Gunfire, explosions, and screaming is pushed out of my mind. Every conscious thought must be spent on running. Running, dodging, weaving, leaping, whatever it takes to escape the compound and escape the fire. Officer Peel is waiting at the treeline motioning for us to hurry, as if we had to be told twice. Abby is racing to the left of me, a little further ahead. I'm doing my best to sprint while pulling my mom along by the hand. For someone that looked so weakened and defeated before, she's keeping up surprisingly well, especially with the lack of footwear. Her face is set with a level of determination that lifts my spirits.
Inches away from the first tree I'm yanked backwards onto my rear. My death grip on my mother's hand kept me from continuing forward when she tripped behind me. I try to quickly yank her back up but she's not complying and falls back face first into the dirt. I flip her onto her back to check if she hit her head when she tripped and was knocked unconscious. Her eyes have switched from unwavering resilience to empty indifference. Her eyes are open but they're not looking at me. They're not looking at anything. My ears are deafened by somebody's scream as my eyes look down at a large hole in the front of the jacket. Unzipping the jacket, my breath catches as my eyes lay upon dark red spread spreading across my mother's torso.
Before I can react I'm yanked from my knees back to my feet. I don't even remember falling to my knees. Officer Peel is trying to pull me into the forest. Pull me away from my mother. Keep me from saving her. I push him away so I can stop the bleeding. She's losing too much blood! Before I'm able to apply pressure to the hole in my mother's chest I'm yanked away again. My fist swings around and smacks against Peel's jaw. He pulls an arm up and blocks my second punch. I wind back for another go but before I can unleash my rage he connects against my side with a stun gun. The rage burning through my body isn't enough to resist the currents of electricity as Peel continues to hold the stun gun to my body until I'm completely on the ground and unable to move. Utterly helpless. Can't help my myself, can't help my mother. I should never have trusted Peel.
Every bounding step of Chung Peel's long legs sends a jolt through my body as I lay draped over his broad shoulders. His running through rugged terrain isn't the cause of the weird feeling spreading through my body, however. I suspect the smoke I inhaled back at the compound came from more than just wood. The fire enveloped everything it touched, consuming it and using it for fuel to become even more massive. Unfortunately at a drug operation that includes marijuana, peyote, shrooms, and whatever else they were growing. I'm unapologetic as I vomit all over Peel's back.
The flat forest ground turns into an ever growing incline, causing Peel to grunt with effort from carrying me. My eyes feel dried out even though sweat is constantly dripping into them. After blinking several times I'm able to make out other people before us, running from the fire. Behind us the air is orange and dark gray from the smoke. The trees wear fire like a mane and the flames spreading across the forest floor reminds me of lava flowing from a volcano, only this feels much more dangerous. It's like a deadly children's game of pretending the floor is lava, only there's no safe furniture or playground equipment to hop to and from. Why didn't Peel save my mom from the fire instead of me? He promised to save her.
Although I no longer feel the pain of Peel's stun gun, all of my limbs feel too rubbery to put up resistance as I'm carried like a sack of sugar. I'm so nauseous I probably wouldn't make it very far anyways. Better that I save my strength for now while Peel's is sapped from carrying me. He will regret breaking his promise to save my mother. Unless there's a chance I simply imagined her death. Maybe I was never tazed. Maybe I passed out from the smoke and that's why Peel is carrying me. Not sure I can really trust my senses right now. After all, I've forgotten how long I've been watching Dean stumble through the woods behind me intoxicated. There's a large bloody gash on his forehead and shards of glass all over his head and shoulders like dandruff. Even though he's not looking at me as he stumbles through the woods I swear he's staring directly into my eyes.
