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You’d more or less settled into the most secluded and remote cabin you could find in the mountains. More or less, because thanks to Jacob’s hunters, you felt as though there was a glaring target on your back, even through four feet of drywall and building material. Out in the woods it was worse, but even here at home, there was the constant creeping dread that you were being watched.
It had taken an embarrassingly short amount of time for his hunters to capture you before and you winced even now as you rubbed your hand over the bandaged leg that caught the bliss arrow. The point had sunk into your very bone, you were sure, and you were in no hurry relive the experience. So you lived with one eye open, scoured the region for those in need of help with one eye open, and hell, you probably would have slept with one eye open if you’d been sleeping at all.
The only thing that could have possibly made the whole ordeal worse was if Jacob himself had been watching you.
When the early dregs of dawn light peeked through the clouds, you were already up and busy securing your gear pack for the day. Much as you didn’t like to leave any of your supplies behind, it was difficult to traipse up and down the hazardous mountain terrain – especially on your bum leg. You had just strapped the pack to your back and headed out the door when your radio jumped to life at your hip.
You paused with a slight frown but continued into the tree cover; more cover meant less of a chance that you’d be found, though you reminded yourself that that logic was practically useless when it came to Jacob’s elite.
“You know, Deputy, you’d make things far easier on yourself if you just accepted the circumstances instead of constantly fighting what you can’t control.” The words rolled in, slow and smooth like honey, and a tingle ran straight up your spine.
Jacob.
It wasn’t like him to radio you directly; he far preferred addressing the general public with his messages toward you as a show of strength. Not that he needed to remind the entire region of what they already knew; you had begun to suspect he just enjoyed it.
“Who said things aren’t easy for me?” You tried to maintain a steady tone but even now, the sting from your leg bleed into the words and you grimaced at the failed show of strength. You sighed after his lack of response and huffed, “Okay, who said I even liked for things to be easy on me?”
A low rumble came over the airwaves and you had to shake your radio to make sure it wasn’t a malfunction from the equipment and was, in fact, actually Jacob Seed chuckling at you. “You’ve made that more than clear with your attitude during training. Anyone else I would have conditioned into submission long before now, but even I have to admit: it seems to be working for you.”
The voice in your head practically purring ‘yes’, ‘good’, and ‘perfect’ as you put a bullet through one man’s skull and snapped the neck of another with simply your bare hands came to mind. He had complimented you then, and he was reminded you of that now.
Your eyes narrowed as you paused and leaned on a nearby tree for support. It seemed you were safe from the hunters for now; it wasn’t his style to distract you while they encircled. He was being oddly nice, you realized, and the thought was extremely unnerving.
What was he up to?
“You know your purpose. You know the path you need to be on. Don’t let fear keep you from the path you were destined to walk.”
His words were a startling reminder for you to check your surroundings. Could he possibly have known of your recent paranoia seeping into your very bones deeper than the hunter’s arrow had?
The radio was clutched in your white-knuckled grip. You were waiting, you realized, wanting him to finish his message. It’d only taken one round of his conditioning for you to be attuned to his voice, it seemed. The thought made you want to chuck the device as far as your arm would allow you to as you walked in the opposite direction, but his next line stopped you in your tracks, even as you turned.
“You’re good at what you do and with my help, you could be great. It’s not too late for you to accept this. For you to accept me.”
You turned the radio over in your hand, not entirely convinced that it wasn’t another illusion brought on by exposure to the bliss. The personal call? The sudden and constant stream of compliments? ‘Accept me’? Was he…
…was Jacob fucking Seed flirting with you?
The thought was enough for you to turn and scan the underlying brush for the clearest path back to your cabin. The hair on the back of your neck stood at attention and you could practically feel eyes on your back now that you weren’t paying attention to the smoothness of his voice.
Great. Maybe he really wasn’t above distracting you so that his hunters could get a jump on you.
You unstrapped your hunting rifle from your pack but as you raised the weapon, the tree you had been leaning on suddenly splintered into a thousand pieces. When the dust finally settled, you spared it enough of a glance to see the large-caliber sized hole through the trunk mere inches from where your head had been.
It definitely wasn’t the hunters after you, then. They stuck strictly with their bows, something you usually could appreciate, but having the rifle to clutch in your fingers made you feel a little safer even if it was a futile thought at best.
“The path of the Chosen is not offered lightly, Deputy. Consider my offer.”
As your radio finally fell silent, you were rooted to your spot. If he had wanted to put a bullet through your head, he would have by now, you reasoned. What was this, then? Another sign of strength? A sign that yes, he was definitely watching you?
Now that was a wildly unnerving thought. You hiked your backpack further up your back and trekked back to your house as quickly as you could, your skin practically itching for the cover of walls at your back and the safety of a roof above your head.
“Oh, and by the way, Deputy?”
You started as your radio crackled to life one last time.
Jacob chuckled darkly. “You look pretty hot in plaid.”
Through narrowed eyes, you glanced down at your plain shirt in confusion. There was nothing plaid about your cotton t-shirt and plaid pants certainly weren’t back in style, even in mountain land Hope County. You made it two steps from your quaint cabin before your body practically seized up.
The past few days hadn’t been kind to your wardrobe and it had been with much chagrin that you had decided to dive into the previous’ owner’s stash of clothes this morning. Like most cabins in this area, it had been owned by either solitary hunter, or a family man wanting a man cave to stash away from it all, so the clothing options you’d had were minimal.
Hence why you were wearing a pair of plaid boxers under your jeans.
Your face was already heating up with an ungodly flush and you raced into the cabin, slamming the door behind you.
Jacob fucking Seed, you mentally cursed. He had been watching you, then. And was most definitely flirting with you.