Somewhen in Time
	The gnarled wagon stood empty below a vast mass of trees and mist-shrouded undergrowth. One broken wagon wheel lay rotting into the sodden ground. As uncounted time passed the contents of the wagon, namely a handful of old garments and cloth and some grain, had spilled from the lopsided tray of the cart to be devoured by the deathly atmosphere on the remote, gravel road. A twisted skelatal hand lay reaching imploringly for the distant sky, dead, mould eating at the remains of tortured flesh. A grey-green vine twisted its way along the bony arm and across the disgusting entanglement of stale white bones. The gutted remains of another body lay amongst the wagons’ seat, sickeningly deformed by the acidic tasted of the forest.
	Far off in the distance, barely noticeable against the unbearable silence came a sound not unlike the churning waves that pound against the scarborus headlands on a distant shoreline. Gradually the sound intensified, grew louder and more distinct- a rushing throb overlayn by an uneven churn…
	Two white lights burst forth from the mat of fog, great beams of light extending into the gloom, eminating from the grey-green body of the roaring vehicle. It sped on, oblivious to its surroundings, the two telltale tracks in the soft ground gradually began to fill with murky water. Suddenly there were yells of rage, and the beat of horses hooves across the splattering slush, moss and mud thrown high into the air. Then in was gone, and the sound again was crushed by the blanket of heavy, pungent fog. The gnarled wagon slowly sank into the quagmire.

	There it was! The break from this time and place. The door to...
	Hooves! The sound of a horse galloping through the slime infested swamps. This was his only chance. The man drove insanely towards a black door-like ‘hole’ in the fog and... vanished.
	
	High above the dank blanket of swirling mists, the deciphering eye of a giant hawk cought the movement of light beams through the fog below. As its instinct told, it obeyed and fell into an incredible plummet down into the unseen mists below, screaming its call of the kill, chasing the huge object. It was too late to pull out of the deadly fall and the screeching bird disapeared into the black door.

	“Dead.” The statement told all. It had origionated from a sweaty being seated on the drivers’ side of an old army jeep. A small piece of dry mud fell from the rear of the silent vehicle. In the distance, a horses’ whinney, as if the poor beast was in great pain. High above, the circling movements of a great bird, its scresm heard through the silence.
	“Ah!” The man instantly knew his plan, and looking around in the endlessly shifting sands, cried out once and searched for his place to hide.
	Amongst the shifting sands, the broken red rock, the blue-yellow sky and dry air, there rode a woman, weary atop a roan horse. Her eyes, though tired, were alert, searching, hunting, for something she knew was there but couldn’t find. She wore a red satin-like vest and long, skin-tight leathery black pants, high boots on eact foot and at her muscled hip, a holster for a single-hand-held crossbow.
	The woman halted the huge horse and sat mounted. Time passed. In the silent distance she thought she heard a clang. Metal on metal. She loosened the buckle on her holster and reached with a skelatal hand for the crossbow. Three of her four scrawny fingers cracked in staccato succession. Slowly, she pulled on a black fingerless leather glove which creaked drily over her hand, then rode simply over the dune towards the sound
	
	A woman! The tracker was a woman! And after all this time, he had thought that the strange follower in its evil black suit had been a man. Those muscles! That ‘thing’ was a woman! 
	From his hiding place he watched the woman ride in on her great roan horse, its hooves punching the sand, a steady pace across the yellow-orangeness of the austere desert. The heavily sweating man closed his eyes for a moment, a pause between breaths- an image of his past between moments...
	Ah yes, it had been a good life, he reminisced. Ah, yes, the past. Or was it the future? Who could tell these days. In the old days, he had been a scientist, a PhD in physics to be exact. The old days had treated him well, serving him with a great catch- he had made his break after the discovery of-
	Wham! A little steel dart implanted itself deep into the gound beside him. He lay silenly underneath the jeep, the cool shadow projecting a chilling thrill down his wet back. The the boot came down in front of his head, a black army boot, hot and crust from the dry air. The wooden butt of a rifle came down beside it. His plan had to work...
	“Come out, come out, wherever you are.”  The voice was gutteral, the two boots paced up and down as if to mask the fact that the owner of such disgusting footwear knew his exact position. They stopped directly in front of him. An arm, clad in a dry leather glove appeared under the bumper bar, a small piece of mud dropped to the ground to lie still in the soft sand. A metallic object whizzed past, a small dart through the air to implant  The had held a small crossbow. His chance was now...
	Gone! He was there! She had heard the dart hit! And he was gone. Ah, for how long had she been waiting for this moment, and how far had she chased this madman! Only to fing him gone once again. She stood up and looked back across the desert, the endless seas of sand and rock, the harsh blue of the clashing sky. Oh how much longer will she have to chase him, how much longer will she have to-
	The shot hit her in the arm, her body twisted under the impact. Red life spurted out across the shifting dirt, a spray of blood on the hungry ground. The woman cried out as would the high circling hawk and fell heavily onto the ground, her evil eyes closed. 
	The man took his chance, and looted the weapons from the dying woman, took and drank her water and operated his escape. He vanished into the door, the smell of near death behind him. A chill echo of a laugh echoed thoughout the stillness even as the giant bird landed.
The chase
	The whirring feeling ceased. He had made it. He stumbled blindly for a moment, tripping on the unseen footings that spread themselves in from of him.