I try not to think about worst case scenarios as we stumble our way down the mountain. I've calculated in my head that the majority of them will stay until the bodies are well burnt -- with a few leaving once things are underway. If we can cross into the woods before that first group sets out we should be able to make it.
"I need to know your name," I tell her as we start across the open field. The sun is now high above us casting long shadows that make us more visible to the naked eye from the top of the mountain.
"Maria," she tells me as we trudge forward through the pain and exhaustion. We don't have the option of slowing down. Not if we want to survive this.
"Maria, do you remember seeing a car at our camp?" I ask her as we hustle along. She tells me 'no' and then I remember that it is still at Jim's -- which adds to our time as his place is on the outskirts of camp opposite from where we are approaching.
"Ok, I had a car. If none of you came across it then it should still be in working order. We just have to get to it. When we get back to camp, I'm going to leave you by the main road near the hospital and run and get it. Are you ok with that?"
She tells me she is and then I see her wince.
"It won't be much longer now," I tell her as tears start to roll down her cheeks. I can't tell if it's her leg or possible pre-labour; but I know that she is really hurting.
"Try and think of something other than this place," I say to her. "That's what I do. Your body will move automatically -- so take yourself out of it. I'll make sure we keep moving." I coax, but a few steps later she drops to her knees using the full force of her weight.
"I can't," she tells me as she tries to suppress her agony.
"Maria, come on." I say frantically and look to the top of the mountain. A large cloud of smoke now rises from it; meaning the fire is well underway. Any second now a scout could turn the corner and see us. I crouch down and look her straight in the eye.
At first I look pleadingly, but then sheer panic sets in and I react.
"Get up!" I yell at her. I yank her by her hair and pull her to her feet. The pain I'm causing her is brutal; and she has no choice but to rise. I force her arm over my shoulder once again and continue to drag her along as we cross the field.
"Don't do this." I yell at her as she resists, causing us to slow down our pace to a dangerous walk.
"I don't want to do this anymore," she tells me as she quivers holding her belly. She is on the verge of a nervous breakdown.
And so, I turn and slap her across the face.
"You can have your pity party when we're in the car. Not now. You're not doing this to me now. I don't care what is going on in your head -- you are going to help us get out of here. If not for me; then do it for your baby. Ok?"
She stands there for a moment deciding between a mental breakdown or the very real probability of an escape. I hold my breath. Seconds feel like centuries, and just as I'm about to lose any hope, she opens her mouth -- wipes away her tears and says, "I'm sorry."
And so, through her pain and suffering she forces herself to take one step after the other. I push her to move faster than she is capable of; and she does her best to keep up. She cries in silence now. Tears steadily streaming down both cheeks -- but she is persistent and we reach the forest without anyone spotting us.
From here we are only a short distance from the edge of camp and the hospital. The end is in sight.
"You're doing amazing," I tell her and continue forward not slowing our pace. Without a clear view of the mountain I have no idea how far behind us the others might be. But I know that they're coming. The wind warns me in whispers as it passes my ear. It tells me that we must keep moving. That they are right behind us, and that any stumble or stall could result in our death.
And as we make our way through the forest, I keep my focus on getting to my car as fast as I can. I plan out in my mind where rations might be near the tavern and, more than anything, I hope that fate chooses to take pity on us with the others. But before I can plead to her Maria suddenly falls to the ground and begins to convulse.
And that's when, for the first time, I hear the yells of the others who are now crossing the field.
