"Are you gonna call me Mr. Lizard from now?"
"Of course."
[Book One of The Adelaide Duncan Series]
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CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
ADELAIDE
Thomas and I stare at the Grievers ahead. The Grievers viciously look at us, scan us, waiting us for us to make the first move.
I and Thomas look at each other and a silent agreement passing through us.
If we go down, we go down fighting.
I take my arrow and balance it on the string. Quickly, I shot my arrow to the red scanning light on one of the Grievers' back.
It screams in rage, running towards us. Thomas charges to it, leaving me with two others.
The Grievers screech has I run the other way, taking out another arrow.
I have just six arrows left and 5 more hours to spend. I should have got more arrows.
Thomas is running behind me. We take a sharp left and I suddenly collide onto something hard.
Minho.
He had left us.
He left me.
He just left.
"Bloodyfuck-face!" I scream, "What the fuck are you doing here you bloody fuckerfuck-face?!" Minho shshhes me.
"You have a mouth of a sailor!" he whispers. It only fuels my anger. I set my bow and arrow away and punch his nose.
"Ow!" Minho wails, clutching his nose. "What the shuck, Ally? I'm sorry!"
"You fucking left us!" I screech.
"I wanted all of us to survive!"
"How? By letting an armature Runner and a Greenie alone to fend for themselves?!"
"I thought-"
Thomas suddenly screams, "Run!"
We three run in an instant.
Everything is muffled, except for my pounding heart. I squeeze my eyes every now and then because of a painful cramp growing in my side from running too long. My ankle feels like it can snap into two any moment.
I try to focus on other things to divert my mind from the pain, but there is always new pain to focus on, like my heart pounding heavily, my legs aching painfully because of running and being squeezed in a small place with Thomas for so long, my hands bleeding from being scarped and my bleeding elbows from falling down from the ivy.
Minho takes the lead, running confidently, never stopping as he takes turns after turns. Away from the constant click and whir.
As we take another right turn, Minho slows his pace slightly.
