waters of our secret hideaway. They give me strength. I have to fight, I have to live. The blood’s steady but my body’s strong and I keep driving myself forward. Twenty feet until the trees. Rocks and dirt fly around my face. Fifteen feet, ten feet, five feet until safety. I run and limp and scream but finally I’m there. The animal trail’s well worn. I use the path to my advantage. I need to put distance between the foreigners and me but I also need to stop the bleeding. My fingers tare at the sleeve of my shirt as I sprint down the trail. I fist the fabric in my shaking hand, ripping it off. I need more time but I can already hear more foreigners running after me. I stop to tie the sleeve around my thigh. I’ll die if I lose too much blood. I continue weaving down the path with my shirt secured around my throbbing leg. My eyes catch sight of a flattened grass bed and I leap from the trail onto the trampled blades. I take the largest leaps my injured leg can manage, carrying myself off the trail. I hear heavy steps of at least two foreigners in close pursuit. My mind races in search of my next move. I can’t hide. I’m bleeding out slowly and won’t last a night in my condition. They have guns and I’m wounded. I need to get to water and it hits me that Dr. Glidden knew I’d make it outside and need direction . He’d said something about a black rock by a river. My stomach jolts as bile rises to my mouth. I replay the last image of him crumbling to the floor with blood running from his head. I can’t think of that now. Weakness, even if momentary could cost me my life. Years of skills training tells me I need to stay close to the animal path, it’s my best hope at finding water. I head back toward the trail, following its winding course downhill. The pain in my leg is numbing and the world around me is framed in a hazy light. The blood loss is affecting my mind and I’m near fainting. I can’t stop moving, instead I bare down on my stomach attempting to raise my blood pressure. I need to keep the blood flowing to my brain, the hazy frame maintains but at least it’s stopped inching its way inward. The trees and grass become greener the farther I run and I know water must be near. I brace myself on the trunks of the massive trees and stumble straight over the small saplings. I’ve become sloppy in my desperation for the black rock. The foreigners are on my heels. I hear them snapping trees as their steps close-in. I draw upon the last of my strength to push forward. The world hazes and then I hit the cold water. The wetness constricts my vessels and shoots blood to my fading brain. For a moment I have clarity. I frantically search for the rock. One hundred feet ahead I spot the gigantic black boulder that sits completely alien to this landscape. I crash through the water, crossing the embankment just as the first foreigner breaks the tree line. He doesn’t hesitate as he shoulders his gun and opens fire. Bullets splash water to the shoreline wetting my arms as I sprint. The bullets hit closer and closer as I run. One grazes my shoulder just as I reach the backside of the massive rock. Tucked beneath its ledge is my hope, a bow with two arrows. “Over there!” The foreigner shouts to the other. Immediate waves of gunfire rain down, it’s now or never. I grab the bow and swiftly fasten the first arrow. Gunfire’s closing in from the right much faster than the foreigner on my left. I roll to the right and aim. My arrow flies through the air, striking the foreigner straight in the chest. It’s only a fraction of a second but in that moment I see the life leave his eyes. I realize the gravity of what I’ve done. I just killed a man. I killed someone’s son, maybe some-one’s father. The gunfire to my left closes in and snaps me back to reality. I string the second arrow. I have a clear shot but I can’t take it. I won’t take another life even if it means dying. Suddenly a veil