Burning. All I could feel was burning.
My lungs.
My legs.
My chest.
My arms.
Everything.
But I couldn't stop it. I couldn't let up. All I could do, all I could afford to do, was to keep going.
So I ran. As people around me screamed and begged for help, I ran. I selfishly ran until everything was burning from the inside out and continued to run some more. Eventually the cries for help faded and I was finally breathing fresh air.
When I managed to get to safety I found my self in the clearing just twenty miles from my town.
My town.
It's gone.
I turned to look behind me and internally broken for the place I once called home. The place that made me who I am today. Where I let hundreds of people die for me. And I didn't even try to do anything to save it.
You couldn't.
I bowed my head, tightened my jaw, and squeezed my eyes shut to silently say a prayer for the people there. Hopefully some made it out and not everyone was lost.
Once I lifted my head and took in my current surroundings, the faint panting of my oldest friend could finally be heard and my mind registered that I wasn't totally alone.
"Damn." he huffed out as he watched our town go up in smoke.
I couldn't say anything, I didn't want to crumble now, so once again I ignored the burning and focused on anything but it.
"We have to get moving. They'll be searching for survivors." I spoke with no emotion.
My emotion went up in flames like everything else did.
"Mate," he put his hand on my shoulder, "We're going to make these people pay. The lives lost was a terrible tragedy but one that inevitably had to be made."
Inevitably!?
"Right." I said through my teeth, finally gaining back some emotion.
Anger.
"Shake it off, Niall. Let's get moving towards the safe house."
We began to head east with nothing but the clothes on our backs and the agony of loss in our hearts. Neither of us said a word. There was nothing really to be said.
We walked for miles upon miles. I could feel my feet blistering and my knees were ready to give out at any moment. But I continued to push past it. The sun had set when we began our journey and as we approached the familiar creek that showed we were almost there, the sun began to rise.
We had walked all night.
Just as planned.
The safe house was more of a shed, old and weathered, but looks can be deceiving. Just below it held the real safe house, one that couldn't be detected. My father built it for the apocalypse. He never got to live to see the day when it would actually have to be used.
We slowly came to a stop when the shed, mostly covered by trees, came in view.
"They're going to die. Every. Single. One."
"Yes, Harry. Yes they are."
