people absorbed what had just occurred. The first piercing scream tore through the still air shocked everyone back to the present. Cameras remained focused on where the mayor had been, revealing the smoking remains of his lower legs. Panic ensured in the crater area as citizens fled the grounds while the troops headed towards the spheres. Meter long flames spurt forth from the tank turrets while rockets roared overhead, the explosions raising smoke and dust high into the air and obscuring everyone's view. When the smoke and dust thinned out, the molten piles of what had been the tanks were all that remained. The cameras, abandoned by their operators, remained focused on the spheres. They recorded the first movement, deep green fingers coming to rest upon the edge of an opening. Seconds later they flexed as the figure leapt out and onto the solid ground. The figure was dressed from the neck down in a dull, silver metallic armor. Its head was blocky, belaying a muscular form, in the same deep hunter green coloring as its fingers. The hair upon its head was black, oily, and wild, continuing down its face into a greasy short beard. The creature looked back at the spheres and swung it's right hand forwards, signaling for the others to follow suit. Around the world panic ensued, politicians were whisked away to hopefully secure underground bunkers. Those lucky enough to have bought a house with an old Cold War nuclear bunker began to make preps to hide in them. The talking heads on tv attempted to relay some forms of information, trying to appear useful. At best they only managed to get out estimates on the average size of the beings, one and a half meters, and that they were moving about the land via a sort of jump pack. * * * * Laura had been in her Intro to Environmental Sciences class, listening to the professor drone on about the importance of fungi to the forest when the news broke out. Several students who had been perusing the news instead of taking notes on their laptops cried out in horror as the real time news played upon their screens. Within a minute or two the entire class had surrounded themselves around any device capable of streaming the news. Even the professor had given up in mid-sentence, lower lip quivering in the horror that was going on across the ocean. Class was dismissed when the professor finally snapped back to reality. By the looks of the parking lot, she guessed that every class was being dismissed as people realized what was going on. She turned on the police scanner upon getting in her car, wondering if she could figure out what they had her father doing. Preparing for it, she thought, and then wondered what exactly anyone could do to prepare for this attack. In between reports on the scanner she listened to the radio stations, most of which had ceased to play music in order to bring news. What little news was stated was spread out with banter between hosts trying to figure out what was going on. Laura shook her head as she listened to them referencing various science fiction movies and books. Arriving home she found a letter awaiting her on the table: Laura, Got called into the station, senior detectives meeting. Not sure when I'll be home so I left you a meatloaf ready to put in the oven. Bake it at 350F for one hour. Be sure to lock up at nightfall if I'm not home and feel free to put the leftovers in the fridge. Love you, Dad With a sigh, she dropped her backpack on a chair, feeling no point in trying to do any homework. She grabbed a Mountain Dew out of the fridge and flopped on the couch, turning on the tv to find some news coverage. During lulls in the coverage she made her dinner, musing about how there was danger on the planet and yet she really didn't feel afraid at the moment. Odd how that was, but there were only a few of them and humans had so many millions of weapons at their disposal. The stress bleed and heavy meal began to overcome the caffeine and sugar of her drink, causing Laura to drift in and out of sleep on the couch. News reports became questionable as she wasn't sure if they were being reported or if they were things she'd dreamed up. During one blink of her eyes, she swore that Michael Jackson was doing the moonwalk on a sphere. A scene of more spheres peeling off from the comet was dismissed away as probably another dream. She vaguely remembered hearing her father come in or that he laid a blanket upon her. By the time she woke up in the morning her father had already departed. Laura rose and went about making herself a cup of coffee in the Keurig while flicking the tv back on to see if any solid information had developed overnight. Adding in a dash of sugar and cream, Laura stirred the coffee as she entered the living room in time to see a world map displayed across the screen. She watched as red dots representing spheres began to appear across the map. First Beijing, then Moscow, Sydney, Kuala Lumpur, New Delhi, Bucharest, and many other large cities and capitals lit up. She hadn't noticed her hand shaking until the hot coffee began to splatter upon her wrist. Slowly she settled on the couch, placing the coffee down as she watched wide-eyed at clips of the green beings, apparently labeled now as orcs by some. Being that they were in a small town, tucked away deep in a National Forest, she wasn't yet worried for her own safety. The creatures were still roaming through the cities, seemingly taking their time destroying and slaughtering the human residents. The sheer horror of the event was overwhelming, and yet she found herself glued to the screen, soaking in every minute of it. A couple of hours of watching and the news had droned back to repeating the same things over and over again. Leaving the tv on, Laura began to go around the house assembling bug out bags for the two of them. Her father had shown her how to do it on several occasions and when pot growing season in the forest was going on, usually had a pair setup. The items were placed upon the kitchen table, two a piece, laid out as they would be placed into the packs. The heaviest items would be placed in the center of the packs to keep their balance. When she'd assembled the items for the bags, Laura went to the safe and retrieved the M&P .40 her father had given her. Every time she picked it up, she could hear his words, "never willingly go into a gun fight with anything that doesn't start with a 4." He'd purchased the .40 shortly after the department had purchased them for all the officers. Impressed with the light weight and the smooth trigger, he'd insisted that it would be the one she carried to defend herself. An oiled rag was taken out of the cabinet and wrapped around the pistol, best to keep it covered in the humidity. She placed it along with several extra magazines on the table, sighing and wondering what the point of carrying the extra weight would be. It didn't seem the creatures had a weakness, or at least not to one that humans currently possessed. Then again, as shown in previous riots and wars, it wasn't always the known aggressor that someone had to be wary of. Once the bags were set up, she was beginning to get anxious again from being idle. Wandering over to the fridge, she pulled out a venison chuck, took it to the kitchen island and proceeded to break it down for stew. Way she figured was, there was no way of knowing if the power grid would stay up and stew made a few days' worth of meals. When her father hadn't made it home by supper time, she ate the stew while watching the news. The latest updates showed the orcs making their way through the cities and so far there had been no successful human assaults on them. The sound of someone testing the door lock spooked her back to the present. Laura sat low on the couch, suddenly wishing she'd kept the .40 closer to her instead of the kitchen table. When she heard the sound of a key slipping into the lock and turning the tumblers, Laura breathed out a sigh of relief and a little laugh at how spooky she'd been. When her father opened the door, she gave him a little wave from the couch, "hey Dad! Long time no see!" He gave her a tired smile and walked over to the hallway table to deposit his wallet and keys. "Hey, how are you holding up?" "Well...a little jumpy," she admitted, "but I'll be okay I think. Doesn't look like things are going well are they?" "No, no they aren't. Don't think we'll be keeping things up and going like this too much further. The department's already not responding to a number of calls for minor things. People under too much stress as is. They've had us working eighteen hour days just to keep up with the insanity as people snap from the stress and worry. Seems to be just a matter of time before those...those things start making their way out here. But for now, what's that delicious smell in the air?" He offered her a tired smile, trying to hide his own worries and get her mind off of this for now. She nodded along, not really surprised with anything he told her, having already drawn the same conclusions herself. There really seemed no good answer as to what to do. Laura returned the smile of his, "I'm sure you know its stew. There's some in the Dutch oven in the oven." A little grin, she'd always found those sort of things amusing, an oven in an oven. "There's also a loaf of pumpernickel bread on the table." "Mmmm," his face brightened a little at the thought of the filling meal at hand, "thanks, I really need this." Off to the kitchen he wandered, glancing at the bug out bags and nodding approvingly before turning his attention towards the waiting stew and bread. A bowl was filled up and a large chunk of the bread ripped off the loaf and buttered lavishly. Mark swiped a Miller Lite out of the fridge before coming to the living room and plopping on the couch. Taking the hunk of bread, he dipped it into the gravy and took a large bite, making a very satisfied sound as he chewed. Laura had recently been interested in her mother's old recipe cards and this particular stew was one he hadn't had in six years, not since Maureen had lost her battle to pancreatic cancer. With the recent events he feared this would be the last time he'd get to taste it again. Brushing the thought away after swallowing, he gave Laura a smile, "It's quite good. You're getting really handy around the kitchen, aren't you?" "Well you know Mom used to teach me, so I have the basics. That and she left really good instructions," she smiled in return, trying to hide the bit of pride at the compliment. Her legs tucked under her on the couch, eyes watching the news while letting him have the time to eat. As he ate, she could see the exhaustion crossing his face and had the feeling that even though she had lots of questions, he wouldn't be up long to answer them. So it came to no surprise that when he finished, Mark excused himself to put the empty dishes into the sink and head off to bed. When the local news ended at midnight, her last source of information since many of the major cable networks were shutting down and evacuating, Laura headed off to her bed for a restless night of sleep. Every bump and sound in the night spooked her out of the light slumber she'd conned herself into. By morning she'd fallen into an exhausted sleep, dozing until the sound of a bird right outside her window finally roused her. Walking out of the room she found that her father had already headed out for another long day of work. Shaking her head lightly, Laura began her day's routine, first by stretching herself out. Donning a pair of shorts and a sweatshirt, out the door she went for a jog. As a kid she'd always loved to run and when her mother had passed was when she became serious about it. Putting in long miles on the roads and trails allowed her the time to mull things through with little interruption. Today was no exception as the run gave her the chance to feel a bit of normalcy after the past couple of days events and escape into the rhythm. The calm demeanor on the street was almost strange when she considered the destruction going on in the cities. Yet, there wasn't anything she thought that she would be able to do and so she ran her route, savoring the ability to do something normal for one more hour longer. When finally her route ended with her back inside, Laura did a post-run stretch and stripped out of her running clothes. F5: Invasion of the Orcs She paused to look at her reflection in her dresser mirror. Her figure was lithe, body taut and toned, her chest topped with a small set of breasts that had failed to ignite much attention from the men her age. For as much as she'd heard of guys liking fit women, it didn't seem to work in her favor. Laura's only real sexual interaction had been during a drunken 7 Minutes of Heaven game during a summer party before college started. Being eighteen and highly curious of the opposite sex, she'd readily agreed to the game and soon found herself in a darkened closet with a slightly chubby young man. Taking full advantage of the time, she'd skipped with the kissing and went straight to unzipping his khakis, greedily taking his cock in her mouth. He hadn't lasted very long, nor gave her much in the way of warning before flooding her mouth with his load. Unfortunately he still remained the only cock she'd gotten to play with so far. Having remembered that night riled her hormones, not that it took much, her hand slipping into a drawer. Into the back of the drawer she went till her fingers wrapped around the latex shaft. The toy was her only one, bought as a gag gift by a girlfriend when she was nineteen. The area that Laura lived in was fairly religious and kept out those who were interested in opening an adult shop. She'd entertained the thought of buying one online that was a little more suitable in size, but if her father had found the package she would have been mortified. And so she was left with the dildo she had in hand, a replica of some pornstar she'd never heard of, a Mr. James Deen who seemed to be rather thickly endowed. Taking the dildo with her, she got into the shower and while the water warmed she affixed the suction cup against the back wall. The tip of her finger flung the end, her eyes watching as the toy bounced and wondered if a real cock did the same. Laura soaped up her washrag and slowly scrubbed herself down, in the back of her head remembering that each shower could be the last time she got to have one. After thoroughly scrubbing her skin, she pulled out her razor and touched up her bald pussy. Porn had given her the idea that men found that attractive and after a couple of times of doing it, she'd found that she enjoyed the feeling of water running down the smooth skin. With the razor away, she turned her attention back to the dildo, kneeling before it. Her eyes closed, imaging it to be the real thing as her lips pressed up against the head, then parted to let the toy slip into her mouth. Every few days she like to take the time, when she knew she wouldn't be discovered, to try and practice what she'd seen in porn videos. Deepthroating had turned out to be much harder than it appeared and so that was the main focus of her training, working on trying to get more to fit down into her throat. Releasing the toy from her mouth and watching a bit of the spit fall down as a string from her lips, Laura turned around and leaned back, guiding the toy into her soaked hole. A long sigh slipped from her lips as she took the toy into her, feeling the latex stretch her out. It had taken a couple of months before she'd been able to take the girth of the toy, but now she savored the sweet feeling of being full. Laura took it slow at first, waiting till she felt comfortable, and then quickly rode the toy to orgasm. Reluctantly she slid off of it, her body craving more but her mind was slowly drifting back to reality. She washed her hair out, twice, and conditioned it while savoring the fact that she still could enjoy such luxuries. Stepping out of the shower, she sighed to herself, hoping that she wouldn't die a virgin or at least got to lose it of her own will. Stepping out of the bathroom with a towel around her midsection, she could heard the television droning on with news of the invasions. Slowly she towel dried her chin length brunette hair while watching the latest reports. Astronomers, secure away in their remote viewing locations had fixed in on the Swift-Tuttle comet and were reporting constant streams of spheres headed towards Earth. Some seemed to come from the comet, others from nearby, leading to the theory that the comet was merely a shield. Not that it mattered so much since Earth had no means of retaliation. The spheres were beginning to spread out from the cities, working their way into the suburbs. They were targeting the centers of local commerce, the Wal-Marts and Targets of the towns. A slight smirk crossed her face as she noted the choice of stores, well that one had certainly made itself attractive to them hadn't it? The coffee maker was started as she went into the bedroom to get dressed, putting on some of her hiking clothes. All things considered it was better to be ready for a trip into the woods. Part of her wanted to leave right then and there, just get it over with and be on her way, but her father still working anchored her to the town. Laura didn't want to leave without him and she knew that he wouldn't leave until he was forced to. While sipping her coffee she busied herself with unpacking the bags and getting set to repack them. At the minimum she wanted to replace the water, stale water tended to be unpleasant, and more importantly it gave her something to do. She finished with her father's pack first, tugging the straps down tight so that the load would stay as still and centered as possible. A short break was taken so that she could refill her coffee mug and grab couple of hard boiled eggs to snack on. When she finished refilling the water bladder and several bottles, Laura turned her attentions to the .40. She removed the magazine and racked the slide back to remove the round in the chamber. Once unloaded, she removed the slide completely and began to coat over the barrel and interior of the slide with a light layer of Break-Free. Reassembling the pistol, she loaded the magazine and racked a round into the chamber. She tucked the pistol in her belt at the small of her back, smirking a bit as she knew it irked her dad when she did that. At the moment though, the weight of the pistol was a security blanket to her. Grinning to herself for a couple of seconds, she trotted over to her father's liquor cabinet and pulled out a bottle of Stoli vodka and his flask. She took a swig for herself, grimacing a little at the burn of warm vodka, and proceeded to fill the flask. That vodka could be used as an antiseptic was her excuse, though she hoped that it wouldn't come to that. The flask she tucked securely away in one of the pockets of her pack. Out to the porch she went, weary of the constant and depressing news, to sit upon an Adirondack chair. She watched the clouds moving across the skies, wishing her mind were as calm as the clouds. Instead, her thoughts raced, wondering just how much time she had left in her home. Occasionally she could see the bright flare of another sphere burning through the atmosphere, headed to the next target. As if to answer her questions, the house and ground shook beneath her, followed shortly after by a wave of hot air and dust flying down the street. Once she was able to get to her feet, Laura jumped first to the railing of the porch, then down to the sidewalk to see what had caused it. Her fears were confirmed as the dust began to settle and the sparkle of metal glinted in the sunlight. Her heart raced as she ran back inside, almost on autopilot going straight for the table with the bug out bags. Laura finished packing the bag with the items that were on the table and then ran over to grab a couple more boxes of ammo. These she tucked away into the bag before strapping on the thigh holster and strapping the pistol into it. She left the other bag on the table in hopes that her father would still be alive and knowing he would need it. One last lingering look was paid to her home, knowing it would most likely not look the same by evening. Wiping away a tear, she turned and ran out the backdoor towards the woods. * * * * Drying her sore eyes, Laura used the handkerchief to wipe away the salt and finally took a look around her. In the fading evening light she barely recognized the stream, but could see enough to figure out roughly where she was. More importantly she knew that twenty miles down the stream would merge with several others until eventually it ran into a river. There was a watersports rental facility that she and her father had agreed to meet at should they be separated in an emergency. She rinsed the handkerchief of the salt in the stream, then folded it lengthwise and laid it upon the back of her neck, tying it lightly to the front. Rising up, she shouldered the pack again and began to pick her way down along the stream using the fading sunlight. The moon was three quarters full, giving her enough light to make her way without having to turn on a flashlight. Slowly she walked through the woods, careful not only for drawing the attention of the orcs but also wary of copperheads that might have curled up for the cool of the night. Gently she'd toe a spot before lowering her heel and working on the next step. It was a slow process but safety overrode the need for speed. As the night began to wane away, Laura began to pay more attention to her surroundings away from the stream. Her eyes began to search out the occasional pockets of pines that dotted the landscape. An hour from the breaking of dawn she found a suitable thicket. Within the pines she pulled out the paracord, the book, and a hatchet. Using the book as a reminder to the steps, Laura carefully trimmed limbs and slowly tied them together to create a lean-to shelter just large enough for her to lay out and store her pack. Once the shelter was done, she crept out to the stream and slipped one tube of the filter into the water. First she filled up the bottles to refill her water bladder and then partially filled a collapsible sink. This she carried gingerly back to her shelter and settled in for the day. First she setup her little hiking stove, surrounding it with a heat shield and then putting a pot of water on to boil. This she used to make herself a quick meal of Mountain House beef stew, and a few dashes of Tabasco. Hungrily she wolfed down the meal and put another pot of water on the stove, not letting this one get quite to boiling. The warm water was poured into the collapsible sink and mixed with a few drops of camp soap. Laura first used the soapy water to clean up her couple of dishes and set them aside to dry. She then setup a small sheet under her and stripped off her clothing, putting it up to air and dry out. The handkerchief was then used to slowly give herself a sponge bath. Sighing at the simple pleasures of the warm water scrubbing away the night's sweat and dirt, she mused at the luxurious shower she'd had just a day before. Once the bath was done, she dried herself off with a camp towel and hooked it up to air dry out. Leaning back on the pack, she pulled out the book and flicked through its well-worn pages. A little smile played on her face as she noted her father's notes, written in margins. It was an old Scout book he'd picked up at the local Goodwill and insisted that she keep it with her whenever she ventured out. Turning to a page on knife sharpening she pulled her Case knife out of the backpack and opened its three blades to inspect them. Running her thumb along the side of the blade, she tested for nicks and the relative sharpness of the edge. Then, glancing at the book just to verify her memory, she took a fine stone and gently coaxed a sharper edge in two of the three blades. The knife was folded and put into her pants pocket. Wrapping herself up in her sleeping bag, she pulled her pack up to her head to use as a pillow and drifted off into an exhausted slumber. The sound of rain gently hitting the stream caused her to awake a few hours later. As much as she would have enjoyed rolling over and going back to sleep, Laura knew it would behoove her to take advantage of the dark skies. With a sigh she dressed herself and packed up her belongings, then covered the pack with a rain-proof cover and donned a poncho. Strapping the pack on, she slipped out of the shelter and began to continue her trek down the stream. The stream's size began to pick up as springs fed into it, then another stream, and another. Taking another sip of water, Laura pushed back the hood of the poncho and looked up at the moon peeking out from the clouds. The wet leaves made for slick travel but the rain had silenced her footfalls. With it gone, she found her mind wandering, wondering if any of her friends had made it out of the town. Purposely she avoided thinking of her father, not wanting to think of what probably had happened. Instead she kept up her pace, determined to make it to the store and hope that she found a familiar face there. Through the forest she trudged until the roar of the river's rapids caught her ears. With a surge of hope she shrugged her pack up a little further on her shoulders and picked up the pace. Within a few minutes the outline of the building came into view and she had to fight to keep from running towards it. Instead, again, she had to suffer the agony of taking an even slower pace as she looked over the building, trying to determine if she were alone or if it was occupied. Slowly she circled the building, stopping at the river and coming back, staying within the woods and progressively getting closer with each sweep. When she came to the edge of the forest, Laura drew her pistol and held it tight with both hands on the grip. A surge of adrenaline shot through her body as she broke out from the cover at a trot and made for the racks of kayaks. Noting that she didn't see or hear anyone, she broke from the kayaks to a Rubbermaid shed, dropping down along its side. Carefully she peeked out from the side of the shed, eyeing the door and then whipping back against the shed as she saw a figure step out from the building. She grit her teeth together as fear overtook her, slowly she moved to peek out from the side of the building. Quickly she noted the handgun the person held, then looked up and recognized first the police uniform shirt, and then the face of her father. "Dad," she screamed as her legs scrambled under her. The figure turned her way as she bolted out from behind the shed and sprinted across the lawn. He barely had time to recognize the person yelling at him and running across the grass when Laura wrapped him up in her arms. Her face buried itself into his shoulder as she let loose her emotions, bawling her eyes out like a toddler. Gently his arms went around her torso, protectively holding her close to him. For a couple of minutes they stood while she just let loose with the tears. The tension of the previous days melting away, and while the fear of what would come in the future was there, for now she felt secure. For now the orcs could not touch her and that was all that mattered at that moment.