Danger
659 Words
Leaves thrashed in the wind. Branches snapped like bones. Shadows moved too quickly to follow. Something snarled in the dark—a guttural, feral sound that didn’t belong to any normal animal.
We were running.
I couldn’t remember when we’d started. Couldn’t remember how we ended up out here in the first place. I just knew my lungs burned, my heart thundered in my chest, and Ronan was gripping my wrist like letting go meant death.
Something howled behind us. Not a dog. Not anything normal.
My foot snagged a root and I stumbled, barely catching myself. Ronan didn’t stop. He yanked me back to my feet with terrifying strength, his face pale and focused.
“We’re not gonna make it,” I breathed.
His eyes cut to mine—dark, sharp, and serious.
“Yes, we will.”
•••
About fifteen minutes prior:
I crashed into him with a thud that rattled my teeth.
One second I was stepping around a rock, the next I was flat on top of Ronan, elbows digging into the dirt and knees tangled awkwardly in his legs. My hands had somehow landed on his chest—solid, warm, and way too close.
“Well,” I muttered, “this is not how I imagined dying.”
His breath hitched, but he didn’t push me off or say anything sharp. Just stillness—surprised, maybe, but calm. Grounded.
The overload hit me hard and fast. The scent of grass and dust, the faint electric tang of ozone in the air, and underneath it all—him. Ronan. He smelled like earth after rain, like pine needles and something colder, sharper. My brain couldn’t decide what to focus on. Everything felt too close. Too real.
I blinked rapidly, trying to get a grip. “Not that I’m complaining,” I added, still sprawled over him, “but I’m not usually the one falling for people this literally.”
That earned the faintest twitch of his lips—barely there, but real.
“You alright?” he asked, voice low. Not impatient. Not annoyed. Just… asking.
I nodded too quickly and finally pushed myself off, brushing dirt from my palms and pretending like I wasn’t on the verge of spontaneous combustion.
“Yep. Graceful as ever. You?”
He sat up slowly, brushing off his sleeves. “Fine.”
Of course he was. Of course Ronan would handle being tackled by a girl in the middle of nowhere with the composure of someone who got tackled daily.
I shoved my hands into my pockets, trying to ignore how loud the world still was. The wind rustling through the grass sounded like waves crashing. A bird chirped nearby and it made me flinch. Somewhere in the distance, I swore I could smell bacon. Bacon. Why bacon?
“You’re sure you didn’t hit your head?” Ronan asked again, a little more carefully this time.
“I’m fine,” I said. Then hesitated. “I think. Just… everything feels really loud. And sharp. It’s probably nothing. Summer heat or something.”
He didn’t press. Just studied me for a second longer, like he was seeing more than I was saying, and then stood.
I followed, brushing off my legs. The air had shifted somehow—cooler than before, with a damp edge. A breeze cut through the field, stirring the tall grass in waves, and something in my gut tightened.
Ronan turned slightly, gaze fixed on the tree line just beyond the hill. “Do you hear that?”
I paused, straining my ears.
Nothing.
Then—too far off to be casual—a branch snapped.
Another one. Closer.
Then something snarled.
It didn’t sound like a dog. It sounded wrong. Wet and sharp and hungry.
My spine stiffened. “Please tell me that was just a raccoon on steroids.”
He didn’t answer. He grabbed my wrist, gentle but firm.
“Run.”
- Writer
