Savage Run Book I

by E. J. Squires

20

  The next few miles are uneventful as far as blasts going off close to me. From time to time I hear one or two in the distance, but once I reach the site of the explosions, there’s nothing but a gaping hole in the ground or some blood.

  I run on for a while—maybe five miles—and when I hear another landmine go off, I don’t initially react. However, when I hear a scream along with the blast, and continued wailing, I race toward the sound. I can’t just let the guy lie there and die alone, so I run to his side and kneel down next to him.

  I see that it’s Clark from the capsule.

  There’s blood everywhere—on his clothes, in his hair, and even between his teeth. He reaches a trembling hand up toward me, as if asking me to help him. But there is nothing I can do for him except watch him die.

  “You did well,” is all I’m able to say before he closes his eyes and slips away. I exhale with him and don’t remember to take a breath until Arthor shakes my shoulder.

  “Come,” Arthor says. “You have to keep moving.”

  I hit his arm off my shoulder. “This isn’t fair,” I say. Arthor grabs me by the arm and stands me up. He nudges me forward, but my legs refuse to move on their own. Arthor shoves me again, and somehow I’m able to move my legs one step at a time. He keeps on me, nudging me every time I slow down. But I can’t keep going. I swivel around and lunge toward him. “Leave me alone, okay?” I take a swing at him, but he ducks.

  Grabbing me by the waist and turning me around, he says, “Keep moving.”

  “I don’t want to. Take your hands off me.”

  He wraps his arms around me and picks me up, leaving me helpless to do anything but kick my legs and scream. “You don’t have a choice, Heidi.”

  “Stop calling me that.”

  “I’m going to set you down now, so please calm yourself. I promise I’ll keep my distance as long as you continue to run. Will you agree to that?”

  “Fine,” I bark.

  He sets me down and takes three big steps away from me, holding his hands up, his palms facing me. “I’m just trying to help you. I don’t want to see you die out here, don’t you see?”

  “I don’t want to continue.”

  “You might be saying that now, but…there’s so much to live for. I mean…if we make it, our lives will never be the same again. Just hold that thought right there…” He lifts up his hand. “Right in front of you—like a beacon.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Yes, you can. I’ve seen how you bike up those hills in Culmination. Don’t tell me you’re not strong enough. And if you can work that hard for someone else, then I think you can manage to do the same when your freedom is involved.”

  I can’t face him because he’s right. “You don’t know what I’ve been through,” I say. Turning around, I sprint away from him. I don’t want his help; I never asked for it. I just want to be left alone. But maybe I don’t want his help since whenever I’ve received help in the past, so much more is expected in return. Yet, I can’t deny that Arthor is different and doesn’t seem to want anything in return.

  As I continue onward, the muscles in my legs start to tremble. How much farther do I have to run? I still feel somewhat strong, but seeing these young men blown to bits is wreaking havoc with my mind. If I could just sit down and rest for five minutes to think, to process it all, I’d be fine. I just need a moment. To gather my thoughts. To make sense of it all. But I can’t. If I stop, it’s the same as saying I’m dropping out. So I continue—counting my steps. Just one more. Then another. And another.

  True to his word, Arthor keeps his distance for the next few miles. Mile after mile, my mouth feels drier and drier. What I wouldn’t give for a glass of water right now, and a shot of painkillers to dull the achiness in my feet. Biking is so much easier on the feet.

  All of a sudden, I hear at least ten landmines go off back to back in the distance. I stop when I hear the cries of the wounded young men, and immediately I plug my ears. I can’t listen to their screams because it’s as if their voices bleed into my bones. From the corner of my eye, I see Arthor zooming past me. What is he doing? When he’s about a hundred feet in front of me, he slows down to a jog and glances back at me. I keep moving. Reaching the place of the massive blast, I see that there’s nothing left. Nothing but craters and blood. No injured participants. No bodies. I suppose if one is too injured to continue, then one is taken to the hospital. For the sake of their families, at least I hope this is the case.

  My feet are dragging to the ground now. Surely, I must be coming to the end of the marathon soon. I have to be. My right foot has gone numb and I need to pee, but there’s no way I’m going to stop in the open area to squat to relieve myself. That’s one thing that’s unfair about this; the guys can just whip it out and do their business. My head has been pounding for some time, and I know I’m in danger when I stumble over a small rock in my path. Catching myself with my palms, I let out a cry. They are still sore from my fall yesterday, and the wounds reopen and start to bleed. I roll onto my back and rest my arm across my eyes to shield them from the sun. It feels so good to rest. Every last muscle in my body screams for me to stay down. But it’s not long before I hear footsteps, and when I uncover my eyes, I see Arthor standing above me.

  “Don’t you dare,” I say, holding my arm out in front of me.

  “Then get up!”

  “No.”

  “Five…four…”

  “Are you kidding me?”

  “Three…”

  I stagger to my feet and brush the sand and rocks off my palms. “There, happy?”

  “Yes. Now run.” He points.

  “Since when are you my Master?”

  “I’m not your master. Just a friend.”

  I know his intentions aren’t to boss me around or to hurt me; they’re to help me. But the way he’s doing it is driving me crazy. “Okay, okay, just run ahead. I’ll follow.” My voice is harsher than I intended, but I’m too tired to make amends.

  We continue on like this for a while, him glancing back at me, me grumbling every time he does. From time to time, a landmine explodes, but instead of looking toward the explosion, I’ve learned to train my eyes on the back of Arthor’s head. Maybe having him here isn’t as bad as I thought.

  The sun hangs high in the sky, and every step has my legs screaming at me. What I wouldn’t do to have my bike here. In the near distance, a whole bunch of landmines go off at once—fifty, sixty, maybe more—startling me enough to get the blood flowing to my brain. I stop and lean my hands on my thighs, giving myself just a moment to recover. Then, I hear whooping and screaming just beyond the gentle hill where Arthor is. He looks back at me, and his lips rise in triumph.

  “We made it!” Arthor yells.