The boy didn't like stopping anymore.
Stopping meant thinking.
Thinking meant noticing things he didn't understand.
And right now, there were too many things he didn't understand.
He slowed near a wide open field.
Tall grass moved with the wind. The sky above was clear, almost too calm after everything that had happened.
No people.
No sounds.
No danger.
It should have felt peaceful.
It didn't.
He stepped into the field anyway.
The grass brushed against his legs as he walked through it. Each step felt slow. Too slow.
He resisted the urge to run.
Just walk, he told himself.
Normal people walk.
He walked for about five minutes.
Then he started jogging.
"…Walking is useless," he decided.
Halfway through the field, he saw someone.
A boy.
About his age.
Sitting on a rock, throwing small stones into the grass.
The boy stopped.
The other boy noticed him and waved.
"Hey!"
The runner didn't respond at first.
People were… complicated.
But this one didn't look dangerous.
No weapon. No strange smile. Just bored.
"…What are you doing?" the runner asked.
"Nothing," the other boy replied. "I've been sitting here for a while."
"…Why?"
The boy shrugged. "Waiting."
"For what?"
"I don't know."
That made no sense.
The runner stared at him.
"…You're strange."
The other boy laughed. "You're the one standing in the middle of nowhere."
That was fair.
"Where are you going?" the boy asked.
The runner paused.
"…I don't know."
The boy blinked.
"Then why are you moving?"
"…Because staying feels wrong."
The boy nodded slowly.
"…That actually makes sense."
They sat together for a while.
Quiet.
The runner didn't like sitting.
His legs felt restless.
Like they wanted to move on their own.
He tapped his foot.
Then both feet.
Then stood up.
"I'm leaving."
"That was fast," the other boy said.
"I'm always fast."
The other boy smiled.
"…Can you show me?"
The runner hesitated.
That question again.
Show me.
Why did everyone want to see that?
"…No."
"Why not?"
"…Bad things happen after."
The other boy tilted his head.
"That sounds like a problem."
"…It is."
The wind picked up.
The grass moved harder now.
Something changed.
The runner felt it first.
That same pressure.
That same feeling.
His body tensed.
"…You should leave," he said.
The other boy blinked. "Why?"
"…Because they're coming."
"Who?"
The answer came quickly.
Too quickly.
Four figures stepped out from the tall grass.
Silent. Calm. Smiling.
The other boy stood up slowly.
"…Your friends?"
The runner shook his head.
"No."
The men looked at him like they had already found what they were looking for.
"You move around a lot," one of them said.
The runner didn't reply.
Another stepped forward.
"Show us."
The runner sighed.
"…Again?"
He looked at the other boy.
"Run."
"What?"
"Just run."
The runner moved first.
A blur.
Gone.
The other boy stood there for a second.
Then the men ignored him completely.
All eyes locked onto the direction the runner went.
They chased.
The runner pushed forward, faster than before.
Wind cut past his ears.
The field ended.
Trees began.
He didn't slow down.
But something was wrong.
No matter how he moved…
No matter how many times he changed direction…
They didn't get lost.
His steps became sharper.
Faster.
More desperate.
Why?
He jumped over a fallen tree.
Turned left.
Then right.
Then doubled back.
Still—
They followed.
For the first time, his speed didn't feel enough.
Far behind, one of the men smiled.
"He's getting faster," he said.
"Good," another replied. "That means he's worth more."
The runner didn't hear them.
But somehow—
It felt like something was closing in.
He stopped suddenly on a cliff edge.
Breathing hard.
Thinking.
"…This is bad."
Below him, the drop was deep.
Behind him, footsteps were getting closer.
For the first time…
Running forward wasn't an option.
The boy looked down.
Then back.
Then smiled slightly.
"…Fine."
And stepped off the cliff.
End of Chapter 11