A shout. Then another. Flashlights cut through the darkness like searching eyes. A gunshot cracked the night apart.

Your foot slipped. Moss, wet and slick, gave way beneath you. You tumbled down the hill, grass and mud smearing across your clothes, your skin.

Another gunshot. He grunted, hand flying to his shoulder. Blood seeped through his white shirt, dark and wet.

He shoved you away, scrambling up, and vanished into the trees.