The Rain (Part III of the Runner Series)

Chapter 1

A pair of hands appear above me, long fingers wrapping themselves securely around my wrists and swinging me higher into the blue. I twist mid-air, training my eyes on the scorched, far-reaching branches of the tree and readying myself for impact. The hands holding me give a single, mighty heave and then, I am in the tree. I sit perched high above the earth while the tightly-packed Mechs continually spill over the cliff.

Luca hands over my bow, shooting me a small grin as he smoothly notches his own weapon and fires into the crowd. I follow suit, sighting along the length of my arrow.

A few scattered Mechs have managed to keep their footing near the edge of the chasm but Luca and I finish them off in quick succession. The enemy falls handily, disappearing into low puffs of dirt. I dispatch my final target and sit back, waiting for Luca to finish his work and allowing my muscles to slowly untense.

The string of Luca's bow releases with a tight reverberation. He remains completely still for several seconds after, his sharp eyes fixed on the ground below while he searches for any last traces of movement. It isn't until he lowers his weapon and slumps his shoulders that I finally bring down my guard, at last certain that the danger has passed.

"Good catch." I say, making a show of rubbing my wrists where he gripped me. "I'm glad that I wasn't coming in too fast for you."

"Impossible." He unslings his quiver and leans back against the trunk of the tree. "I will always be faster."

"You're full of it." I roll my eyes.

I swing my legs around the branch and sit forward over my knees. Luca remains silent while we wait for my lingering adrenaline to wear off and my breaths to slow. It has been nearly six months since the fall of Babel's wall and my last hallucination, the visions kept at bay so long as I can steady myself after a high-stress situation. The hot desert breeze and Luca's own, calm presence work their magic and gradually, I feel my old sense of ease returning.

My eyes flutter open as I release my final shaky breath, wiping my sweaty palms on my thighs. "When is your brother expecting us back?"

Luca glances up to the sky, a slight frown pulling at his lips while he concentrates on the sun's position. "Within an hour. We are breaking camp at sundown."

"Then I suppose we had better keep moving." I sigh, lifting my hair to cool the back of my neck.

My friend is slow to reply, never one to be rushed. "We have time. Wait until you are rested, your run was long."

"Thanks." I twist my hair into a knot over my shoulder and tie it securely.

"I think we have proven the effectiveness of this new battle strategy." Luca continues conversationally. "And barely any arrows gone to waste."

I force a small laugh, but my mind is elsewhere. Regardless of how many creative ways we find to defeat the Mechs, their numbers never seem to dwindle. They are being churned out as quickly as we can strike them down and we are still no closer to finding the Madam. An ugly feeling gnaws at the pit of my stomach and I have to turn away from the sight of prone figures littering the ground.

"I told you that this would not get easier." Luca's talent for speaking my thoughts aloud never fails to unsettle me. "Do you ever wish to give it up?"

"You know what it will take for me to stop." I say, darkly. "When she's dead and not a moment sooner."

He doesn't reply. We sit together for several minutes, watching as the sun dips lower into the gorge. Finally, I straighten my spine and prepare to swing down from my perch. We leap nimbly from branch to branch, our hands and feet effortlessly gripping the rough bark until we land in crouched positions on the ground, as silent as the breeze.