The Resistance

Chapter 6

Ben had no idea how long he'd been running. The sun was fully up now. He'd guess the time to be around 7 am. He'd lost Zambia about an hour ago, just after the sunrise. The soldiers came after him the second they took care of her, but thanks to her sacrifice, he had a head start. Though, he wasn't happy about it.

Under different circumstances, Ben would have loved to stop and admire the countryside. Tall, skinny pines towered over him, their bark worn off in places from elk or bears. He'd passed a huge, glassy lake framed by gorgeous mountains and rocky cliffs. The sky was a light blue, half of it covered by a soft blanket of light gray clouds. The rain from the night before, (which he hadn't even noticed), had left everything a rich green color, a more pleasant aftermath of the rain than Ben's soaked clothes.

But Ben didn't have time to stop and take in all these things. He was running for hid life. He hadn't seen the soldiers for some time now, which was probably a bad sign.
Maybe...maybe they gave up. He thought. Maybe I'm free for good. Maybe they decided to go back, or got eaten by a bear, or- BOOOOM!!!!
Or maybe they're right behind me.

Splinters sprinkled down on him as one of the trees closest to him exploded. "There he is! Get 'im!"

Ben turned sharply to the right and plunged into a narrow ravine. It wasn't very big, only ten feet high or so, and three feet across. But it was twisty, and massive boulders covering the top at some points offered sufficient cover from their guns as he ran.

Ben's feet hammered the hard grey stone beneath his feet. The only other sounds beside his labored breathing were the constant CRACK of ricochetted bullets and angry shouts of his pursuers.
Why are they after me? I'm not that important.
Well, as far as he knew was unimportant. He really didn't know that much about himself.

BANG!!

Ben stumbled. His right shoulder roared with flaming pain. I'm hit.
He clamped his hand over the wound and kept running. Faster, sharp right, sudden left, jump down and veer right again....

With his new injury, small details Ben's adrenaline had hidden came to focus. His legs hurt. Aching legs, his shoulder throbbing, the pounding in his chest, the rush of adrenaline coursing through him, his labored breathing. It came to him as harsh blur, unrealistic, but all too real.

Ben shot out of the ravine, crouching as he ran, making a zig zag to the south. Zambia said this way...she wouldn't have lied. Ben hoped. No, she'd had no reason to lie. There was something this way, he just couldn't see it yet.

The pounding of hard boots on the soft soil behind him reminded Ben not to slow down. His adrenaline was wearing off. His shoulder was on fire, throbbing, he could feel hot blood on his hand covering the wound. He was slowing down, too. Ben's legs were burning. He couldn't keep up this pace much longer, and he had no clue what lay ahead. He glanced over his shoulder to see how close behind him they were.

Huge mistake.

The second Ben turned his head, he tripped on the nearest log. Which happened to be on the crest of a hill.

"Whaaaaa!!!!!"

The expression "Head over heels" had never been so literal.

Ben rolled over and over, going down the hill at top speed. He had no control, and hit every obstacle along the way. All he could do was guess what the blur ahead of him was and hope for the best.
A tree?
WHAM!
A Log?
SMACK!
and so on.

Ben could still faintly hear the soldiers, but they weren't anywhere near as close as they had been.
In the mean time, Ben's stomach was sending warning signs, and he thought he might have seen the bottom of the hill.
Ow! Rock!
DODGE.
Whew, uh...
Gray, looming, blurry...what was that?
It was at the base of the hill, and coming up fast. It also seemed to spread in both directions...