Surviving

Which way did I run? Um, away? I wasn't really focused on a direction right then. I only knew I had to get away.
I could've gone home, that's true. I could've gone home and headed straight up to my room and hid under my bed like a useless child. But then one of two things could've happened. The monster would have broken in and killed me. Or my father would've come home and killed me, for not following his lessons.
Get away. That was the first thing he taught me. To run. Not fight. In most situations of fight or flight, he and I would have both chosen the same option: flight.
Run away first then wait study your opponent, and take him down when and only when you have a high chance of winning. If not, keep running. Just run.
So that's what I did. I ran. Into the wilderness that surrounded our small Canadian town.
Deep into the woods. Where our emergency supplies were stocked. I climbed into the hollow tree and pulled open the trap door into an underground bunker. Slipping into the storage area cleanly.
My spine tingled. I could sense the danger in my bones. A monster. It was coming for me.
I moved quickly. Filling an old army kit bag with supplies, and grabbing my choice weapons from the wall, slinging the heavy sniper rifle over my back, and grabbing the special bullets my dad made for it.
Of course, the rifle was my best weapons, it had its weaknesses. For one, it was heavy, not really something for quick movement. Two, it's a distance weapon that requires specific needs to be used.
I'd need something else to wield when I couldn't use my rifle. I grabbed a short sword. Not that much reach as a regular sword, but more than a dagger. Perfect for me. I strapped this to my waist and pulled my rifle into my arms as I slung my bag over my shoulder.
It was time to go. I climbed out of the bunker and back into my hollow tree, slowly peering out of peep holes before I hoisted myself out and looked around.
To use my rifle I needed high ground with a clear view of my surroundings. I wasn't that far out of the town yet, so there was actually an old watch tower only a mile away build back when there was a job that literally had you watching for forest fires from a cobblestone tower.
I hiked my way over to it, knocked the door down and set up my rifle. Then, I waited.

Notes