Chapter Fifteen:

As James narrowly dodged the bullets, he burst out into the back garden, the chaos unfolding in a split second. His heart raced as he scanned the small space for a place to hide. 

The garden was modest, bordered on each side by a four-foot wooden fence. In the corner stood a small garden shed, its peeling paint adding to the sense of urgency. In the center, an outdoor table surrounded by chairs sat abandoned, a reminder of calmer days now overshadowed by fear.

His gaze darted to the shed, a potential hiding spot, but he quickly dismissed it; it was likely the first place the soldiers would search. Instead, he focused on the back fence, knowing he had to move fast. In a flash, he rushed over to one of the chairs surrounding the table, dragging it closer to the fence. 

With a determined push, he stepped onto the chair, using it as leverage to hoist himself over the fence and into the backyard of the neighboring house. The adrenaline coursed through him as he landed silently, praying he could stay one step ahead of the soldiers pursuing him.

Glancing up at his new surroundings, he saw the open back door of the property he was now in the garden of. With a surge of adrenaline, he dashed towards the door, the sound of gunfire echoing behind him. As he stepped inside, a volley of impacts scattered around the doorway.

The soldier in the room, where Emma and Elizabeth were hiding, watched as his shots missed his target. Frustration evident on his face, he walked over to the shattered window, the glass shattered from his burst of fire. Peering down into the garden of the house, he saw his three comrades cautiously approaching the shed, their rifles at the ready.

"Hey!" he shouted down to them, causing the three soldiers to look up at him. "The runner ran into the house," he pointed to the neighboring building. The soldiers quickly shifted their focus to the house before nodding in acknowledgment and rushing through the wooden fence.

The soldier left the bedroom and hurried towards the back garden. Meanwhile, Elizabeth, who had been hiding in the closet during the gunfire, felt her heart racing. However, upon hearing the soldier's announcement and his departure, a wave of relief washed over her. She waited for another 30 minutes before cautiously emerging from her hiding spot.

Elizabeth decided to check up on Emma, knowing that the ordeal must have been incredibly frightening for her. 

"Emma, sweetie, are you okay?" Elizabeth said gently as she lifted the lid and blankets that were covering Emma. As she pulled back the covers, she could see Emma visibly shaking.

"Oh, Emma, come here, sweetie," Elizabeth said, gathering Emma into her arms for a comforting hug. "Everything's okay now, don't worry, they're gone," she reassured Emma, who was quietly crying in her arms.

Elizabeth lifted Emma out of the box and set her down in front of her, the young girl still crying. Seeing Emma's distress, Elizabeth, with a bit of difficulty due to her pregnancy, knelt down to Emma's height. Emma met her gaze, tears streaming down her cheeks. Elizabeth gently wiped away the tears.

"Don't worry, they're gone now. You must have been so scared," Elizabeth said softly, continuing to comfort Emma. Emma nodded in response, and Elizabeth pulled her into a warm hug. After a few moments, they separated, and Elizabeth looked into Emma's eyes, contemplating their next move. She made the decision to stay hidden in the house in case James returned. With that in mind, she stood up, wincing slightly in pain.

"We're going to stay hidden here until James comes back, okay?" Elizabeth said, to which Emma nodded in agreement. Not wanting to return Emma to the storage box, Elizabeth took her hand and led her to the closet.

"It's going to be a tight fit, but we can both hide in here," she explained as they settled into the closet. It was cramped, but they managed to squeeze in together. The darkness enveloped them, with only a sliver of light seeping through the gap in the door.

After a moment of silence, Emma spoke up, her voice trembling, "I want to be with my daddy." Elizabeth wasn't aware of what had transpired around the corner of the bush where James had briefly peered before returning to urge them to run.

"We'll wait for James to come back, and then we can go and find your daddy," Elizabeth reassured Emma in a soothing tone, noticing the fear etched on the young girl's face. Emma nodded in response, finding comfort in Elizabeth's words.

James had successfully navigated through the house and was now sprinting towards the village hall. His mind was consumed with two primary concerns: first, he hoped to find military personnel at the hall who could assist him in returning to Emma and Elizabeth to ensure their safety, and secondly, he prayed that nothing would happen to the two of them in his absence. With these thoughts racing through his mind, he hurried towards the village hall.

As James made his way down the street, he had covered a significant distance before the soldiers emerged from the house he had just escaped. Spotting him in the distance, they quickly opened fire in an attempt to apprehend him, their shots echoing through the street as they aimed to bring him down.

Wizzes and crackles sounded out close to James as he was running away, he glanced behind him to the direction the crackles came from to see the soldiers in chase. Seeing this he quickened his pace.

After ten harrowing minutes of running for his life through the debris-covered streets, James found himself being pursued by the relentless soldiers. Gunshots rang out sporadically as they continued their chase. With determination in his stride, James pressed on, now racing down the road that led directly to the village hall. The sound of gunfire echoing behind him only fueled his urgency to reach his destination.