[ Maybe if she hadn't screamed, she'd still be home free, the snap of the trap be damned. But she's never been as good at gritting her teeth as Jake is, and anytime metal squeezes around her ankle, the pain feels tenfold. Danger. She'll never run again. She'll lose her scholarship. She'll never escape a killer. She —
She's too cocky. Always too cocky, and Trapper isn't quiet when he walks with a heavy gait toward her location. He doesn't even want to hide, and that pisses her off. It frightens her. She's a mixed up cocktail of fury and fear, and her nails scrub impotently around the jaws of the trap, grease making it messy, especially when her nail weasels between the jaws, ripping when she wrenches. Now there's grease and oil and trailing blood, but she is — out?
She stumbles up, ankle oozing, reaches blindly for her flashlight and the boots she tied together by the laces. Then she takes off like a rocket, up the stairs, down the other wing of the building covering the mine, vaults a window and breathes a breath of welcome air and —
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She's too cocky. Always too cocky, and Trapper isn't quiet when he walks with a heavy gait toward her location. He doesn't even want to hide, and that pisses her off. It frightens her. She's a mixed up cocktail of fury and fear, and her nails scrub impotently around the jaws of the trap, grease making it messy, especially when her nail weasels between the jaws, ripping when she wrenches. Now there's grease and oil and trailing blood, but she is — out?
She stumbles up, ankle oozing, reaches blindly for her flashlight and the boots she tied together by the laces. Then she takes off like a rocket, up the stairs, down the other wing of the building covering the mine, vaults a window and breathes a breath of welcome air and —
TWACK.
Stupid.]