CASTAWAY ⚓ R.C, J.M

O N E

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R U N RA B B I T

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Beads of sweat lined Harley's messy, brown hair. Shallow, erratic gasps fought there way from her tight chest. Every muscle in her legs and arms ached with fatigue. Her feet numb from the punishing run. She had run so far and fast, and run herself into the ground. Her eyes sparked with her freedom, albeit her vision clouded with fading dark spots.

It took one more deep, laboured breath to get her heart rate somewhat under control, so she could start to walk. The more distance she put between herself and Figure Eight the better, because the second the Cameron's realise she's nowhere on the estate Rafe would come looking.

The warmth of the glowing sun brought Harley some solace. It felt good to feel the heat of the sun on her skin.

Now that Harley wasn't high off adrenaline and she could hear the gentle breeze rather than her own heartbeat, she wasn't sure how much further she could go. The limp from her left leg got more pronounced as she ambled down an empty road. Pulses of pain wrapped around her thigh not letting her forget her bandaged stitches.

After a few more minutes of hobbling, the sound of an approaching car elevated Harley's anxiety. The road had been silent before the slowing car behind her. She started to curse herself for walking out in the open. she should have tried to obscure herself in the shrubbery, but that would have made things worse for her leg.

"Harley?" That wasn't Rafe's voice. "Harley, what are you doing out here alone?"

She deflated at Mr Carrera's voice. The anxiety that had riddled her oozed away. The Cameron's hadn't found her and it wasn't a run in with Barry.

"Mr Carrera, hi." Harley shaded her eyes and smiled at the man in his truck.

"What happened to your leg?"

"Oh." I got shot. "I had a bit of a fall and cut myself. Nothing too bad."

"It doesn't look like it. You were limping pretty bad there. Get in."

Harley didn't protest. There was no way she could walk any more on her leg, and being out of the open made her feel safer.

"Thanks. It's honestly not that bad," Harley gestured to her leg. She didn't want Kiara's dad to worry or mention anything to anyone. If she told him the truth he wouldn't believe her and if he did then he'd take her to the cops. A place she wanted to stay far from. "I've just been walking a little too long."

Mr Carrera had been heading to the Wreck, so Harley tagged along. The first place Rafe would look was the Chateau, so she didn't have anywhere else to go. At least at the Wreck she was in a public space where he couldn't do anything.

The drive had been quicker than expected. Harley had travelled much further than she anticipated. She was grateful to Mr Carrera for putting a few more miles between her and that hellhole. The entire drive she had stared up at the fluffy clouds and let her mind go blank just for a little while. It was nice to not worry, even if for only ten minutes.

Before they both left the vehicle, Mr Carrera turned to Harley with a stern look.

"Whilst I'm happy you are ok, whatever prank or joke you, Kie and those boys are playing has got to stop. I know you're all grieving, but the things you're saying are going to get somebody in serious trouble. Or yourself."

Harley sat in a dazed confusion. She didn't understand what Mr Carrera was referring to or know what had been said by the others. He probably didn't know she hadn't seen Kie in a while, but that made her worry even further on what was said. By the looks of Mr Carrera, it sounded serious, like something they shouldn't joke about. It gave the impression that lies were told and he thought they had been said for the group's own laugh. That didn't make any sense though. Was this about what had actually happened at the airstrip? Had the group confided in him and had they not believed him?