Flee (Team Crafted Fanfiction) -Sequel to Run.

Chapter 31- Into The Darkness

Adam's POV

I grin as for the third time, Mitch tackles Jerome and Olivia jumps on them. Quentin and Ryan sat several feet away from the leaves, kneeling on the ground and trying to start a fire. Jason and Ty were trying to convince Ian to climb a tree and jump into the pile, to no avail.

The sky had turned a deep, rosy red in the last half hour. A light breeze ruffles my hair and clothes, slightly chilly but no unbearable, and I sigh contently. Could get used to this.

The sun sinks lower and lower, and there's a cry of triumph from behind me. I peer down through the branches from my tree and see Ryan standing over a small fire. Quentin whoops and adds more branches.

Soon, firelight flickers through the dark woods. The others had abandoned their fun to sit around it, discussing some sort of guard duty.

"Hey, Adam?"

I turn around and see Ian staring up at me. "Yeah?"

"You plan on coming down anytime soon?" He asks, squinting up at me.

I shake my head. "Nope."

"Well, that takes care of guard duty." He sits down. Mitch immediately leans over and whispers something to him, but Ian waves him off and Mitch settles back down with a discontented look on his face. Jason starts singing some campfire song, and they all join in. I look away.

Am I ever going to get back to that life? Hell, am I gonna survive? Well, according to Felix, I'm not doing so well on that. Insane.....

I snort. Insane. Sure, why not.

I lean back against the tree and pull out my knife. Rubbing the blade in circles on my shirt, my eyes slowly scan the area. No signs of movement, no artificially placed objects, no odd sounds or smells. I'd say we're clear. My attention returns to my knife, which I rub until its spotless.

Should I throw it near Ryan? It would give him a scare. It'd be funny if he freaked out.

I glance down. Ryan is curled up a few feet away, breathing deep and even. Awww. He's asleep.

Everyone was asleep, which is odd because I could have sworn they were all awake and laughing a minute ago. Mitch and Jerome lay near each other, with Olivia to the left of Mitch. Everyone else is scattered about the small clearing around the fire. Carefully, I slide down from my perch and crouch next to the fire. Grabbing a nearby stick, I stoke it. Then I chuck the stick in and gather a few more for later.

A chill creeps up my back and I whirl around. Gazing into the darkness, I made out something I didn't see before from far up in my tree.

As I get closer to it, the gnawing worry in my stomach grows. I stop at the trunk of a tree not too far from mine, and run my hand over the trunk. A deliberate deep cut had been placed to it, at about eye level. Grabbing my knife, I jam it into the tree right next to the mark and pull it out. Both marks are roughly the same shape and size, but just slightly different enough to be obvious.

Someone threw a knife at this tree, from a fair distance away. Stepping back, I kick at some of the leaves on the ground. They come up easily.

Idiot. I am an idiot. The leaves were wet side up. Human hands placed them.

Scraping them away, I reveal several scuffs in the dirt. More pushing and digging reveals actual footprints.

Someone has been through here. Recently. A lot of people. In a hurry. Having knives thrown at them?

The pieces click together, and I my hands dig into the dirt.

"We went backwards!" I groan.

Unknowing where the military base was, we had just ran from it. Back the way we had came. Which meant we were back near the house and the Cavets. A large group of people, though?

Tunnel People.

The Cavets chased the tunnel people out.

I swear quietly. That's it. That's it. The Cavets need to stop. Too long, too far, too dangerous. Countless tunnel people could've been slaughtered before they escaped. Including my old girlfriend.

I twitch impassively and I jam my knife back into my belt.

We need more people to fight. The tunnel people are gone, and they weren't a match for the Cavets. They could survive, but not fight. We needed allies with guns and trained fighters.

A thought crosses my mind, still up front and bright in my memory.

"I hope we meet again." Felix had said. He wanted to help us. He hates the Cavets. He wants revenge. And I could possible die.

I could die, or we could all be slaughtered or live in fear forever.

Not an option.

With a backwards glance towards the sleeping Team, I slip quietly through the bushes and back into the darkness of the woods. My hand grips tightly around my knife and I take quiet, measured footsteps. No one attacks me. No zombies stumble from the darkness. As I walk, I begin to understand how idiotic I'm being.

The plan? Walk back to the base. Somehow find Felix. Somehow convince him to fight with us. He convinces everyone else to fight with us. We go back and fight the Cavets. We win. Yay.

How many times could I die?

Walking up to the front gate, for starters. And about a million other times.

I still walk on, determined. The Cavets will die, even if I have to rip them down by myself.