Ronin (The Pike Chronicles Book 3) by G. P. Hudson Page B

puncturing his eye ball. He pulled his hood down low, covering his forehead and eyes and buttoned his cloak over his chin. It offered some relief and allowed him to focus on keeping up.
    He was big for his age, but fast and agile. Mountains and forests had been his back yard his whole life. His every step felt familiar. Every sound, every smell, was accompanied by a memory. His parents had taught him how to survive. If he needed to, he could live on his own in the wild indefinitely. He knew how to find food and shelter, and how to stay safe from predators. Wolves, coyotes, bears, and even the secretive cougar. He could spot their signs and always knew when they were near. But the Chaanisar were a different kind of predator. Could he survive against such an advanced hunter?
    They ran for over an hour through the forest before they finally reached the caves. They had put a little over ten kilometers between them and the camp, but that meant nothing. A Chaanisar soldier could cover that ground in half the time without breaking a sweat. Their vessel could cover the distance in minutes. They had gotten this far through luck alone. The Chaanisar would come, it was only a matter of time.
    Even in the dark, the moonlight illuminated the rock face up ahead. Halfway up was a small opening that allowed access to the caves. When they reached the base of the cliff his father gestured for Jon to go first. He was the best climber after all. Jon slung his weapon over his back, reached up, grabbed a chunk of rock in each hand and pulled. He found footings for his feet and pushed higher. His cousins followed, with his father coming up the rear.
    The rock was relatively dry which made climbing easier. He had reached a height level with the surrounding treetops. The moon shone brighter now, unobstructed by the tree canopies. A light wind blew, flapping his cloak about, without hampering his progress. He took in a deep breath of cold mountain air and reached for an outcropping of rock. He pulled himself up and grabbed for another. Something caught the corner of his eye and he turned to look. It was the Chaanisar craft, hovering above the treetops, hunting for resistance fighters. It moved across the top of the forest in wide, sweeping patterns. His gut tightened when he realized that it was headed in their direction.
    “They’re coming,” he said, looking down at his cousins. “We have to hurry.”
    “Shit,” said Jason, looking across the trees and spotting the Chaanisar ship.
    Gripped by fear they climbed faster, no longer concerned with falling. The vessel covered a surprising amount of distance in a very short time. It seemed to glide across the treetops, like it was skating on a frozen pond. Jon heard its engines now, and the sound drove him harder. In his haste his foot slipped, sending small stones down on top of Jason’s head.
    “Ow! Watch it,” said Jason.
    “Sorry, cousin,” said Jon.
    “Never mind, just hurry,” Jason replied, his voice tense.
    Jon kept going. A few more meters and he finally reached the mouth of the cave. His hand groped the ledge in the darkness, searching for something to grab. He found a gap between two rocks, enough to squeeze his fingers in. He anchored his hand and kicked up a leg. His foot hooked the lip, the muscles in his thigh burning. He took a breath and pulled himself up onto the ledge.
    The engines were louder. The Chaanisar closer. The sound reverberating against the rock. Jason reached the ledge next and Jon helped him up. Then came Michael, Jon and Jason together hoisting him up. His father was last. The ship practically on top of them now. It hovered just ahead of the cliff. Its lights sweeping the forest. Sophisticated equipment searching for the remaining fighters. Soon those lights would bathe the rock face. They would be seen and then there would be no escape.
    He peered over the edge at his father. He almost made it. He had to make it. “Come on, father. They’re on top of us,”