Nowhere to Run

The noise continues to get closer as Tommy tries to free himself from the vine. His knife is so dull that he's not getting too far very fast. Of course, the constant pricking himself with its thorns doesn't help a bit. Realizing he can't pry the greenery loose yet, he starts cutting through the plant again.

He notices a bush quivering nearby. Please don't let them find me. Oh, please don't let them find me," he begs, moving his knife back and forth at a faster pace. The brush shakes in front of him as the vine starts to give way. I've almost there. The brush rattles louder than it did before. I've got to get out of this. I gotta. He saws the vine at lightning speed.