Instability

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"Hey! Get back 'ere!"

Danny shuffles quickly to his feet and takes off into the woods. I bolt after him at the speed of light, terrified out of my mind. We zigzag through the forest as if our feet were on fire, desperate to get the hell out of the vicinity of the guard.

Adrenaline pulses through my body as we sprint through the woods. A tree root trips me, but no guards shoot me when I fall. It's a silent blessing, a stroke of dumb luck.

I scan the land for any signs of movement, but no one storms through the forest. I get up hastily and wipe my knees off.

"Ashley," Danny calls in the distance.

I look up from my knees and, for some unknown reason, notice Danny's strong persona more than I normally do. Toned muscles paired with his light hair increase his attractiveness.

Why the heck am I analyzing Danny?

"Coming," I say, forcing my mind to concentrate on the real issues: the guards.

We continue to move away from town until we're both convinced the guards won't pursue us anymore. We hike uphill over mossy rocks to a spot near the base of a sloping mountain. With a final sweeping look of the forest, I sit down on a patch of grass and take off my backpack (which is considerably lighter compared to when I first received it). I also slide my bow off my shoulder and hug it close to my knees. Danny keeps his pack on but pulls out his gun instead.

Danny and I don't say anything for a while, too preoccupied with listening and looking for Guards. My heart hammers in my chest and ears, but I listen closely for noise. Birds chirp continuously, but no branches break or pound on the ground. I turn my head every now and again, alert as ever.

"I think we're safe," Danny says.

"I think so, too," I reply, standing up to listen. I glance at the grass, engaged in concentration. "We would have heard the guards a while ago if they were following us."

I sit back on the ground, a bit closer to Danny than I was originally. I fish an arrow out of my sheath and load it in my bow. After a moment more of listening and watching, I'm positive the guards decided to give up. The feeling, however, doesn't soothe my knotted-up stomach.

"Danny, something just occurred to me," I say.

Danny gives me a puzzled look. "What? What happened?"

"When are those guards going to wake up? The three guys we shot?"

"What do you mean--" Danny says. A light bulb pops on above his head, and his eyes widen. "We better move."

"Let's go," I say, grabbing my backpack. This time, I take the lead. We hike through the rest of the massive rocks, passing by more pine trees.

"Wait," Danny says. "We've got to move south." He pulls out his compass and leads us down a different path than the one I would have taken. I jog after Danny as we follow a river using the light coverage of the trees. After an extensive amount of jogging and panting, my pace becomes a walk due to a painful side stitch.

Damn you, side stitches.

I begin to keel over. Danny slows down a bit, too, but he doesn't look back. Instead, he scales the mountains around us. I think he decides to cross the steepest one that isn't snow-capped.

Just as I glance up from my awkward, bent position, I hear the soft pound of feet behind me. I quickly draw my bow, and my pointed arrow aims at a person. Panicked, I release my arrow, narrowly missing Taylor's heart and hitting inches away from the dead-middle of her chest.