Tearing past people, I knew we were drawing attention. We didn’t care. Swinging left, we headed for the woods. A trail of people were going up the hill, and as we broke past the first trees, we could hear their yelling.
I was straining, my heart pumping, but I couldn’t make out Jordan’s voice.
We kept going.
The trail was narrow. The trees blocked the moonlight, but there were lights ahead, and people on the trail had their phones out, helping to show the way. We sprinted past. A few people screamed, and a couple glanced back, then staggered out of our way. A girl gasped.
Another, “Holy s**t!”
Then, “Slow down!”
And the giggles. Some people thought this was funny.
I wanted to pivot back and punch them, but Jordan needed us.
Thank God Zellman had remained sober tonight. Thank God al
