How I ran away

How I stumbled

The gunman dies. The others give up. Too many of their people dead. One by one they drop their weapons and raise their hands.

                “We’re done here,” Dan says looking each one in the eye. He lowers his gaze and gives me a hand. He is the single one that remained uninjured. He takes a sweeping glance around the room, daring anybody to confront him. Nobody does.

                He helps me up and supports me as Twelve did. Then he turns to Twelve. “You okay?”

                Twelve nods. I can't help but wonder if that’s his real name. Now of all the time. But is it? Who would name their son Twelve?

                We limp out. An odd group. Me covered in blood in my broken body. Twelve limping, half his clothes burnt away from the fire. Dan looks as perfect as before the break in. He dusts his shirt with his free hand. we step out from the building onto a highway. Old and barely used.

                “Where are we going?” Twelve asks.

                “Away from here, they’ll realize they let you go and come after us. We have to get away from here.” Dan says.

                “To where?” Twelve asks again.

                “A little down this highway There is this house I was by. We can stay there for a bit.”

                I jump. Not so good for my leg. But just that second a bullet hits the pavement. Where my foot could’ve been. I’m not going through that again.

                “They’re shooting,” I hear Dan mutter. He turns his head, “duck!” he pushes me to the ground. Twelve falls after. A wave of bullets skim over our heads.

                He takes out a gun and shoots targets invisible to me. But he must have gotten them all because after a moment he lowers his gun. A deep scowl on his face.

                “Change of plans. We’re hiding. Now!”

                He jumps to his feet, helps me and Twelve up and then heads across the highway. The only thing there is trees. He is going too fast for me. I lean over onto him and lift my hopping leg completely. He sighs and carries my weight. Not complaining. Like I way nothing.

                There is a small metal border walling the highway from the woods. Twelve steps over it. Dan lifts me to put me over. I shove his hands away.

                “I can do it myself,” I say. He puts me down and I instantly regret it. I hate being weak. Hate it. Hate it. Hate it so much.

                I manage to get over by putting the good leg, balancing and pulling the other. I should have been able to do it effortlessly. Should have.

                The trees are thin at first. Dan grabs my arm and drapes it over his shoulder again. Twelve takes my hand for me to steady myself. I don’t let go.

                Shafts of sunlight shine through but once we walk for a minute that is the only light that reaches us. And after the bright light it takes my eyes a moment to adjust. It is still dark.

                 “I’m sorry, I should have killed them all,” Dan mutters.

                “We’re alive now anyway,” I say.

                We step past a towering tree with a trunk I can't wrap my arms around. And into a small clearing. In the middle, sunlight streams through. Through the canopy of leaves overhead. I put my hand into the light. Light and dark. My skin in two different shades.

                I drop it down to my side and stumble away from Dan’s side. He sits down on a rock. His eyes aware. Observing. Always.

                I didn’t see it. I didn’t hear. The rustling behind me.

                The man in the tree.

                The one with the gun.