Shiver Storm

Amalie couldn't keep up. It didn't matter how fast her legs moved, or much adrenaline shot through her veins, she was simply not as fast as he was. "Kerr! Wait!" Desperation held her with sticky persistence, globs of mud clinging to her shoeless feet.

"No," he shouted back. "We can't stop running!" Even so, his dark eyes sought her out. He turned, pausing for a fraction of a second. "Amalie," he said, voice softening. "I'm sorry, but we have to keep going. You've seen what happens to the people who just give up." 

Her gaze flickered from the sodden ground to the black sky, eyes refusing to meet his. She couldn't bear the idea of disappointing him. Ever since they'd lost their parents, he'd been so patient. He'd done everything he could to ensure their safety - her safety. And now, this 'everything' included running away, it seemed. The only way to survive, Kerr said, was to evade the Hunters as long as they could. After all, that's what you got for being a vision-child.

"I can't..." she gulped, locking her arms around herself. "I can't even see through the rain." She fought her protesting insides, trying to stay upright. If she stopped focusing for even a moment, she was sure she'd fall over. 

Kerr stepped back towards her, now concerned. He brushed her chin with the scabbed back of his hand, forcing her to look at him. "Do you need me to carry you?" he asked.

She shook her head, denying the instinctive desire to say yes. She wanted to be off her feet more than anything in the world, but even her heroic brother was not strong enough to carry her far. Not as far as they needed to go, anyway.

He nodded, looking so incredibly sorry that it tugged at Amalie's chest. "We'll get you another pair of shoes when we reach the next town; I promise."

She shifted her neck to a different angle, trying to compensate for the eight inch difference in their heights. "We don't have money Kerr."

"No, but I'll get some." He turned to her fiercely, taking both her hands in his. "I'll get a job."

"I thought you said we have to keep running." Her glance was finely measured, informing him that she was not as blind as he'd thought. Or hoped, perhaps. There was no way for them to settle down anytime soon. 

He leaned forward, kissing her forehead in the hopes of offering some kind of comfort. "Come on, Amalie. Let's keep going." There were times when she would have fought, tried to make him tell her more, but this wasn't one of them. The reality was, she was only fourteen. He was nineteen, and he knew far more than she did. Whether it was easy or hard or altogether heartbreaking, she had to accept the fact that deliberation was no longer an option. If they wanted to survive - at all - they had to keep going. 

He held her hand after that, pulling her along when she couldn't keep pace. Amalie found it was slightly less taxing this way, their touching skin helping to warm one another, but she still found herself exhausted. "Please," she begged, after another hour had gone by. "We haven't seen them since noon, Kerr." She blinked back miserable tears. "I don't want to keep going." She dropped his hand, sinking to the merciful ground. 

"Amalie..." he whispered, "You know we have to. Come on, please get up. That mud'll get you sick."

"I don't care," she replied, petulant teardrops mixing with the rain on her freckled skin. "If I get sick, then maybe I'll die and I won't have to do this anymore."

He grabbed her shoulders, hoisting her up and pulling her against him. "Don't you dare say that, Amalie." His voice rose, reaching a level that would have alerted any nearby Hunters. Apparently he was just as far from caring about it as she was, he just couldn't be the firs to give in. He shook her, prompting further tears to stream from her eyes. "Amalie!" He snarled at in rage, then promptly let go of her. Simultaneously, they fell back to the ground, deflated.

"Please," he said, infinitely more gently. "You have to understand. I can't even..." He shook his head, uselessly running his fingers through his savaged auburn hair. How long had it been since they'd had a real bath? 

"I'm sorry," she replied pitifully, sniffling as the last of her tears dried up. "I just don't like it when you make me go at night." They looked up together, finding the black, unforgiving state of the sky. There was not one star to be found, at least where they were standing. "Please," she persisted, taking advantage of his quiet moment of thought. "Can't we sleep for just a little while? If they come at us here, we'll hear them and wake up."

"We might not. They have planes." He was reluctant, but she could see he was growing tired as well. "And even so, where would we sleep? We can't just stay underneath a tree trunk like this. There are other things in the woods, you know. Animals." They both sat in silence then, searching desperately for an answer. 

In a strange, contrived form of fate, they got one. 

"Heh'shhuh! Hehshht!"

Amalie gave a little shriek, springing to her feet. "What was that?" She rushed into her brother's arms, looking up at him with terror.

"I - I don't know," he answered honestly, pushing her back so he could regain some of his bearings. "I think..." He furrowed his brow, thinking.

"Hekshuh! Heksht! Ix'kshuh!" 

"Oh," Kerr said, straightening up. His chapped lips swiveled to the left of his jaw, his expression baffled. "I think it was a sneeze," he said softly.

Amalie grabbed his arm with all her strength, clinging to him in fear. "Is it a hunter?" she asked, eyes wide.

"No," he replied softly, taking tentative steps forward. "A Hunter would have heard us and... and come running. This..."

"Huhkshoo!" There was a certain profound volume to this one, almost a note of fear. Amalie tilted her head to the side, her own worries converted to curiosity.

"I think it came from over there," she said, pointing to a crevice in the line of trees. "Look!" Sure enough, a distinct figure lay somewhere there, hidden by the bow of branches. "Well?" she said, responding to Kerr's silence. "Shouldn't we go see who it is?" 

"I don't know that it's a good idea," he replied, shaking his head. "What if someone's really ill? We don't need you getting sick," he said fiercely, clearly alluding to their earlier argument.

But it was too late. Amalie had already edged forward, eyes taut with the utmost fascination. Lacking the proper energy needed to dissuade her, Kerr followed. 

"Look," she repeated, this time in a hushed tone.

Curled in the valley between two trees, lay a boy. He was certainly a teenager, perhaps Kerr's age at best. His clothes were torn and dirtied, though there was something odd about them. It seemed, at one point, that they had been respectable. A suit, even. Torn and splattered with water, caught in the buttons of the once-white shirt, was the remnants of a tie. However, it was the boy's face that caught the most attention. Unlike Kerr and Amalie's pale skin, the boy's face was decidedly pink. His cheeks had a ruddy undertone to them, and his overgrown mop of hair was darker than his new discoverers'. He had elegant, classical features, confirming Kerr's nagging instinct about the clothes. Before he'd gone and fallen asleep in the storming woods, who had this boy been? 

"He does look sick," Amalie said, sympathy oozing into her voice. She was right too. There was something off about the boy's expression. His eyelids kept fluttering from open to shut, making it impossible to tell if he was asleep or not. He kept muttering too, something incoherent about the rain. She watched him with care, recoiling in surprise as his pretty features contracted to his delicate, sloped nose. "Heh.. hehkshuh!" Amalie raised her hands to block the abundance of spray from hitting her face, and turned to her brother. "He issick," she said softly, looking sad. "What do we do Kerr?"

Kerr shook his head, at a loss for what to do. This was one of those times where he wished his parents were around to make the decisions. 



Chapter Two