Badlands

10

Theana's touch was light on my shoulder, gentle but insistent, rousing me from the depths of slumber. 

"Maude," she whispered. 

I pushed myself up onto my elbows.

"Wha—" I started, my voice rough with sleep, but she placed a finger to her lips, silencing me with a glance that held more weight than words.

"Maude," Theana's voice was a whisper. "We need to run. Now." Her eyes locked onto mine, her gaze fierce and commanding.

Theana's grip on my arm was ironclad, her fingers digging into my flesh as if she could tether me to the earth with her touch alone. "Keep your eyes down," she ordered, a stern edge cutting through her hushed tones. The command was clear, brooking no argument or hesitation.

"Down?" My voice was barely a breath, yet it seemed too loud in the charged silence that enveloped us. "But what's out there, Theana? What are we—"

"Shh." She cut me off with a sharp look. Her eyes flickered with something dark and unreadable. We stood for a heartbeat, Theana's gaze drilling the urgency of her command into me without another word spoken.

I swallowed hard, forcing myself to look at the ground littered with dead leaves and twigs.

Her eyes, usually so steady and sure, darted about with an animal wariness that set my heart hammering.

"Everything," she said, her voice barely above a murmur, yet it carried the weight of an encroaching storm.

Her next words came as a hiss, urgent and demanding. "Can you run?"

I nodded, not trusting my voice to carry over the thunderous pounding of my heartbeat. My legs, though tense and ready to uncoil, felt rooted in the damp earth. Yet, I knew when Theana asked me if I could run, it wasn't doubt that laced her question; it was a plea for affirmation.

For a heartbeat, I stood motionless, taken aback by the depth of her gaze. It was a look that spoke volumes, betraying a vulnerability I hadn't seen in her before. 

Her fingers unfurled like petals, reaching out towards me. The world seemed to shrink down to that single offering. 

The world blurred into streaks of green and brown as we surged through the forest, Theana's hand a vice around mine. Her gaze had locked onto mine for a mere second before we launched ourselves into the fray, a silent command that brokered no argument. 

Branches whipped past us, snagging at our dresses like desperate claws. 

As we darted between trees and leaped over gnarled roots, eerie whispers slithered through the underbrush, wrapping around the pounding of our feet. They were taunts, threaded with malice, promising despair. Growls rumbled in the distance, a chorus of hunger that grew steadily closer with each passing second. 

But I clung to Theana's hand with a tenacity born of shared terror. Even as fear clawed up my throat, her grip was constant.

Every instinct begged me to look back, but Theana's earlier warning echoed in my mind: Don't look at anything. So I kept my gaze fixed on the ground just ahead, trusting her to navigate.

Legs burning and lungs searing, we pressed on through the dense thicket. The forest seemed to stretch on eternally, its end as elusive as the safety we so desperately needed. My muscles ached with the exertion, but it was Theana's laboured breathing that pierced the veil of my focus, reminding me she too was mortal, vulnerable despite her unwavering strength.

"Keep going," she gasped.

Her hand in mine was slick with sweat, her grip tightening with every stride as if to physically pull me forward through time, away from the encroaching peril. I couldn't help but wonder how much longer we could maintain this pace, how much further our bodies could carry us before faltering under the strain.