Diary Entry 4

Date: Not worth guessing
Time: Late Night
Location: Farther East, but still in the middle of nowhere

The sun set a long while ago, but I can still see a glow that just barely makes it through the trees. This frightens me. Somehow I don't think that the vial juice will save me from being burned alive. The wind has picked up, and it's hot and smelly. Animals run by me, near enough to touch, all frantic to get away from the approaching flames.
I ran too, tried to anyway. But I'm not a deer, or a gazelle. I don't have wings, and I'm most certainly not fire-proof. The situation doesn't look good.
Thirst and exhastion pull at me, but it doesn't dull my senses. I notice that the path I have been following is now wider, well-worn. I know this means that there is some kind of destination ahead that may not end in turning to a french-fry.
There is something else ahead. . .like the croon of a dying cat. I pause to listen.

Sirens

My heart freezes, and I feel the panicky urge to hide. Sirens are nothing good. They frighten me on a deep, unreasonable level. Even the threat of the fire could not push me towards whatever was causing that awful sound. So I looked around desperately for something to put myself in. A log, a hole, a hollow tree, anything.

Loud crashing ahead. I almost dropped my dirty notebook. Nothing good could come of this. I start running away from the noises.

There's shouting behind me. Dear God, they're chasing me!

I get this horrible feeling that this is going to be the last of so very few entries. In my own blind panic, a memory surfaces. My name. It is the last thing I can jot down before putting all of my energy into escape.

Jaz