My mind reacts before my body does. I realize that we have to get out of the house. From my closet, I grab a small backpack and instruct Rose to get dressed. I throw on my hunting clothes and boots. I sling two quivers, each with a dozen arrows, over my shoulder, and grab my bow. The sack of coins, a knife, my dad's tie, Rose's handkerchief and a canteen of water are thrown into the backpack. Someone pounds on the door. I open it to find Dillon, also carrying a small pack, with a small cut on his cheek--probably from debris. Behind him, I catch a glimpse of a bomb destroying his house.
“We have to—” Dillon starts to shout.
“Get out of here!” I finish, screaming. Rose comes up from behind me with another canteen. The three of us find Marcus and Olivia rushing out of their house.
“Where do we go?” Olivia yells. Without words, we all know we're thinking the same thing. We bolt into the forest. I look back just in time to see my house become a pile of rubble. This is no time to cry, though.
We run for a long time, wanting to put as much distance between us and the village. Soon, we slow to a walk. Maybe after half an hour, we get overwhelmed with fatigue. We find a group of trees and settle down under them.
“You guys get some sleep,” Dillon says. “I'll keep watch.”
“You can't watch alone,” I insist, “I'll watch too.” Olivia, Rose, and Marcus lie down on the grass and are soon asleep.
Was it possible that earlier tonight I was dancing with the guy sitting next to me? Now I'm running for my life. I was tired, but my mind was racing. I had finally pieced everything together. The scene so similar to the one six years ago. The fact that only our houses were bombed. The same gang who killed our parents was now after us. I suppose I started shivering, because Dillon put his arm around me. It was probably around three in the morning, and the air was cold. Marcus started to stir and later sits up.
“One of you, get some sleep,” he whispers. "I'll take over.”
“You can sleep,” Dillon tells me. "I'll be fine." I know arguing would be useless and I'm too tired anyway. I fall asleep with only one thought burned in my mind: They're back. And they're after us.
When I wake up, Marcus is watching with Olivia and it's about six. Rose and Dillon wake up too.
“We'd better keep moving,” Marcus says. Dillon and I walk with loaded bows and Marcus with a spear. Rose and Olivia walk unarmed between us. Dillon pins two rabbits and we stop to eat them. It is risky to start a fire, but there's no way to eat the meat raw, and we're all hungry.
Soon, we're moving again, careful to fully put out the fire beforehand. None of us know where we're going. We're just moving away from the village, deeper into the woods--deeper than any of us had ever gone before. I couldn't help but think about Hattie, Ash, Sal, and the other people. Their lives were in danger last night and I couldn't help but feel guilty.
An arrow chops the air behind me and sticks in a tree.
“Guys,” I croak. Everyone is suddenly alert.
“You missed!” I hear a man scold behind us. Three men are darting toward us. Running would be futile. We'd run, they'd chase us. No. We have to fight.
“Go hide!” I scream at Rose and Olivia. But while I had my head turned, one of the men pinned me to the ground. I couldn't move my hands, or any part of my body for that matter. The man whipped a knife out from his belt. I tried to scream, but I couldn't find my voice. He wore and evil smirk as he was about to cut me. Kill me.
“Skye!” Dillon shouts distress apparent in his voice. My vision is blurred, but I can faintly see him load his bow. Soon enough, the man's grip loosens as he pulls an arrow from his side. Dillon then shoots him in his chest. He collapses on the ground, bleeding profusely. Dead. But not before he could cut me in my left arm. Marcus is now fighting with another man to my left. Losing. I shoot an arrow at the man's head. I would never kill someone, but when Marcus was being threatened, I mustered up the will. Soon, the second man lies on the dead on the grass as well. The last man starts charging at us with a sword from about ten feet. Marcus thrusts his spear and it skewers him right through the heart.
Rose and Olivia climb down from a tree.
“Are you okay?” Dillon asks. Everyone rushes toward me, as I'm the only one who seems to be injured.
“Yeah,” I say halfheartedly. My arm throbs with pain and I'm filled with fear.
We walk until it starts to get dark. We reside under a group of pine trees. The air turns cold, so we start a fire about ten feet from the trees. Olivia nurses my wound. She shakes her head.
“Looks pretty deep,” she observes. Feels pretty deep, I think. She pulls some bandages out from her backpack. I wince as she cleans the cut with some water. Dillon has a sorrowful look in his eyes, which, just last night, were shimmering. She wraps a bandage around my arm.
Olivia and Rose offer to watch first, as Marcus, Dillon, and I had fought today.
“But neither of you can really defend yourselves,” Dillon points out.
“Then teach us,” Rose insists.
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