8
Milo sprinted through the Downs. The dim balls of light disappeared in the distance as the others out ran him by several yards. What little visibility he had was gone, so it was no surprise when his foot caught on a thick root sticking up out of the ground. There was no stopping the inevitable. His arms flailed out to the side, leaving his stomach unprotected. He slammed into the ground with a thud, loosing what little breath he had left. He gasped for air, but got a mouthful of pine needles instead. He swiped at his mouth and spit, then rolled onto his back and opened his eyes. The Downs were quiet and dark; so dark he couldn't see his hand in front of his face. The shadowy blob could be standing over him and he wouldn't know it. He exhaled shakily and stood up.
“Guys,” he whispered.
