Cat & Mouse
The Watcher’s eyes panned across the panes of glass, following the figure, measuring the movements. From one to the next, gliding in a smooth motion, tracking every step, the rhythm steady enough to draw the envy of a metronome.
The time was nearing, and the Watcher could feel it. The senses were heightened, the focus narrowed, and the breeze tingling the skin, making the hairs stand on end.
The breathing – steady.
Calm.
The light was low, but it was as low as it was going to get. The crimson backdrop raged a deep burn, painting some things a flattering colour, while distorting others. An uneven spread of luminosity, unfairly distributed to all things below, as with all things. Such was life.
Still surveying, eyes scanning from one window to the next, they stopped upon a pane – a pane which was different. Framing a cherry blossom tree at its centre, leaves dancing around and filling the edges, it was picturesque and almost perfect; perfect except for one thing – the figure wasn’t in it. The pane was empty, and when the Watcher’s eyes tracked back to the previous section, that too, was now void of any silhouette.
The eyes widened as quickly as the heart quickened and began to jump from one section to the next, no longer in the smooth, controlled, rhythmic flow that was in place moments ago. The eyes now darted around in untrained fashion, the heart-rate in a mess, thoughts of worst-case scenarios flashed into the Watcher’s mind.
Calm gave way to panic.
A long time had passed since last experiencing this sensation – as far back as the early days of training. A period of trial and error, learning from mistakes, and stamping out those little lapses of concentration. A time when refining instant assessments and making decisions as near-perfect as possible were a must. But... there were always external, uncontrollable variables that could creep in at any point. But not at this point, not now. It had barely begun, yet the figure had suddenly back-tracked. Could it be random? Maybe. Could they know something? No, impossible. The Watcher banished the paranoia instantly, before it reinforced the panic. Procedure had to be remembered; remember RAM: regain control, assess, move forward.
Outside, and into the forest.
Stepping between the trees, weaving and swaying in and out, as the gaps between them narrowed. The sun flashed and flickered through when it could, a strobe of light filtering its way through the cracks. The smell of pine wafted up from below, accentuated by the moisture rising from the damp ground. On any other day it would have been a combination worth sitting and enjoying.
But not today.
As the trees parted, the figure flashed back into view, standing still, looking out through a small clearing, just enjoying the view before moving on again, strolling along the path. It had been random after all – a last minute change of mind to walk through the woods. The Watcher slowed back to a walking pace, matching that of the figure in front. Cat and mouse resumed, with the figure none the wiser.
It rarely ever was.
They continued on through the woodland at a leisurely tempo. Just two walkers, getting some exercise and fresh air. That’s how it would appear to most. However, one of the walkers knew something different from the other – they knew where this walk was going, and more importantly, how it would end.
With the figure back in sight, and false alarm over, it was back to business. Composure regained; it was time.
This had to happen, and happen now.
She couldn’t let her target escape.
