19
Mila
Location: Forest — Under Active Fire
Time: Immediate
The first bullet hits the tree above my head.
Splinters rain down.
Sharp. Fast. Too close.
“Move!” Jase snaps.
I don’t think.
I don’t hesitate.
I move.
We break in opposite directions for half a second—instinct, survival—
Then his hand catches mine again.
Not letting go.
Not this time.
Gunfire tears through the clearing behind us.
Controlled bursts.
Not random.
Not warning shots.
They’re herding us.
“They’re pushing us east,” I say, breath tight.
“I see it.”
Another round hits the ground near my feet—dirt kicks up—too precise—
“They don’t want us dead,” I whisper.
“No,” Jase says grimly.
“They want you contained.”
Jase
Yeah.
That’s not happening.
I pull her down behind a cluster of rocks just as another sweep of fire cuts through the trees.
