Green Desert - Chapter 1.4.3 - Fírí

I ran hunched over, expecting Zhíno’s bullet in my back. The house’s floodlights cast harsh shadows through the patchy brush and cactuses. I could only see the uneven ground in bits and pieces. I stepped high in the black parts, hoping to miss big rocks like I could see in the light bits.

A shot. I tensed. It missed. I tripped.

The ground whammed into me. I couldn’t breathe. A knife in my temple. Alarms in my ears. I rolled over, trying to gasp. Nothing worked. I was going to die. I could tell I was passing out. Lack of oxygen. My eyesight grew dim. Only a few stars left.

Air! My lungs suddenly worked. I gulped in deep breaths of the delicious, cold air. Big lungfuls.

I looked down at myself. Dirt––gray in the low light––covered my bare chest and stomach. Dark cuts on my ribs flowed thick down my sides. Knees fine––jeans. Elbows even worse than my ribs, dirty flaps of bloody skin. I cringed and brushed some loose hairs from my face. My face was sticky. My hand covered in blood, dark and shiny. . . I think I did pass out then.

Next thing I remember, I was scurrying around the back corner of the house, holding my sweatshirt tight to my forehead. I glanced behind me. The countryside flashed in green and red. More than one siren. I couldn’t see the driveway, but I heard tires spray gravel and then the heavy metal crunch of cars colliding.