Page 73 of The Souls Harvest
For a moment, I study the trio’s interaction: Galen smirking at Jyn pinching his cheek, Tabitha’s face softening while looking at the two.
“How far do you reckon?” I ask, pointing at some lights that areflashing the same word repeatedly to break their uncomfortable bubble of familiarity.
“It’s not the distance that worries me,” Tabitha breaks her stare and presses her right index finger on her lips, tapping the left one to her ear as if inviting us to listen. “The right question is: can we run fast enough?”
We’ve all experienced, at least once, that sticky, muggy feeling that precedes a downpour. Uncomfortable, heavy. Endless—until the rain comes, bringing fresh air and freedom.
As we all fall silent, the clammy layers of an invisible threat weigh on my mind, fogging my senses. Until Jyn loops one arm around Galen’s, and his boot steps on a skinny branch that cries like a massive, wounded beast.
We freeze.
Four pairs of eyes widen in unison, and we hold our breath as best as we can. Galen moans in pain and presses his face against Jyn’s shoulder to muffle the sound.
The trees around us start shivering with the echo of heavy marching steps, attacking the ground with such violence I feel sorry for whatever may end up under them.
Rain finally comes in the shape of Tabitha’s voice. “Shit, they’ve found us quicker than I thought. Fuck this! Let’s make it interesting and guide them closer to our barriers. Run to the lights and do not die.”
Jyn bows his head before scooping Galen onto his shoulder, ignoring his cry of pain and complaint. “Sorry, mate. We’ll go fasterthis way.”
Sprinting like an athlete, with an agility nobody could muster, while carrying the weight of another person, Jyn starts running towards the lights, looking way stronger than the man I saw pushing the fruit trolley back in Libera.
“July, what are you doing? Go!” Tabitha pushes me so hard I stumble. But eventually, my feet start moving when a bullet whistles past inches from us, burning a straight red line in the air.
It travels so fast and far, I can barely hear the explosion flaying the bark of an innocent tree. But it’s enough to make me run faster than ever before. I’ve dodged enough bullets for one night; I don’t mean to chance my luck further.
Steps rush behind me, desperate to live and see another day. Tabitha is not far. I can hear her heavy breath and random cursing against whoever is shooting at us.
“Nasty offspring of a rotten mother!”
But there are other steps, following close behind. Voices ordering us to stop and yield, hissing rounds of firearms destroying a good amount of vegetation and - by the sound of it - some of the local fauna.
The lights in front of us are the only thing I want to focus on. And the oddly shaped silhouette of Jyn, who looks like a creature with two heads and a double pair of limbs.
“You’re flagging again…” Tabitha pants next to me.
“I’m running…” I sound like I’m about to throw up one of my lungs.
“Your thoughts are holding you back. Tell your brain to stop!” Tabitha doesn’t wait for my answer and sprints in front of me.
She’s right. Thinking about what could happen if they get to us and take us prisoners, or worse, won’t help any of us. Besides, I’m the one who’s now furthest behind and in danger.
“Fuck this!” I echo Tabitha. Her sturdy shape quickly melts into the dark wall of trees and undefined shadows. I don’t know what I’m running away from, and I have no clue where I am heading, so I command my feet to lift from the ground as if on fire.
“Keep shooting…”
“They’re not far!”
“Come on, you pathetic, useless beings. Take them down…”
The voices around me are angry and coming from every direction. The forest shakes, screams, and complains under the rain of bullets. I want to cry with it and call for Tabitha, Galen…
The ground under my feet turns from soft and unstable to hard and paved. My first step on solid, flat stones is heavy and aggressive. My right ankle twists slightly, but I save it with an awkward hop before landing on my knees and hands.
“This is a path,” I whisper, touching the trail of irregular stones.
I’m not sure how and when I made it out of the forest. But mostly, I’m scared to lift my head and look up at the person standing so close to me that I can smell the leather of their black combat boots and—sugar and lemon?
“Tabs? Are you sure this is her? She looks like a baby bird that’s fallen from its nest.” A young voice asks as the boots move a steptowards me. She has an inflexion I can’t pinpoint but shares Tabitha’s imperative yet friendly tone.
