Falling With Grace

I rolled away from the scene and crawled around the rock, coming face to face with Sarah, her eyes wide.

“Shh.” I placed my finger to my lips and took the teen into my arms, her body shaking as I caressed her hair. “They don’t know we’re up here.”

“They do now.” Jorge dragged Monica behind him. “Duarte pointed us out. We need to leave.”

Shit.

I scrambled to my damaged feet, grabbed Sarah by the hand, and bolted away from the trail the group had taken—away from our planned safety.

Adrenaline shot through my veins, triggering the primal urge to put distance between us all, to leave them in the dust, and vanish without a trace. My hand locked onto Sarah’s, her weary legs moving as fast as she could.

“We need to find another place to cross.”

Ortiz had a topographic map hanging on the wall in his room like a trophy, and each time he’d pull me in, I’d study it like it were the SATs.

I mentally tallied each dip in elevation.

“There are two more chances to cross before it levels out.”After that, we’ll be sitting ducks.

I glanced over my shoulder when a slight yip sounded behind me and faltered.

Monica landed on her hands and knees. Blood trickled down her forehead, curling under her brow as Jorge helped her to her feet.

“Are you okay?” I released Sarah, backtracked, and helped Monica dust off her scraped knees.

The romp of a two-stroke engine ripped through the canopy, freezing my erratic heart.

More came from all directions and had my feet itching to move.

“Run.” As I turned on my heels, the words skipped through my lips with barely an audible note. “Run.”

I darted in and out of the trees. My feet screamed as the cuts reopened on the harsh terrain, my lungs burned, and my muscles stretched. Jorge and Monica followed behind Sarah, who trailed me like I was their lifeline.

How did I become in charge of so many lost souls?

What if I failed them?

Blinding light erupted directly ahead and to the right, their deafening engines overpowering as I skidded to a halt, my bare feet kicking up rocks.

My breath burst in and out as I looked all around us. “We’re surrounded.”

“What do we do, Grace?” Jorge wrapped his arms around a limping Monica.

“I don’t know.” I shook my head, my chest rising and falling, the world bleeding out around me.

Choosing to go straight meantriskingcapture while retracing our steps promised it.

The only viable option loomed over the rocky embankment—a less steep terrain than our current location but still dangerous.

“We…”

The engines drew closer. “Over here!” a man shouted in Spanish astride his dirt bike.

His bike skidded sideways as he planted his military-style boot on the ground.

Monica screamed and ripped away from Jorge’s arms, darting in the direction we’d run from.

She took two steps to the right, then to the left, when a dirt bike stopped in her path. The driver raised his gun and blew her matter all over the trees.