Everett: Revised edition

Chapter 15- Edited

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Greg and I snuck through the woods. A decrepit ancient barn mixed with the trees and fallen branches. I thought the barn would collapse at any moment. Half the beams had fallen and snagged on the opposite walls. We climbed over beams gingerly.

"Can't believe you got me into this mess." Greg said, disgruntled.

"How was I supposed to know there would be an ambush? That's your people's job to gather that information." Greg and I held our guns ready as we navigated the remnants of the old barn.

A loud crack rang out and birds scattered, their wings carrying the sound. Greg and I dropped to a crouch among the broken wood beams. My finger moved like lightning to cock my gun. When the birds were out of sight, the sounds quieted too, leaving the two of us in silence once again.

Slowly Greg stood up while I remained close to the ground. My breathing remained heavy, as if I was panting like a dog. I looked down to see a branch, split in two, under my left foot. And with sheepish eyes I looked up at Greg. Greg wasn't paying attention to me; he was already moving forward under the lean-to of a so-called barn. While still half crouching, I began to move forward as well. It was difficult not to make noise as the fallen timbers snapped or clanked as they moved them out of our way.

Greg and I continued to search the barn, "It looks clear," Greg whispered.

I added, "I wish we had a light to look under the beams with."

"It would make our job a bit easier, wouldn't it?"

"What's this?" I whispered in excitement. I was looking at a large pile of wood and debris that was near the back corner of the lean-to. Inside the pile was so black that it seemed like a blackhole was sucking in all the light. "It looks like there might be a pit underneath."

"Go around there. Be ready to cover me," Greg commanded.

I walked slowly and steadily into position. Greg had his gun at the ready. Some sunlight was streaming down through the cracks and splinters of the ruined barn roof.

A dirty piece of cloth flung from underneath the rubble. It lay limp on the ground. "Who's there?" Greg asked. A hand slid one of the larger branches out of the way. Aside from his strong, hairy arm, the individual was still lost in the shadows. "Come out slowly," Greg commanded. A man used his forearms to lift himself out of the pit hidden underneath the pile and into view.

"Noah!" I exclaimed in surprise.

The man labored a little bit more, inching himself into sight. Still on his stomach, and half in the hole, replied, "yes."

"Let us help you up," I offered. Greg and I put away our guns and each lowered our hands to pull Noah out of the hole. "I thought you might be dead," I continued.

"No. Not yet at least. Though I'm in a heap of trouble," Noah said. He appeared a bit out of breath, but tried to hide it well.

"Were you involved with burning that school down," Greg said.

"I could have, but I'm not in liberty to say," Noah said as he gave the boys a suspicious look.

"You look like you're starving, Noah."

"I've been running around for a while now."

"We've been running too," I jumped in, but something seemed off. Both Greg and Noah were speaking with short, snippy answers, but maybe it was just the tension of being on defense. Noah gave me an analyzing look of suspicion. His eyes combed my face up and down.