Gasping for air, his heart beating furiously in his ears, he collapsed against the short, grimy wall. He strained to listen for sounds of his pursuers over his own rapid breathing. He began to make out the sounds of voices, grunting and growling in the distance. It seemed far away, though he knew that the tunnels and doorways would distort the sounds, and they could be only a few feet away. But he couldn’t run any more. Not for a few moments, long enough to get his breath and think. Running away wasn’t working, they knew the area much better than he.
As his breathing calmed and his pulse quietened, he began to notice how cold and wet he was. Sweat ran down his oil-smeared face and to his stubbly chin. His arm hung limp and lifeless, and he began to feel the sting of grazed knees through torn jeans.
It had suddenly gone quiet. He held his breath. Total silence. Not a splash, not a bark or growl. His heart made itself once again heard, as the beating grew strong and fast in his ears, and he fought to ignore the growing waves of nausea flaring in the pit of his stomach…
Whump.
A low rumbling noise preceded a flash of light as a flare lit the sky, and the broken outbuildings around him. Darkness, his only friend, had been taken away.
In the distance now, voices, shouting, and the barking and cries of hungry beasts.
They were coming. Time to run again.
