My ears ring at the sound of small bombs falling from the drones above.
The Society has been after us for the past two weeks.
I've started talking again. Slowly, but more substantially towards the time being.
Four days ago, Adalene found an engraving on the bark of a deceased tree.
The bark bore the letters AoSA.
Mac had stared at the letters for sometime before changing the course.
He hasn't told us what it means.
~
There are eyes and ears everywhere.
We hurriedly run through the scorched land, hiding behind crumbling bushes and decaying trees, falling into shallow gouges, ducking between crevices, and crouching close to the ground.
Their plan is to demolish us before we reach our target.
I take a risk, and turn around. Adalene and Claire race to catch up, Mac and Meghan are closest to me.
Mac points into a deep gouge in the ground.
"We can't go in there!" I scream over the dusty wind.
"Would you rather die?" he screams back.
The question hits me with a force so powerful, I come to a complete stop.
Hadn't I admitted to myself that I'd rather die than live in a world like this?
Hadn't I decided that I'd rather face death than face life?
Mac yanks me from my thoughts, "WHAT ARE YOU THINKING? WE NEED TO MOVE RIDER!"
I snap back, and realize what I've caused. The three silver bullet drones are atop us.
Meghan screams.
Mac jumps into the deep trench and winces in pain. He landed on his ankle.
Dust flies, stinging my eyes as I do the same.
It happens so fast.
I count quickly, four people. Where's Claire?
Claire's bloodcurdling scream shocks us from above. Adalene frantically searches the ditch, looking for Claire.
I force my stubborn legs to cooperate. I pull myself up, struggling with every crumble of the barren material.
Crying out in pain, I reach the top. I find Claire, about 50 paces away, foot entangled in a tree root.
"CLAIRE!" I yell, stress and adrenaline mix in my veins.
I drone flies overhead, clearly spotting Claire. It readies itself for the release of a bomb.
I run forward quickly, stumbling from the stress.
Claire makes eye contact with me as the bomb falls.
She's silent as the bomb explodes on her lifeless body, blowing bits in every direction.
I scream.
I can't hear.
I could be dead.
I'm not.
Claire is.