Status: 14th May 2015: writing up two important chapters for later on in the story so I have something to work towards :)

Running Scared

The Brave

I trip through the line of trees, stumbling to my knees. I register the pain, stabbing and sharp, through my jeans, then Grahame's hands reaching under my arms to haul me to my feet, pinching at the skin there.

Instinctively, I press my hands to my stomach, an unnecessary need to assure myself that we're fine. I don't even know why, it's far too early for me to feel the baby move yet but suddenly, this feels like it for me, a last chance to connect with this living thing inside of me before it was no longer mine. The moment I get caught is the moment it's all over, I'll be nothing more than a breathing life support for the baby until it's born.

"You alright?" Grahame asks, stooping down to brush the debris off my knees. "It looks like you're bleeding under your jeans."

My words come out shaky but I nod. "Yeah, I'm fine, it doesn't matter. We'll sort it out later."

I let Grahame lead me, his hand squeezing my own over and over again, half dragging me as I turn my head to search behind us. There's no one that I can see but questions flit through my mind; how many are there? Did they see us? They'll know we were in the farmhouse because of the den that Grahame had made and the plastic sheet we had to leave behind. They'll know it was us but could they track us to this patch of forest?

I'm not sure. I've never known anyone to actually escape the Community. If they had, the chances are the Enforcers have kept it quiet from the rest of us. I doubt many of us would have attempted to flee anyway, the idea of the forest is so wholly alarming; the rumours of wild animals and exposure to the elements, so little protection. They would rather live with a roof above their heads and food in their stomachs, despite the strict laws of the government. They're not crazy, they know where their best chances of survival lies, they know what their limit is.

I turn my head to look behind again but Grahame releases me, suddenly falling to the floor, his fingers pressed to his head. I nearly trip over him and it takes me a moment to figure out what has happened, why his hand is no longer warm and clinging to mine and why he is on the ground, his mouth shrieking a terrible cry, high and halting. An Enforcer steps away from the cover of a tree trunk, a rock fixed in her grip, grinning triumphantly.

"What have you done?!" I demand, standing up on my toes to look around her, to see Grahame.

She shoves me back roughly and I have to work to keep my balance.

"I stopped him." she says simply, piercing me with a sharp look. Her fingers loosen around the rock, letting it fall to the floor. She has a much more efficient weapon at her disposal, attached to her hip.

I don't recognise her; arched eyebrows, thin nose, her bottom lip fuller than the top. She wears her dark hair scraped back into a high ponytail, so tightly pulled that her face appears stretched. Her patrol area must be further afield from my building, I can't even recall seeing her at executions.

There's blood smeared across Grahame's hand when he finally takes it away, so he's distracted when the Enforcer swings a foot into his face. I flinch, step forward until the Enforcer pulls out the gun from its holster.

"I wouldn't move if I were you." she hisses, smirking at the look of distress on my face when Grahame whines from the floor. She aims another kick at him, this time in his stomach, hard enough to lift him from the ground. "You really thought you could escape us?"

I realise that I'm crying and wipe my face with a sleeve but it's useless. Enforcers aren't moved by emotions, they lack empathy, all it does is raise a smile from her and earns Grahame another kick in the gut. He groans, louder than ever, his face covered with blood and dirt, his body curled into the fetal position. He looks so tiny, so vulnerable, that I try again to go to him.

The aim of the gun lands on my face.

"Give me one reason not to blow your face off right this second."

I can't take my eyes off Grahame. He's miraculously pulling himself back onto his feet, a steady stream of blood dripping from his nose. It must be broken, the angle of it is all wrong. Dirt is crusting his cheeks and chin, mixing to a gory paint over his face and matting in his beard, tear tracks cutting through it, creating a streaked pattern against his skin. He's practically doubled over but he's standing now, his teeth bared in what I can only presume is agony. I can hear him suck in a pained gasp of air from here. He looks at me without lifting his face, like he's too ashamed to really see me. Ashamed he let us get caught, I realise.

"Did you hear me?" she screeches, marching over to me, the cool metal of the gun pressing into my temple. "Why should I let you live a few minutes longer?!"

"Just - just let me go to him. Please." I sob, pressing my fingers into my eyes, as if it could stop my crying.

She barks an incredulous laugh, clicking the safety of the gun off. "For christ's sake! Are you stupid? Am I speaking a language that you can't understand? You better answer me or else I'm pulling this trigger right fucking now - "

"She's pregnant!" Grahame interjects, his voice growing weak. "She's...she's pregnant."

The Enforcer turns to him, a crease forming between her eyebrows, working out the situation. She keeps the gun tacked on me as she approaches Grahame again. He just stands there, trying as hard as he can to stand a little straighter, to appear more dignified, before she brings down her fist on his shoulder. He crumples to his knees, all the fight gone out of him. Her focus moves off of me, knowing there's nothing she can do about me until after the birth, and lands the barrel of the gun against his heart instead.

"A pity. So you decided to hightail it out of the Community, huh? I bet you're the father then."

I don't know what to do. I'm about to see Grahame get executed. He spares a glance over at me, one desperately heartbreaking glance, a sheeny film glazing over his eyes, his shoulders sagging in defeat. He mouths 'I'm sorry' before squeezing his eyes shut, his whole body quaking with fear.

I want to tell him it's okay; it's okay we were found out because at least we tried, it's okay that I'm going to die because I know that I did my best to get away, that it's okay for him to be scared to look at his killer when her bullet punctures his heart. It's okay to be afraid sometimes, I want to scream. It's what makes you human.

That's when I spot Grahame's bag, abandoned on the ground from where he dropped it, the contents spilling out amongst the leaves and twigs. The gun we stole is half obscured by the mouth of the backpack and I don't even have to think twice. I am not Grahame, I will not spare a thought for this woman when she is standing in the way of our lives.

"Congratulations. You might have been a daddy." the Enforcer says flatly, raising the gun to a better position.

I beat her to it though. I'm gripping the gun in both hands when she drops to the floor, breathing hard through my nose. Grahame seems too terrified to open his eyes, he can't know that I shot the Enforcer, so I rush over to him, keeping the gun in my hand in case I need it again. I shove the body away from him so that I can get closer.

"Grahame...Grahame!" I whisper, shaking his shoulders to get him to look at me. His nose is still bleeding so I hold my sleeve to it, hoping to staunch the flow of the blood. "Come on, the others probably heard the gun go off."

He opens his eyes, not daring to believe we are both still alive.

"You saved me." he breathes, a tentative smile working its way across his features. His teeth shine with his blood.

I nod, gently pulling his arm around my shoulders. "Yes. I figured I owed you one. It's about time I saved your life instead of you saving mine...not that I'm keeping a tally." I add, trying to make him laugh.

It works but he pays for it, exhaling sharply through his teeth. He wraps an arm around his stomach as we rise to our feet.

"She beat the shit out of me."

I let out a breathy chuckle, appreciative that instead of punishing himself, he's trying to be lighthearted about this. "No kidding. I thought you were supposed to defend me, not crumble at the mercy of one single Enforcer."

We grab all the items that fell from the bag, throwing them in as quickly as we can. I help Grahame slide the straps onto his shoulders.

"I'll work on it. I think you have the whole ass-kicking thing covered though." he tells me softly, pressing a bloody hand against my cheek for a moment. His thumb brushes against my skin, pressing carefully into the space between my jaw and my ear, before he drops it back to his side.

I make him use me as a crutch. I can tell he's not leaning his whole weight on me though, downplaying the extent of his injuries. He walks with a limp and I can hear the little intakes of breath he takes with every step.

"You shot an Enforcer, too." I remind him, encouraging him to pick up his pace. "By the fence, remember?"

"That was only an accident. I was just trying to wrestle the gun out of his hands, I didn't meant to shoot him. The bullet could have, ahh - " he groans quietly, his eyelids shutting briefly. He continues talking but his voice sounds tight. "It could have hit you. What you just did? That was amazing. It was brave...you're brave."

"Oh god, Grahame. Let's not start this. We both saved each others lives, let's just focus on surviving through today, okay?"

"Sure thing."

"Good." I say. "And for the record, you're brave too. You're the bravest person I've ever known."
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Hi, guys! I'm trying to be consistent with the updates, I really want to finish this story before the year is out. That would bring my finished stories up to a grand total of 4 (although I only really count 'An Undead Boy' because my earlier stories are terrible, I cringe so bad when I reread them).

As always, cheers for reading/subscribing/possibly recommending etc :)