Lunar Virus ✔️

Chapter Thirty-two: Elodie

I run.

To catch up to Sheila and the others, I have to be going at a pace faster than theirs. I practically have to fly. I comfort myself by saying that Eli will be okay. I mean, other than dying of thirst or maybe starving to death, there is no real threat in that chamber that could kill him before I got back to help him.

I push my legs harder, leaping over crevices and stumbling over rocks, all while trying to control my breathing. I focus on the pace of my footfalls in correspondence to the pace of my breaths.

How far is Sheila from where I am right now? Two miles? Three?

I quicken my pace; if I can keep a 6-minute mile pace, I can meet up with them in eighteen minutes, that is, if they are only three miles away. Any more than that and my pace would falter. My steps echo in the tunnels, bouncing in one ear, and out the other, seeming like drums in the dead quiet.

My breaths puff.

My heart thumps.

A sound comes from beneath the ground, sending my heart into overdrive and my feet into a full sprint.

Was it a laugh? Or a scream?

I’m not sure which is worse.

In a full sprint, my body protests, my lungs burn, and my head reels in a panic as I struggle to find air in the thick musk of the underground prison.

Breathe.

Breathe.

There’s nothing here, I tell myself.

Forcing myself to slow, I twist check for the origin of the noise.

As I twist back to face forward, I feel something tighten just below my ribs into a rock of pain.

Breathe, I think.

In the through the mouth, out through the nose.

My surroundings start to blur as I continue to concentrate solely on my steps and the ground in front of me.

I exit the branched tunnel and reach the fork in which Sheila and I had parted before. My mind begs me to sit down, to rest. I push on and turn into the other tunnel. I can do this.

A clang behind me sets my nerves up in a flame down my back and into my legs, cramping my stomach and all of a sudden, I’m sprinting again, weaving through various obstacles of rock and silt.

Minutes later, I start to feel pain creep in. I hadn’t stretched or been running for the past few days, and my body was in no shape to output this much energy with the amount of sleep I’d been getting.

In the low light, my eyes burn, tearing against the air flowing against it. A fog of fatigue makes any sounds distant and shapes warped. Waves of heat steal my strength and prevent sweat from cooling me in any sufficient way.

I can no longer find the focus or discipline to maintain a pace.

I just go as fast as I can.

My legs, my feet, all cry out in pain, and I feel myself faltering.

Blinking moisture back into my eyes, and sucking air into my lungs, I notice noises coming from in front of me. I know immediately it’s Sheila.

Sheila! I will them to stop. I want them to hear me.

A surge of adrenaline rushes through me, making my limbs tingle to numb.

Just as quickly, the surge subsides and pain grabs me again, but still, I think I’m going to make it.