Storm

Gasps echo around me as I grab Fel’s arm. Guns point, men shout, but I ignore them. The roof is collapsing, leaving an escape hole, and I grin as the explosives meant to kill Fel trip up the gunners.
“Storm! Your matches!”
I instantly understand Fel’s cry, and let go of her quickly. She takes the matches out of my pocket and lights one rapidly.
“Run, Storm!” she shouts, and tosses the match at the explosives.
I run. Fel is left behind, but I don’t worry for long. The house is not blown to bits just yet, and already Fel is leaping out of the hole in the roof.
“Come on, Fel!” I call, and in seconds she is right beside me. Screams of panic reach my ears, and I hear a huge explosion as the C4 detonates.
Within ten minutes Fel and I are in the forest. The dark night envelops our tree, but our strong vision allows us to clamber up the tree and into our camo sleeping bags.
“Ugh. Where do you think-”
I stop Fel as she speaks.
“I know where they came from, Fel. They’re not anyone normal. Didn’t you see their eyes?”
“Um, no.”
“I know they were wearing masks, but I could see their eyes. I know some of them from the Halflord’s.”
“Oh god, Storm, don’t say that name. You promised you would never say the name again!”
“Sheesh.” I reply.
I wriggle into my sleeping bag, nestled in a fork between two limbs in the giant oak.
“Storm, why does he want us? We’re just kids. So?”
“You know why, Fel.” I reply. “Fireflies, remember?”
My twelve-year-old sister stares at me. “How could I forget? What I mean is, for what PURPOSE does he want us?”
“I think he wants to kill us, but if—”
“What if he can’t kill us?”
“Fel, if he can’t kill us, he’ll trap us and bring us to his lair. THEN he’ll kill us.”