Eight
“Leave the pig!” Olive screams. Ilga looks horrified.
“What? But we need it—”
Olive grabs her by the collar and pulls her face close. “There’ll be no village to feed, pig or not, if we don’t get back now!” she snarls. “Move!”
She releases Ilga, spitting out her sugar cane as she grabs her rifle from the ground. She sets off at a run back towards the village. There’s no time to argue. They all follow. The whine of the siren reaches a painful pitch and Solma swears, running so hard her lungs scream. She overtakes Olive just as the five of them burst from the woods, her blade-foot clanging against stones.
“Warren!” she shrieks. Where is he? She scans the horizon, feels the fear in the air. A thin ribbon of smoke rises from the edge of the village. Solma pulls away from the rest of
