EMMA
Shit. s**t. s**t. s**t. s**t.
Shit!
We leap across another tree, legs pounding down on hard gravel. Rylan still hasn't left my hand, his strong grip steering me relentlessly.
"Don't let them get away!" A guard yells.
When I stumble over the uneven ground, Rylan catches me, wrapping a large hand around my bicep. He hauls me to my feet easily, pushing me in front of him. My breaths tear out of me and the wind whips my face punishingly, sending hair and the scent of evergreens into my nose. Gnarled branches lie low, preventing our desperate escape.
"Wha--" My gasp is torn when Rylan nudges me in a different direction. The sound of water slapping against boulders become evident.
When we get to the raging stream, he shrugs off his bag, throwing it into the river. The practice dummy
