We kept running without even turning around. I held Derek's hand as tightly as I could. His warmth gave me the strength I needed not to stop fleeing. The roar of our pursuers could be heard and each of us knew that they would catch and kill us if one stumbled over a stone or a branch. Up until that moment I had never felt the fear of death, but suddenly I understood what it meant to experience such fear.
A knife passed dangerously close to my cheek. I felt something warm flowing down there, but I ignored it because the only thing I thought about was to reach the big crevice in front of us, which was slowly but surely beginning to close. Our only way out, our only chance to stay alive.
A loud scream. I didn't want to take my eyes off my goal, but I had to. Just as I turned my head a little, I saw James go down and our enemies get dangerously close to him.
What should I do? The moment I asked myself this question, my answer was already clear to me, after all, it wasn't someone who was helpless, but my little brother. I let go of the warm hand, drew my dagger and neon flashlight, and stopped. With one last apologetic look at Derek, I started running. Away from my chance of rescue, towards my attackers. I ignored the desperate, loud shouts behind me because I had to buy my brother time and so, with all the courage I could muster, I ran straight towards my certain death ...