"Riders incoming!" Came a cry from the far side of the tavern, people panic and run in different directions, some hide, some try to run. He knew none will make it, the riders were Flarers.

He nodded to Crosby,  and they got up and sprint up the stairs, they head up and enter their room. Being a thief, Jordan always leave an escape route. The room was positioned on the opposite side of the tavern, so no one would see them when they exited the tavern by window. They climbed onto the roof and peered down at the riders. Jordan was right, the riders were indeed Flarers. He did a head count.

"Ten riders, not too many." Jordan informed Crosby.

He snorted, "If they knew you were here, there would be hundreds, you're the most wanted man in the country, even some of people in the tavern were itching to get the reward on your head."

The tavern they were in was called the Black Claw, it was on the outskirts of Gurila, too close to the border for his liking, but he needed information. The Black Claw was the information central for thiefs, outlaws and sometimes; murderers. 

They sneaked across the roof towards the stables, from there they would ride horses until they could steal a decent car. Jordan dropped down onto the stables roof, he scouted the walls before swinging down into an open window. Crosby followed, he left in the opposite directions of the horses. He had his job, Jordan had his.

They've already done it before, Crosby was the fighter, and he was not. So he would be the one who got the horses while Crosby held them off. Jordan walked into the stables full of horses, a few other people were in here, scrambling for their steeds, the Flarers must be close. Jordan chose a chocolate brown stallion for Crosby, and a grey for himself. The grey horse was smaller, perfect for a the 17 year old he was. 

Jordan heard three gunshots and sees Crosby come running into the stables. Crosby sees the horses and hopped on to his, Jordan got on the other. He whipped the reins and tapped his heels and the horse galloped out the stables door. He saw ten dark stallions standing in front of the tavern.

 Crosby cocked his gun. "We were too slow, I had to shoot two of them. They'll know we were here, no one would dare shoot a flarer, not even the bravest of men. In addition, one of them saw me and escaped."

Jordan sighed, "So, did you get the information?"

"Nothing. The one person who told me he knew where to find her, also told me that he would rather die a thousand time than tell me."

"Sounds like a nice guy."

Crosby frowned, "He wasn't nice."

"That was a joke," Jordan explained.

"It was?"

"Yes it was."

"Oh."

He sighed again, sometimes Crosby could be a boring companion. That was most often the case. "I need some new friends..." Jordan muttered.

"What was that?" 

"Nothing!" Jordan said quickly, not realizing he had spoken aloud.

Crosby frowned, but didn't reply. They rode on in silence. Jordan looked back to see the town of Turumba recede into the distance. Behind the town he could see the border, a mountain range separating the countries of Gurila and Gastro. Flarers patrolled the mountains, preventing him from escaping the country.

Jordan sees movement behind them, three horses pursue them through the plains surrounding the town. They wouldn't reach the forests of Oddel for another twenty minutes, this would be close.

The Flarers horses started to gain ground, they were bred for speed and endurance, there were no finer horses in the country. Of course most Flarers chased by car, but in a remote town such as Turumba, there would be no cars. They continue for another few minutes, Jordan occasionally checking over his shoulder at the oncoming riders. A loud bang makes him glance again, the riders were still a kilometre back, but one had pulled out a long ranged riffle.

The bullet wouldn't reach him, but the fact that they were trying meant they didn't have much longer. "Crosby," Jordan said, "do you still have the swape?"

"No, I stashed it at the edge of the forest where we entered the plains," he indicated the patch of forestry rapidly approaching.

He chewed his lip, this was going to be close. Another bang made him jump in his saddle, another bullet, much closer this time. Once they were in the forests of Oddel they would be safe, the forestry would offer plenty of cover and places to hide. From there they could go to the next place on his list to find Margerie, but first he would have to survive this.

They continued on in silence, no gunshots, just the galloping of horses, he could almost believe they weren't being chased... Too quiet...

A large bang and Jordan suddenly is launched from his saddle, he kicked free from the saddle and hits the grassy plain hard. The grass gives no soft landing as he bounces twice before landing awkwardly on his leg. The horse falls to the ground silent, blood flowing freely from the bullet wound in its back, right behind the saddle from where he sat.

He sees the riders not two hundred meters away, Crosby sees Jordan fall but continues towards the forest three hundred meters farther, so close... He thinks to himself.

He panics. So this is what it feels like to have approaching death, with no hope to escape it. He knew Crosby wasn't abandoning him, he was hoping to reach the forest and gun down the Flarers with the swape in an attempt to save him. He wouldn't be fast enough.

The blood from the horse not one meter away started to pool, a small stream comes towards him,  wetting his pants. Thats what he needed! He crawls on the ground toward the pool, desperate to not be seen moving by the oncoming Flarers, he lied down belly up in the pool, he closed his eyes and when the hoof beats stopped , he held his breath and prayed.

Footsteps approach Jordan, "Is he dead?" Someone calls from the horses.

The man who was inspecting him replies, "Sure looks like it, no breathing or movement, and there sure is tons of blood."

A third voice, a female this time. "Why don't you check for a heartbeat?"

"He's covered in blood, it'll get all over me," replies the man closest.

Jordan starts to panic again, he could hardly hold his breath any longer, his lungs burned and throat began to hurt.

The women sighs, "if you want something, you gotta do it yourself!" I hear her jump from her horse and walk towards me.

She stops next to him. "Hmmm, somethings seems off..." She muses.

Thats when Jordan couldn't hold his breath any longer, it was as if he burst to life in front of them, his eyes fly open and he gasped for breath, swallowing mouthfuls of air. He sees the women fall down, cursing. The man screamed in terror, if he hadn't scared them, he would be dead.

The man pulls out a pistol and quickly levels it at Jordan. He suddenly is lifted off his feet, he gurgles a scream and falls to the ground a meter away, silent. The women, who also is holding a pistol, drops to the ground, her eyes glazed. The last man, jumps from the saddle of his horse, he ducks behind it for cover.

Suddenly blood squirts from the horses neck, it stumbles for a meter than collapses. Dead. With the horse gone, the man turns and jumps to the ground. He lands unmoving. A bullet hitting the back of his skull mid air. The sniper was skilled. The sniper was Crosby.

Jordan pushes himself up, feeling cold and miserable. He watches the blood flow from the three bodies, almost trancelike. He snaps out of it when Crosby comes near. 

"Thanks."

"No problem."

Jordan shuffles over to the horses and leads two of them over to Crosby who was riding back.  "I guess we should take these, they're better than ours."

"Good idea, but make sure there aren't any things that could be used to track us." Crosby replied.

It took five minutes. "Finally!" Jordan exclaimed, "A digital watch, with GPS. No doubt also used to track and see where the Flarers were."

"Where was it?" Crosby inquired.

"In the bag," motioning to the small bag at the side of the horse, nearly invisible next to the saddle bag. Half of it covered at the same time. Crosby reached in and pulled out an identical watch. Perfect!

"Lets keep moving," Crosby hopped on to the horse.

Jordan did too and whipped the reins. The horse followed Crosby towards the forest, when they got there, Crosby hopped off and picked up a long gun. The swape. He strapped it onto his back and got back on. Then they continued on into the forest. The forest began to darken as night came. 

"I'll get some food, hopefully some deer are nearby." Crosby told him.

"Ok, I'll set up camp here." Jordan replied.

Crosby rode out into the forest as Jordan trotted in for a while before reaching a clearing. He then took a change of clothes and got out of his blood soaked shirt and and pants, he then searched for some wood, and set a fire alight using matches. He sighed and pulled out a sleeping bag, and lied down next to the fire. Crosby returned a few minutes later, a dead deer dropped over the back of the horse.

Without a word, he hung it over the fire using sticks and pulled out his own sleeping bag. They sat there silently, watching the deer cook. Eventually Crosby takes it down and they eat some of it, the rest they stow in a bag that they hang from a tree about twenty meters away, to avoid attracting predators.

Jordan settled down and tried to sleep, and the last words Jordan hears are, "I'll take first watch."

Jordan is suddenly shaken awake, Crosby stands over him. "Your turn for watch."

He groans and gets up, he walks over to a large stump and climbs on top of it for a greater view. Crosby lies down and is about to go to sleep.

"Wake me up at 3:00."

Then Jordan hears him start to gently snore. He gets down from the stump and leans against it for comfort. He lies there and listens to the sounds of nature- and snoring. Jordan hears the wind and the the trees blowing against it. Almost musically. 

He suddenly thinks he sees something and whips out his Glock pistol. It was a shadow. Suddenly feeling very self conscious, he eyes the shadows all around, they seem to take shapes and move when he's not looking. He shuts his eyes and tries to ignore them.

He relaxes and opens his eyes. The shadows are normal again, he leans back against the tree stump and keeps an ear out for invaders. A large crack brings his attention quickly, he turns to see a bear underneath the sac full of deer meat. Angered by it being out of reach, it runs away.

It looked like the night would be uneventful...