Fox

Better Run

Cade knew he was running out of time. The sky was darkening by the minute and he was still a couple of miles away from home. He willed his leaden legs to keep moving, his burning throat gasping for air. His body was screaming at him to stop, but that wasn't an option. At first, he'd been running on pure adrenaline, but now he had nothing more to give. It'd been a lean few months, and his reserves were running dry. He was slowing down, and the blood pounding behind his eyes was making him dizzy. He shook his head to clear his vision, droplets of sweat flicking off his hair. Gritting his teeth, he pressed on, his bare feet slapping on the cracked tarmac. Thankfully, he'd avoided any broken glass or rusty metal this time, but he didn't have time to slow down and be cautious. Every moment was precious.

'Help me, Lord,' he prayed, silently.

As the minutes slipped by, his run became a stumbling jog past the tumbledown shacks that were clustered tightly together. People stared out at him, concern evident on their faces.

'Hurry!' Someone yelled, 'the siren'll be going off soon!'

The note of panic in his voice sent a jolt of fear through Cade's aching body. What if he really didn't make it this time? Maybe the man who had shouted would help him. A desperate thought, but it was all he needed for his legs to suddenly give up. He almost collapsed as he stopped, but took a deep breath and turned in the direction of the man's house.

A collection of faces peered at him through a torn net curtain, and he spotted the man who had called out. His face didn't look concerned anymore, instead he looked angry as Cade approached.

'What are you doing?' He snarled, 'I know you're not from this zone.'

'Please,' was all Cade could gasp. He knew he'd never make it now, and if someone didn't help him, he was as good as dead.

'Get away,' the man replied, producing a large stick and brandishing it at Cade. 'I've got a family to think about. You're not getting in here.'

Cade heard footsteps behind him, and whipped around to see that he was surrounded by a group of men, all holding various weapons- bats, rope, stones. He was almost too tired to be afraid. If they didn't kill him, the soldiers would, and it seemed like sweet release right now.

'Keep moving,' growled a huge bald man. 'We can't help you.' He looked somehow familiar, but Cade couldn't quite place him.

Cade inhaled deeply, his lungs gladly accepting the oxygen. He knew asking was a long shot. If he was found out of zone, it wouldn't only be him that got punished. The soldiers had an uncanny knack of doing random searches where a household might be sheltering someone who hadn't managed to make it back to their allocated plot before curfew, and there plenty of sneaks around who wouldn't hesitate to hand him in in exchange for an extra food coupon or two.

'Isn't there anywhere I could go?' He pleaded. 'Even in a shed or something?'

The men didn't reply, but on a silent cue, they moved in closer, threateningly looming over Cade.

'Please-I'll die out there!' He protested, his voice cracking with fear.

'Not our problem,' answered the bald man, brandishing the piece of pipe he held.

In a flash of deja vu, Cade suddenly realised exactly who the man was. Time was running out. He had to convince them to let him stay.

'Pastor Mark!'

The man's eyes widened in recognition, and he lowered his pipe.

Cade felt relief flooding through him. Surely his former pastor wouldn't turn him away. But the the pastor's face hardened again.

'I don't know who that is, or who you are, but this is your last chance to get out of our zone.'

He stepped towards Cade again, the men following and forming a tight ring, murmuring to one another.

Panic rose in Cade's chest. How could the man lie like that?

'Pastor, you're a man of God. You can't do this, please. It's Cade Beckett, I know you remember me,' a shove in his back made him alnost trip. The men were pushing him towards the area gate, and he was powerless to resist. He craned his neck, trying to spot the bald man he'd known since his birth.

'Shut it, kid,' the familiar voice snapped. 'You're crazy.'

'Pastor! Pastor, please! My Dad, Wade, you gotta remember him! He helped you out, please, I'm gonna die if you don't let me stay-'

Suddenly, the wailing of the siren pierced the air, and they all paused for a second before the men turned, rushing back to their huts, leaving Cade standing alone next to the gate.

Anger at the betrayal and terror at his fate course through him. As the pastor slammed his own door shut, Cade screamed a string of the worst curses he could think of. That man, a supposed family friend and man of God, had just abandoned him to die.

Pastor Mark appeared at a window, a small victorious smirk playing on his lips. Cade had never felt such violent hatred before.

'Better run, kid. Let's hope you still live up to your old nickname.'

The siren blared again, and Cade had no choice. He began to run.

A/N

Picture at the top is Cade. Isn't he cute? :)