I sat with my legs crossed, leaning against a thick tree root. The sun had risen and fallen while we traversed the pipeline. The trees outside the fence were taller and thicker, with a canopy that provided almost complete cover from the light of the moon.

The man had started a small fire between two roots. The orange embers lit his face with a strange light. I watched him thoughtfully as I drifted in and out of conscious thought. He had removed the black face mask, revealing strong cheekbones and a sharp nose. His clothes were torn and unkept, and his eyes were ringed by dark circles, giving him a haggard appearance. He was young, probably only a few years older than myself.

“Do you know of this place?” he asked without removing his eyes from the fire.

I blinked in surprise. It was the first time he’d spoken to me since we’d left the pipeline. “No,” I replied.

He ran his fingers over a root. “It’s one of the last old forests. Some of these trees are hundreds of years old.”

Something rustled in the distance. “A person could lose himself here,” I said.

The man nodded and we lapsed back into silence. I traced a pattern on the forest floor with my finger, and a beetle dislodged itself from a leaf and scuttled away in the darkness. A heavy sense of depression settled over me as I thought of the Fortress invasion. Now, after everything has gone wrong, it seems a plan borne of desperation and recklessness.

The man looked up, breaking me out of my reverie. “You haven’t asked who I am,” he observed. His tone had thinned, as if he was testing me.

I inclined my head. “If you wanted me to know, you would’ve told me.”

The side of his mouth twitched. “I was in the crowd last night. A bystander. I joined the protest around midnight, but I ran when the APF arrived.”

I took the bait.“Then how did you see me?”

“I climbed over the hill near the graveyard. That’s when I saw you climb out of the window.”

“And the gates?”

“I used a tree branch to climb over.” He narrowed his eyes, as if daring me to challenge him.

“That’s not true,” I said boldly, “but it’s what I’ll tell the APF if we’re captured.” The man nodded, seemingly satisfied with my answer. I tore a leaf between my fingers. Who is he, really? His cover story was far-fetched at best. If the iron gates were climbable, rebels would have broken into the compound ages ago; not to mention the fact that it would have been impossible to see me from the graveyard.

I sighed and closed my eyes.“Are you in pain?” he asked.

“Better in pain than dead.” At the last word, my voice cracked, my emotions threatening to break through.

“Rest now. I’ll keep watch tonight.” I nodded my thanks and laid between the roots. I breathed deeply before finally, blissfully, giving into the urge to sleep.

***

“Listen to me!” a voice hissed. I lifted my head over the roots, blinking the sleep from my eyes.

“Get out of here!” the man’s voice replied. I crawled closer to the tree trunk and searched for the source of the voices. Only a few yards away, my “rescuer” was having a heated argument with a dark figure. In the darkness, my vision was grainy, and I couldn’t make out their faces.

“You have to go NOW,” the figure growled.

“I’m not ready to travel yet.”

The figure jabbed his finger into the man’s chest. “I don’t know what you’re playing at, but there’s trackers looking for you. I threw them off, but you don’t have long. They’ll bring in the hounds soon.”

The man said nothing, and I crept closer. A sliver of moonlight cut through the trees and illuminated a symbol on the figure’s sleeve. I clamped a hand to my mouth. It was a familiar blood-red circle, the symbol of the APF. How does my so-called rescuer know a member of the APF? I shuddered. It would do me good to keep my distance from him.

“Damn your stubbornness. I won’t protect you if you’re captured.” The figure turned on his heel and blended into the trees. For a moment, the man stood and watched him go. I laid back down as quietly as I could and closed my eyes, as if I had been asleep the entire time.

The man walked over to me and shook my shoulders. “Wake up. We’ve got to move.”

I pulled myself to my feet, trying to ignore my lingering dizziness and the sharp pain in my ankle. We drank from the canteen and started to walk through the forest at a brisk pace. Once again, I had to rely on the man’s support.

We had walked for hours when he suddenly stopped me with an arm. He tilted his head to one side, listening. I strained my ears, but my hearing hadn’t recovered enough. “They’re coming,” he whispered.

“We’ll never outrun them.”

“We don’t have to. Just do as I say and it will be okay.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat, and we set off again, half-walking, half-running. The leaves crunched under my feet, and I stumbled over stones hidden under blankets of dead leaves. My adrenaline did little to mask the pain in my limbs. The night was cool, but sweat quickly beaded at my forehead.

My heart pounded in my chest as I heard voices shouting nearby. I glanced at the man, but he was focused straight ahead. He quickened the pace, almost dragging me behind him. In the distance, a dog howled, and the sound made the hair on the back of my neck stand up.

There was rustling around us, and the man broke into a full-out run. My wounds burned with pain unlike any I had felt before. “G-go without me,” I panted. “I can’t-”

The man’s grip tightened around my arm. “You must!”

A silhouette broke away from the line of trees to our left. “Stop and put your hands up!”

My stomach flipped. It was another APF officer, and he was pointing a rifle straight at us. The man pulled me closer to him. “You won’t shoot me,” he said. His hand moved slowly near my hip, reaching into his belt.

“I will if I have to, traitor.”

“Not without orders from the king.”

“Fuck yo-” In one fluid motion, the man whipped a pistol from his beltloop, flicked off the safety, and fired at the officer. The officer’s face grew slack as he crumpled to the ground, a black crater spreading between his eyes. A perfect shot.

“Come on!” the man said, pulling me forward again. “Now they'll be even more determined to catch us.”

I followed, still in shock. As we wove around the trees, the noises in the distance grew closer. Suddenly, the man stopped and pushed me forward. I gasped as the underbrush gave way, and the ground seemed to drop out below me. I slid down a steep incline, the rocks and sticks tearing at my clothes. Finally, I rolled to a stop at least fifty feet below. “Ugh,” I groaned, my body even more bruised and battered than before. I rolled over onto my back and looked up. Above me stretched the walls of a narrow gorge. Tree branches stretched over the opening, concealing the drop.

A moment later, the man appeared next to me. “Did you really have to push me?” I hissed.

“It would have taken too long to climb down with your ankle.” He helped me up with one hand. We climbed a few yards upwards, where the man brushed the vegetation away to reveal a small alcove. “Hide in there. Don’t come out no matter what.”

He turned to go, but I gripped his arm to stop him. “Where are you going?”

“I need to throw the dogs off the trail. I have scent markers.” He patted his bag and began the climb back up the gorge. I sat down and tucked myself as far into the alcove as I could, taking stock of my situation. My clothes were bloody and torn, and my bandages had been soaked through with blood. Still, my mind was on my “rescuer.” I wonder if he will be okay.

I traced a finger over my knuckles. It was best not to worry–after all, he had out-gunned an APF member without blinking. I breathed deeply and leaned against the side of the gorge, letting myself close my eyes. Another long howl sounded far away.

Maybe this is all a nightmare, and it will disappear in the morning.