Chapter Text
Climb a tree.
Break the line.
Hide, let them pass.
Those were the three choices Ralph had, choices that Ralph’s life depends on. The ululations of the hunters echoed through the jungle, bouncing and reverberating between the tree trunks so that the uncanny feeling of being watched leeched onto Ralph’s skin. A bead of sweat ran down his forehead.
If only he had the luxury of thinking!
The shriek of a tropical bird, followed by a piercing cry of a hunter, and adrenaline pumped through Ralph’s exhausted body. And he was running, pouncing into the tangles of creepers and the undergrowth, the dappled shadows of the trees shielded, revealed, shielded Ralph again from the exposure of blinding sunlight. The sky — swallowed by blankets of smoke — brooded over him, suffocating him in its overwhelming warm air.
Ralph began to decelerate as the cries faded into the background, clutching his chest where a fresh, crimson scab had corrupted parts of it. It was throbbing and pulsing with pain, along with dozens more little voices screaming in his head; his cuts stung and his throat felt constricted and sore.
He came across a tight cave in the overgrown tangled bushes, creepers and wild grass, where the shadows ruled and there was no light to jeopardise him. If a savage were to be nearby, it was likely he would pass Ralph. However, he may lie down — for they weren’t careless — peer into the bush but will be met with the darkness that fenced Ralph off from the rest of the world. If worse came to worse, there was slim chance of bursting out of the embrace of shadows, breaking the line and doubling back. He flung himself into the forest floor, fingernails digging into the decaying vegetation and began worming his way into the jaws of the greenery. Thorns and leaves tickled his dirty body as he caught his breath, chest rising and falling with each gulp of desperate air. It was like hiding under a blanket as an innocent child in the middle of the night— afraid, tensed, cowering. The only noises he could hear was his own heavy breathing, the pounding of his heartbeat and the ringing in his ears.
Gaze focusing beyond the murky patches of grass that were scattered with withering leaves, Ralph could see the sea of fire, gnawing and devouring the crowns of trees until they blazed and the charred dirt ground was littered with ash, exposed to light. The polluted sky above him was an opaque miserable grey, drained of colour.
The slight vibration of the ground and the thudding of feet made Ralph jump, sending his heart thumping violently again.
Don’t scream,
Don’t scream,
Don’t scream,
He commanded himself, forcing his roaring muscles still as they pulsed with adrenaline. A fire was burning inside Ralph’s own head, a strong insistence that he should flee, like a panicked animal thrashing and colliding with the walls of his skull.
Then he saw them, a sooty pair of feet — similar size to his — that must belong to a bigun. The butt of a wooden spear was lodged into the dirt, dangerously close to Ralph’s cheek with the swollen eye. His eyes widened like a deer in headlights, fear seizing his throat in an icy grip and tightened.
Run
Run
Run
Flee
Flee
Flee
His body screamed, sending another wave of adrenaline through him. But he stayed motionless as a rock, because he shouldn’t, he wouldn’t.
The pair of feet paused, then Ralph could see knees settling onto the forest floor. Before he knew it, Ralph was face to face with a pair of familiar, haunted eyes.
He sucked in a quick breath of surprise, his whole body tingling with panic, before he realised who they belonged to.
Sam looked equally as shocked as he was; his eyes lit up and glistened. His lip quivered as he gave Ralph a longing, almost pleading look, a tear running down his roughly painted cheeks. The boy was trembling, biting his bottom lip to stop any sobs from escaping. Ralph returned the look — one of relief and gratefulness— staring into Sam’s red eyes as his vision blurred with the gathering tears. He sucked in a breath and choked on the heavy smoke.
A meaningful silence hung between them, before it was pierced by the harsh blunt voice of a hunter.
“What have you found there, Sam?”