Iyisha swallowed hard as the voices shifted again.
Footsteps separated, no longer clustered, spreading out with intent. Some moved away, fanning wider into the trees. Others came closer, slower and heavier, boots crunching with purpose instead of noise.
They were hunting now.
Her eyes slid shut as panic pressed tight against her ribs. A thought cut sharp through the fear, unwanted and cruel. Maybe they should have run farther. Maybe they should have left everything behind sooner, the meat, the hides, the tools, the resources the community needed to stand back up on its feet. Or maybe this was the moment they were supposed to fight for it.
Her jaw clenched. She bit her dry lip, scraped her tongue against cracked skin, grounding herself in the sting as the footsteps drew nearer.
Too near.
She knew what came next. She knew the gunshots would break the dark at any second. Her lungs burned as she held her breath, body locked so tight it felt like stone.
