Brianne was several yards back, but still followed. I couldn’t slow down. We had to make it, had to get far enough away somewhere and hide, or just run and run until the sun was high enough overhead that we knew we were safe.
The woods were shadowy, the crescent moon doing little to illuminate our path. We crashed through the underbrush, not caring what sort of trail we left as we jumped over logs and climbed the first hill. The house gleamed in the night, the windows brightly lit, and the sounds of laughter and music floating along the chilled air. They partied as we ran, enjoying themselves before sinking their claws into the three of us and ripping us apart.
We crested the hill and started down the other side, the house finally out of view. Knowing that they couldn’t see me anymore gave me the slightest bit of comfort, but we had to keep moving and put as much distance between them and us as possible.
Gavin stopped and leaned against a tree as we waited for Brianne to catch up.
“Do you think we can hide?” I asked and peered up into the trees.
Gavin shook his head. “Not in the trees. No cover without leaves. We’d be sitting ducks.”
Brianne was breathing hard already, and her cheeks burned a bright pink from the frigid air. My cable-knit sweater wouldn’t keep her warm for long, especially not when the wind soughed through the trees as it did. My legs were cold above my boots, and hers must have been freezing. She wore only tennis shoes. I dug in my jacket pockets, ignoring the pain in my forearm, and found my gloves and the knit hat I’d stuffed inside.
“Here.” I handed Brianne the hat and the gloves.
Her eyes opened wide. “Th-thank you.”
“We aren’t competing, Brianne. I promise. Red lied to you.”
She took the hat and pulled it down over her blonde locks, which shined almost white in the moonlight. “I know. I don’t know why I said all that. All he does is lie to me and, and…other things.” She looked away as she pulled on the gloves.
“It’s okay. This isn’t easy.” I slipped my chilled fingers inside my boot and drew out my blade before stuffing it into my pocket. “But we’ve got to stick together and keep moving. Can you do that?”
“Yes. I think I can.”
“Good.”
“Take mine.” Gavin drew some leather gloves from his coat pockets and handed them to me.
“No, I’m good. I can just stick my hands in my pockets when they get cold. You wear them.”
He shook his head and peered down at me. “I can do the same. Go ahead and take them. At least I’m wearing pants. This will make us even.”
He wasn’t fooling me. The white linen pajama bottoms offered him no more protection from the piercing wind than my bare legs had, but I took the gloves to cut off any more argument. We needed to get moving.
“I’m ready. Let’s go.” I pulled the too-large gloves on and began picking my way down the slope. It was slow-going because the leaves were covered with a slick of frost, were wet underneath, and the terrain was uneven. It quickly became clear my boots were made more for looks than use, with each step turning into a balancing act.
Once we’d reached the bottom where a small stream ran, we paused.
“Up and over the next ridge, or should we break off to the right and follow the water?” I didn’t want to keep moving in a straight line, but I also wanted to get as far from the party as possible.
“Let’s follow the stream and then cut up the next hollow we come to.” Gavin said.
Brianne nodded, her teeth chattering.
We stayed along the water’s path, moving as quickly as we could with Brianne lagging behind. Large stone boulders dotted the landscape, and I wondered if we could hide against one of them. But it was still too out in the open. They would find us in no time. And they would expect us to hunker down, to try and wait them out. That’s why we had to keep moving. We slogged through the dead leaves and cracking branches, grunting with the effort of climbing over trunks or boulders. The woods were silent except for our exertions and the inconsistent wind which whistled and pushed easily through the naked branches, chilling the sweat on our skin.
Gavin and I surged ahead, urging Brianne to step where we did to avoid any mishaps. We followed the stream for maybe a half mile before a long hollow opened up to our left. I was sweaty and cold, perspiration rolling down my back, though I didn’t dare take my jacket off.
“Brianne, keep up,” I called as we started to climb up the hollow.