The ground under my feet is smooth, still squishy from last night's rain. The sky above is glazed sherbet orange, and the insects are starting to come alive all around us.
Cullen walks on my right. He's lanky verging on malnourished, and his green eyes are dull. A wide gash stretches from temple to jaw, and the ugly puffy red skin around the gash says more than words ever could.
On my other side, Sophie. The former prom queen, now reduced to a disease-ridden husk. Her skin is ashy, a direct result of the ticks that cling to her, draining more blood by the day.
They both need serious medical treatment.
Wind swirls across the field, carrying with it the scent of blood.
Cullen whimpers and clings to me. He's ill-equipped for this life.
Fortunately for him, I was raised to be prepared.
A heavy foot slams down across the field. A war cry echos out. Sophie and I crouch and sprint to the ramshackle barn across the field, ducking behind a thin, flimy wall of wooden pallets. She's covering her ears like that'll protect her.
Cullen is behind us, standing still, straight up like a dumb meetkat, oblivious to the danger until two centaurs appear behind him. A heavy bay and a slight pearlino from what I see.
I duck behind the pallets- out of sight, out of danger- and focus on my breathing.
Breathe in.
1
Breathe out.
2
Breathe in.
3
Breathe out.
4
Raucous laughter hits me, underlaced with cries for mercy. I can hear scrabbling as the latest victim of this hell tries their hardest to get away, to get out, to escape. Splinters from the wooden palette behind me embed into the bare, vulnerable skin of my neck.
I look at Sophie. She's not taking the sound well.
When we first met back in middle school, it was impossible to think of her as pathetic. Now, it is her constant state of being.
Her cheeks are blotchy, eyes puffy and red. Snot is running over her cracked lips. I can see dried blood from where an earring was torn out three days ago.
Crunch.
The screaming stops.
A female voice, whispery and sultry, reaches to me across the crisp breeze.
" Well.. Damascus.. that was a shame! We could've taken it as a pet!"
Another voice. Growly, heavy, burning my ears like a bed of blistering coals.
" What? It would've kept screaming."
I hear a meaty, heavy thud as the great beast drops to his knees.
" You are right Rapture." A pause.
The one he calls Rapture laughs.
" Of course I am!"
Damascus grumbles low in his throat.
" There were three of them. Where did the other ones go?"
Sophie's mouth drops open, her blistered tongue hanging just out of her mouth. I grab her and cover her mouth before she can scream. If they find us, then we'll be dead. Just like Cullen.
Cullen wasn't fast enough.
Rapture makes an inquisitive noise, like a horse's whicker.
" Damascus, Let's go back to the herd. The sun is setting! We can catch the humans tomorrow."
Damascus stomps one heavy hoof.
" Alright..."
As they retreat, Sophie retches onto my hand.
" shhh.." I hush her quickly.
She looks at me, something indescribable in her eyes.
" Price... what was that?"
I shrug.
" They broke his spine. Or his skull. We need to keep moving."
Sophie smacks me across the face. It doesn't feel like a hard slap at all. Just one to alert me to something.
" We just lost my brother's best friend!" She hisses.
" How can you be so callous?"
" I was raised to be this way." I say, shushing her before she can argue.
" We don't know how many of those there are, so shut up."
We creep into the barn. Step by step, inch by painstaking inch.
The thing about survival situations is that the senses always go on high alert after a nasty shock of adrenaline. The faintest shadow is a monster. A tiny noise is an army. A whiff of earth becomes a landslide.
We creep through the barn. Sophie still wears shoes, and the noise! Ah, the forsaken noise! Every step she takes seems to be thunderous! I gave up wearing shoes long ago.

We have just passed the stall when the hairs on my neck raise.
We're being watched.
I sweep the barn with my eyes, not moving a muscle until I see our nervous onlooker.
This centaur looks like a younger version of Damascus, heavy, tanned, and a blotchy bay coat.
" Are you ok?" He whispers.
I stare at him and keep moving. My pulse starts racing.
He walks towards me and Sophie.
" I'm Angelo. Do you need help?"
Sophie whimpers.
Angelo moves past me. His withers are higher than I am.
I try to keep my own fear under control.
The truth is... things with hooves have always terrified me.
Angelo frets over Sophie, giving me time to think.
Should I escape and leave Sophie?
Like I left Cullen?
The thought catches me off guard.
I wasn't responsible for Cullen's death!

Was I..?