Òyì nke e mepụtara

Billy pushed himself up slowly, his ears screaming, his hands shaking as they pressed into the dirt. Smoke rose into the sky where the camp had been, thick and dark, swallowing everything. Gone. All of it. His chest tightened. He didn’t think. He just ran. Branches whipped across his face as he forced his way through the bush, stumbling over roots and rocks, slipping down loose dirt. His breath came in sharp, uneven bursts, his heart pounding so hard it made his whole body shake.