Brice didn’t move. His knuckles stung, and the muscles in his arm were too tight, but that all felt oh so good.
Tris gurgled, trying to speak. He coughed, doubling over, and Brice heard him pull in a ragged breath. And then he charged.
But Brice was ready. But all he had to do was side-step, and Tris’ swinging fist missed its target. The torch, following through, caught Brice squarely on the shoulder, but when he grunted it was more from shock than from pain.
And Tris was off-balance. It was easy for Brice to sweep a leg out. Tris landed with a squelch and rolled into some of the ferns.
Seeing him on the ground freed Brice’s tongue. “I’m trying to get us out of here,” he said. He took a breath and stepped back. “I’m trying. That’s all I can do.”
Tris grabbed a handful of foliage, and he breathed deeply. Mud coated his jacket, and water poured over his face. He didn’t look at Brice. Then he pulled his legs in, preparing to stand.
All Brice had to do was push, and Tris would be back in the mud. But his anger had already gone.
“I’m trying my best,” he said again, and offered his hand. It shook, and Brice wanted to believe that was the muscles in his arm, still recovering from the punch. “We need to work together.”
Tris looked at Brice’s hand as if he’d never seen it before. Then he nodded, and reached up with his own hand. It was warm, and mud oozed between their fingers, but Brice curled his grip round and pulled back, letting his weight help Tris to his feet.
Neither of them spoke. Brice could think of nothing to say. He felt the rain running down his skin, leaving trickles of coolness behind. Tris must be feeling the same. The techie’s hair hung low over his forehead, plastered to his skin. His mouth opened and closed a couple of times. Brice saw that his neck was red. When Tris gulped, he winced in pain.
And then Tris’ head jerked to one side, and he cursed loudly. He brought a hand up to his temple, and Brice saw blood. Not much, but the rain-water pulled it free.
A shape moved to his right, and Brice instinctively ducked. But the swinging branch grazed his head, pulling his neck back.
Another branch swung, but he was ready now, and he stepped to one side, sweeping an arm round to deflect the blow. His torch-light swam into the trees, and there was a hiss as a shadow backed away.
“They’re attacking us with branches?” A fern slapped towards him, and he let it hit, moisture coating his face. But then another branch slammed into his leg, and he stumbled.
Tris turned, jerking as his body took blows from the branches. But he was laughing.
“This all you got?” He yelled, swatting a branch away with his arm. Brice moved closer to him, ducking as another branch swung his way, and as a fern frond slapped against Tris’ head. He laughed. “Bloody leaves?”
That was when the rock slammed into Tris’ head.
He spun, and an arc of blood flew from his temple. He staggered, colliding with Brice and pushing them both back. Brice brought a foot round, but it slipped away, and he felt his thigh wrench as he toppled.
They fell. Tris landed on Brice, pushing the air from his lungs, and Brice’s head flew back into soft mud. Something stuck his leg, then an arm. He knew it wasn’t branched now. Each hit was like a punch, small and sharp, the pain short-lived but intense.
Brice pushed Tris away, and turned face-down as the pummelling continued. He jerked when the blows caught his spine, and brought his hands up to protect his head. Maybe he yelled out.
Something crashed, sharp and clear, and the light over his shoulder dimmed. He felt the skin on his hand dance, and pin-pricks of pain flared up.
Tris cried out, with no words Brice could make out. The man rose, arms over his head. Then he staggered, spasming as more rocks hit. His arms flailed, and he went down once more. Brice saw his body slip, gravity pulling it down the slope.
Brice pushed himself to his feet, ignoring the rocks that struck him. He launched himself forward, throwing a hand out, even as Tris slid further down the bank. He called out, and Tris looked up, his eyes glowing bright against his mud-smeared face.
The next rock slammed into Brice’s head, and he toppled forward. Tris’ terrified eyes filling his fractured vision. The light burnt Brice’s eyes, so bright it was black. Nausea rose as he fell.
But he didn’t stop moving. The ground slid away, and he couldn’t stop himself following it.
He only just thought to close his mouth before the mud engulfed him.
“You think they believe us?” Keelin asked. “I mean, about those creatures. And Cathal.”
“They have the data now.” Ryann knew she was avoiding the question.
“And you told them about the light. That’s good. And they know where we are. And that we need urgent help.”
Ryann nodded, letting Keelin babble. Her voice ricocheted between excitement and terror.
“Someone in Haven must know about those creatures. They’ve probably already got an antidote. They’re probably preparing a medi-bay right now. Don’t you think, Ryann? They’re going to make it all better. They have to.” Then, quieter, she repeated herself. But it was more of a question now. “They have to.”
Then she looked up, her eyes bright. “When do you think the boys will be back?” she asked.
“You could ask them.”
That brought a smile to Keelin’s face, although Ryann wasn’t sure it was genuine. It might have been a mask. And it frustrated Ryann that she was so unsure about this. She thought her understanding of the pilot was better than this.
<Hey, Tris,
