Story Continuation

With a resounding bark, a snarling canine leapt from the darkness toward the robed man. The vicious jaws of the brown dog bit hard upon the man's left shoulder. A pain-filled scream escaped from his mouth as he fell back in a struggle with his furry opponent. In a fierce rage, the man swung his right hand down toward the dog, flinching at the sound of the rock hitting the canine's skull. The dog fell lifelessly from the man's now bleeding shoulder.

He sighed heavily, and dropped the bloody rock listening to the dull thud as it hit the floor. Sitting down, he tore away the sleeve from his shoulder wound. Cringing at the sight of the jagged gash, he dipped part of the ripped sleeve into the pool and began to wipe the wound clean. With the rest of the torn cloth he bandaged his shoulder tightly, and watched as the blood began to seep through, staining the fabric.

Picking up his rusty lantern, he stood up and composed himself. Stepping over the furry body of his hunter, he began to walk back through the tunnel towards the outside. After taking a few steps down the tunnel, he stopped suddenly as a thought crossed his mind. He thought it strange how he was only being chased by one hunting dog, while he clearly remembered at least two men chasing him before he escaped into the cave. Another thought came by, reminding him how close they were before he entered. The dog should have been right at his heels, not twenty steps behind. Mindful of this he slowed his pace, holding his lantern and his hurt shoulder and arm close.

Could his pursuers be waiting for him? This thought battered his thoughts, clouding his mind with fear and questions. He came to a sharp bend in the tunnel where he remembered bumping his arm, which agitated a previous wound. He flinched slightly as he rounded the bend, recalling the pain. Further down the tunnel he came to a slope that led into a smaller cavern room. The air in this room was fresher than the rest of the cave. He noticed a pile of five-foot wooden beams at the foot of the slope. Stepping over the toppled wood, he thought about the noise it would have made as it hit the floor. It was this noise that alerted him to the presence of his stalker.

Pausing to catch his breath, he sat down upon the beams. He tightened and adjusted his shoulder bandage, and brushed his hand through his hair. Before standing up he set his lantern down by the woodpile. Moving slowly he walked toward the dark tunnel opposite the slope, where the tunnel curved again towards the outside. Hoping it was still dark he crept slowly around the bend.