Chapter 15: Chapter 15- Chaos At The Festival

AMILYN

 

Just my luck. My first official day as a pinili and we’re…wait, what IS happening?

All I know is that something is falling, said something hurts, and we’re running for makers know where from makers know what. Honestly, I’m just trailing after Mary (or the blur of light brown hair I assume to be Mary), hoping I don’t get crushed to death, stomped on, run over, or otherwise impaled as we go.

I take one glance at the sky. It’s still clear, now light blue with specs of white here and there. I don’t see any planes that could drop nukes at us, or spaceships that could abduct us. Aside from some of the falling things here and there, there’s no sign of trouble. So back to my original question. WHAT IN THE WORLD IS GOING ON?

Mary and I run as fast as our feet could take us. We’re not too far from the river, but there’s no hope of being rescued there. I see no form of shelter nearby. I’m not really sure where exactly we’re running to, but right now being mobile seems like a better idea than sitting ducks and waiting for unknown projectiles to hit us.

The chaos started a good thirty minutes after we arrived, so there’s already a decent number of pinili on the surface when it all began. Everyone is running in all directions, seeking shelter from the attack.

“Agaaaay! Ay yawa kaw!” I hear Mary scream as she run.

I can only assume she was hit.

I, as well, apparently make for good target for the falling projectiles. As I run, I feel smaller stone-like things graze me, and some larger ones hitting me where it hurts the most. Still, I keep running. In my mind, I know for sure staying still will only make things worse.

Then of course, shit does gets worse.

My foot hits a protruding rock, causing me to stumble and lose my balance. I fall to the ground face first, kissing the brown earth as I go.

I immediately try to get back up, struggling on my feet, only to fall back down as pain shoots up from my ankles. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, of all well-timed cliches to choose from, I chose the one that would best suit my situation, getting a sprained ankle while on the run from unknown projectiles.

“Amilyn!” I hear Mary scream.

She’s noticed my predicament and is now running back toward me.

“Ahh!” I scream out as a decent-sized one hits my back, right where the spine is.

I arch back in pain, swallowing another yelp.

Mary runs toward me, reaching my side in a matter of seconds.

“What’s wrong? Are you hurt? Can you still run?” she asks as she helps me get up.

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“Ouch!” another one falls right on top of my head.

But I don’t think Mary is in a much better situation. There’s a big cash across her forehead, bleeding and almost covering her left eye.

“You should go. It won’t do good for the both of us to stay here,” I say, trying to sound brave while hiding the shaking in my voice.

My ankle hurts like crazy, my spine just took a hit, and I’m sore all over. But like I said, one victim is better than two victims.

“No way! We’re both getting out of here. Now get up so we can walk. I don’t think this storm is gonna wait for us to recover,” Mary determinedly replies, grabbing me by the waist.

Honestly, I don’t even need to be told twice. I struggle to to feet, careful not to put too much weight on my bad ankle.

All around us, people are still running, screaming in various languages, panicking in all fronts.

“Let’s go. Just one step at a time. That’s it,” Mary encourages as we engage in the most awkward three-legged race of all time.

More and more of the stones hit us, causing a chorus of grimaces and ouches. Mary must be having a hard time taking on most of my weight, but she doesn’t complain. Onward we go, despite being battered by the falling stones on every front.

Then we hear it. A gut-wrenching scream piercing the air. It’s that kind of scream, you know, the one filled with horror, the one filled with fear, the one anyone would recognize as a scream of desperation.

It doesn’t take too long for me to find the source of the scream. Not too far from us, a woman is lying on the ground, her entire body covered in blood. Another girl is sitting beside her, desperately trying to patch up her open would. But it’s no use.

Even from here I can see the gravity of the situation. The victim is heaving, obviously laboring with every breath she takes. There’s an open wound on her throat, which is gushing out blood. I can see her try to breath, but all she can manage to do is cough up more blood. She;s visibly trembling, choking. Beside her is a white boulder the size of a human head, with streaks of blood on it.

Mary and I freeze on the spot, trying to digest the scene before us.

She’s dying, I realize as I look, horror aptly striking me right in the face. She’ll run out of blood, or she’ll lose the ability to breath, or she’ll drown in her own blood. Whatever the cause may be, one thing is profoundly obvious to all of us. She’s dying.

All around us, ice, yes, I now realize that it’s ice that’s falling from the sky, ice of all sizes and shapes are still falling. But it doesn’t matter, at least, not to us onlookers. What matters now is the woman whose neck is bleeding out.

That’s when the heavens open and light floods the field.

 

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