Sven ran along a path that wound its way around the trees all the while climbing steeply up the mountain. He moved quickly knowing that death could be following. Soon he bolted out of the trees and onto bare stretch of land, which extended about a half a mile and then directly ahead was a copse of trees and just beyond that a vertical cliff. As he came to a stop he could hear two men below yelling at each other. He didn’t care. He was scared and wanted to get home. He started out at an easy pace up the rocky incline. His father had taught him that if you move too fast on this kind of terrain, it would make the rocks slide under foot, which in turn made the trek that much harder and in the long run slower as it oftentimes caused a person to fall down.
When he got to the copse of trees he entered a few feet in, turned around, and sat down to rest while watching to see if anyone was following. He looked off to the left. He knew these mountains like he knew his mama's face (and his late papa's). If he were to walk to the left, straight as a phasor bolt, for three quarters of a mile, he would come to the path that would lead him home or to any of the other villages.
But he knew he wouldn't be going home. He had to go to the home of the Unifier—Everette, the man who would know what to do about this horrific even.
After a few minutes Sven was beginning to think no one was coming, but as he stood up the man called ‘Priskin’ bolted from the cover of the forest below. His feet started pumping rapidly as he attempted to go quickly up the mountain, but the rocks started sliding and slowed his progress. Priskin almost fell on his face several times before Sven decided he had seen enough.
He made his way through the trees to the other side of the small forest and started toward the cliff. He knew it would be foolish to make his way to the path. The man being twice his size would catch him before he could make it to the nearest village.
The sun was just above the horizon, casting long shadows, and bringing darkness along this side of the mountain. Without much trouble Sven found what he was looking for—a vertical crevice in the cliff. It extended several hundred feet straight up until it ended in the plateau at the top.
The crack was big enough for him to slide through, but not big enough for a grown man.
He put the phasor in his right hand and side stepped with the left side of his body into the crack, and continued in this manner for fifteen yards, until the rocks under his feet began to incline steeply. He climbed in a side step fashion for another ten yards up the nearly vertical crevice, and then came to a halt. He knew Priskin could never reach him here, but if Priskin took a couple of shots with his phasor at about a twenty-degree angle he could possibly hit Sven. So, Sven waited and listened.
After a few minutes he heard Priskin calling out. "Where are you, boy? I just want to talk to you."
A few moments later Priskin called out again. "Are you in here?" His voice echoed through the crack. Priskin aimed his phasor into the dark and fired, but it was too low.
Sven knew he was in a bad situation. He could go further up, in fact he could go all the way to the top, but Priskin would hear him, which would make it easier to locate the correct angle and fire.
Sven aimed his phasor at what he guessed to be four feet from the bottom of the crack and fired.
He heard a thud and then something that sounded like a phasor clattering on the rocks. It lasted for a few seconds and then stopped.
He waited, listening. If Priskin was pretending, he could easily shoot Sven when he came into sight. On the other hand Sven couldn't wait here all night. It was starting to get cold and his mountain coat was lying on a boulder near the pit.
So, he continued to listen as he made his way down the crack toward the opening and toward what he was hoping would be a dead man. His dad had talked often about being brave; especially necessary for survival in the mountains, and now was one of those times. He was either going to die or he wasn't.
As he stepped out of the crack he saw the man lying on the rocks - head sloping down and face up. There was a hole where the phasor bolt had gone through the left eye, through his brain, and out the back of his head.
Sven stood staring at the man for short while. Finally the cold, which was getting more intense with the passage of every second, reminded him he had to go to the villages and go quickly.