الصوت المشترك

Then— voices. Billy froze. They were close. Too close. He slowly shifted, careful not to move the branches too much, and peered through a small gap in the leaves. Figures moved between the trees. Soldiers. Relief hit him before he could stop it. They made it. Someone made it. His throat tightened, and for a second, everything inside him pushed him forward. Help. Safety. Someone who knew what was going on. Billy took a step. “…camp’s gone,” one of the soldiers said. He stopped.