She took a few tentative steps along the bridge before turning around again, her brows creased in anxiety.
“Please, can’t we stay together?” she begged him for what felt like the hundredth time.
Again, he glanced over his shoulder, a fleeting look of worry. He touched her hand gently.
“Go,” he said, his tone urgent. “Please. I’ll be with you soon.”
She dropped her head defiantly when they heard a noise. His eyes widened, he spun around and shoved her away. Slightly confused, she tried to look over his shoulder, when after a loud bang his body, suddenly, fell against hers. She cried out in surprise and that was when she finally saw what had been troubling him. His former best friend stood a few feet away, a smile tugging at his lips, with a gun in his hand.
“Run,” the body slouched against hers whispered again, and this time she listened.
Friday Fictioneers, 12 August 2016
Photo prompt provided by Adam Ickes
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