My lungs burn with every breath, and each inhale feels shallow and incomplete. My legs shake as I force them forward, muscles screaming with fatigue and strain. The hem of the white dress tears repeatedly as branches catch it and rip fabric away. My shoes slip on damp leaves and loose soil, making everystep unstable. My chest aches with every breath, the taste of iron thick in my mouth as my throat dries out.
Jared breaks first.
He bolts forward, stumbling at the start before forcing himself into a run. Panic drives him harder, his breath ripping out in ragged pulls as he sprints across the ground.
“Jared, wait!” I shout.
He doesn’t stop. He runs straight between two trees, head up, lungs ripping for air, throwing everything he has left into speed. Branches lash at his arms. His shoes tear through mud and dead leaves.
He never sees the wire.
Piano wire stretches between the trees, pulled tight enough to hum. It blends into the dark like a hairline crack in glass.
Jared runs straight into it.
The sound comes first. A sharp metallic twang. Then a thick tearing noise.
The wire catches him across the throat.
His body keeps driving forward. The force of his sprint presses his neck harder into the line, and the wire bites deep. Skin splits open instantly. Muscle parts under the tension. The wire carves through him as his own momentum drags him along it.
Blood bursts outward in a violent spray, misting the bark and spattering the leaves.
A strangled choke tears out of him, cut short as the wire slices farther back. His airway opens. His voice dies in his throat.
His knees buckle.
He hits the ground, the wire snapping loose and vibrating between the trees.
His hands claw at the dirt. Fingers dig into wet soil as his body tries to process what just happened. His legs kick wildly, heels gouging into the earth.
His neck gapes open.
The front of his throat hangs in torn layers. Blood pumps out in thick surges. It runs down his chest, soaks into his shirt, pools beneath his face.
Blood fills his mouth and spills over his lips. His jaw works uselessly, eyes wide and unfocused.
His movements slow. One hand twitches against the leaves.
Then his body goes still.
Emma screams.
The sound tears out of her chest and doesn't stop. She freezes for half a second, staring at what is left of him, then runs toward his body without slowing.
“Emma, stop!” Miles shouts.
She doesn’t listen.
She makes it three steps.
An axe flies from the left and slams into the back of her skull.
The crack splits the air.
The blade punches through bone and buries deep, driving her head forward with brutal force. There is a sickening crunch as the metal splits through skull and sinks in.
Blood bursts out immediately.
