Haven panted uncontrollably. The second she had thrown herself over the hill was the second she let every muscle relax. She let herself roll halfway down the hill, and watched as a few of the other slaves came tumbling after. They all laid there, sprawling over the hill, tired to the point of temporary paralysis.
This is too much. Haven thought to herself. It was all too much to bear...almost. Haven felt like sleeping, but her aching leg muscles were in so much pain she could only lay wide-eyed and stare at the sky. Haven felt like screaming with all her frustration, but did not want to confuse any of her fellow slaves.
"We can't stay here long." Haven almost thought she had only imagined Santiara's voice nearby. The girl's voice echoed in Haven's ears and sounded eerily strange in the silence that had enveloped Haven's senses. Just as Santiara had spoken, a loud cry rang out over the hilltop.
"We've got to go," Haven heavily breathed out the words, the words everyone feared to hear one more time and still acknowledged as the only thing to do. "Now."
No one but Haven made an immediate move to leave. Haven felt as though she was the most run-down of all the slaves, and still she knew that every other slave in the group wanted freedom - and they wouldn't get it by sitting around catching their breath. Haven had the distinct urge to discard her torn sandals, but knew that would be foolish, and only a sign to the hunters of which way they had gone.
"Get up!" Haven cried wearily. Fionel jumped up, and the other slaves followed her example. Everyone followed Fionel's example. It was as if there had been some silent unanimous vote that she be the role model of the hunted slaves. "Lets go!"
[ May 25, 2003: Message edited by: Aylwen Dreamsong ]
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...Come down now, they'll say. But everything looks perfect from far away - Come down now! But we'll stay.
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