Free Resurgence by Kerry Wilkinson Page B

slide the blade of the axe underneath Pietra’s foot until the hardened edge is pressing in the same place her foot was. The way
her foot twitches doesn’t help, but I can’t blame her, considering she is standing on something so dangerous – and the fact she hasn’t moved in over twenty minutes.
    Shuffling backwards, I look at Pietra, who stares back calmly. As it’s something I have been guilty of a lot recently, I can tell she is putting a brave face on everything. She is
terrified.
    ‘I need you to slowly lift your foot,’ I say.
    She shakes her head. ‘I’m not moving until you’re all out of range.’
    ‘Pie . . .’
    Our eyes lock and she nods gently. ‘If things don’t . . . make sure you look after Hart.’
    There is no point in arguing, so I stand, ignoring the twinges and tweaks that wrack my body. ‘I will.’
    I join the others, and even though Hart objects, we half-drag him away until we are out of the gully and past the tree line. We are far enough away to be out of danger but close enough to watch
Pietra twitch as, gradually, she lifts her foot.

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    We cling to each other, expecting an explosion at any moment, but she steps away, stumbling to the ground and shrieking in relief as she clambers away. Hart starts running and
doesn’t stop until he reaches the rim of the gully, where he reaches down, wraps his arms around Pietra’s waist and pulls her free. They roll on the grass, holding each other in a
mixture of giggles and sobs. Jela and Opie stay close with me as we watch them kiss. Somehow, despite everything that has happened, it is wonderful to think they have found each other.
    Eventually they pick themselves up and walk across to us, hand-in-hand, childish smirks on their faces. ‘Sorry,’ Hart says, although he doesn’t seem it.
    None of us minds and Jela speaks for us all. ‘I’d tell you to get a room but that might be a problem out here.’
    We all laugh and each have a moment with Pietra, letting her know that leaving her wasn’t an option.
    The days are beginning to lengthen again but the sun is on its way down as we move back through the woods and find a small clearing. We head around the village instead of towards it. The faint
smell of burning drifts on the breeze but none of us mentions it, not wanting to think about what happened in Martindale. The trees are thicker here, blocking much of the light from above. I
don’t need to ask the question as I can see how exhausted everyone is. My eyelids are desperately trying to close and it is only when we start to unpack our bags that I realise Opie has been
carrying his father’s as well. He catches my eye as he sees me glance towards it but there is so much that doesn’t need to be said.
    This may not be the route I know so perfectly, but these are still my woods and it feels as if I am home as we lay the blankets and snuggle close. I expect Pietra and Hart to find their own
space somewhere, but we have all spent so much time travelling together that this way of huddling for warmth is second nature. I am sandwiched between Opie and Jela, expecting to lie awake with
memories of Martindale and everyone else. Instead, I am asleep as soon as my eyes close.
    * * *
    The next thing I know, I am being shaken awake. I’m confused, grasping at the person’s arms and flailing my legs. My eyes feel reluctant to open but Opie’s
smile slowly drifts into focus. ‘Shh . . .’ he whispers, shifting the lighter part of my hair away from my face.
    My voice is croaky and painful. ‘What time is it?’
    He points to my thinkwatch, the only one of ours which works. ‘Three o’clock.’
    ‘It’s light.’
    ‘That’s because it’s the afternoon.’
    I rub my eyes, trying to understand. ‘I slept for a whole day?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘When did you get up?’
    Opie helps me sit. The others are in a semi-circle on the other side of the clearing. Their bags are packed next to them and they are eating from tins. ‘We’ve been up