The Elite (Selection)

shot was fired.
    “Stand down!” Maxon shrieked. “You’ll hit her! Cease fire!”
    There were some more shots, and Maxon continued to scream his orders until I was too far away to make them out. I ran through the open field and realized then that I was alone in this. Maxon was being held back by his father, and Aspen was doing his duty. Any guard coming for me would be behind the rebels. All I could do was run for my life.
    Fear made me fast, and I was surprised by how well I avoided the undergrowth once I hit the woods. The ground was dry, parched from months with no rain, and it was solid. I vaguely felt my legs getting scratched, but I didn’t slow down to see how bad it was.
    I was sweating, and my dress was sticking to my chest as I moved. It was cooler in the woods, and steadily getting darker, but I was hot. At home I sometimes ran for fun, to play with Gerad or just to feel the ache of exertion. But I’d been sitting in the palace for months, eating real food for the first time, and I could feel it now. My lungs burned, and my legs were throbbing. Still, I ran.
    After I got far enough in the woods, I looked over my shoulder to check how close the rebels were. I couldn’t hear them with the blood pounding in my ears, and when I checked, I couldn’t see them either. I decided this was my best chance to hide, before they caught sight of the bright dress in the dim woods.
    I didn’t stop until I saw a tree that looked wide enough to conceal me. Once I was behind it, I noticed that there was a branch low enough to grab and climb, too. I took off my shoes, tossing them away, hoping they wouldn’t lead the rebels right to me. I climbed, though not very high, and turned my back to the tree, making myself as small as I could.
    I focused hard on slowing my breath, fearing the sound would give me away. But even after I did that, for a moment it was quiet. I figured I’d lost them. I didn’t move, waiting to be sure. Seconds later, I heard a loud rustling.
    “We should have come at night,” someone—a girl—huffed. I flattened myself against the tree, praying nothing would snap.
    “They wouldn’t have been outside at night,” a man replied.
    They were still running, or trying to, and it sounded like they were having a rough go of it.
    “Let me carry some,” he offered. It sounded like they were getting very close.
    “I can do it.”
    I held my breath and watched as they passed right under my tree. Just when I thought I might be safe, the girl’s bag ripped, and a pile of books fell to the forest floor. What was she doing with so many books?
    “Damn it,” she cursed, getting down on her knees. She was wearing a denim jacket with some kind of flower embroidered on it over and over again. She had to be burning in that.
    “Told you to let me help.”
    “Shut up!” The girl pushed at the boy’s legs. In that playful gesture, I could see how much affection there was between them.
    In the distance, someone whistled.
    “Is that Jeremy?” she asked.
    “Sounds like him.” He bent and picked up a few books.
    “Go get him. I’ll be right behind you.”
    He looked unsure but agreed, kissing her forehead before jogging off.
    The girl gathered the rest of her books, using a knife to cut the strap off her bag and bind them together.
    I felt a sense of relief as she rose, assuming she would start moving. But she flipped her hair back out of her face, raising her eyes to the sky.
    And she saw me.
    No amount of quiet or stillness would help me now. If I screamed, would the guards come? Or were the rest of the rebels too close for that to matter?
    We stared at each other. I waited for her to call the others, hoping that whatever they had planned for me wasn’t too painful.
    But she didn’t make a sound except to let out a single quiet laugh, amused at our situation.
    Another whistle sounded, slightly different from the last, and we both glanced in the direction it came from before looking at each other again.
    And then, in the least expected of all possible gestures, she swung one leg behind the other, lowering herself in a graceful curtsy. I looked on, completely stunned. She rose, smiling, and ran off toward the whistle. I watched her back as a hundred tiny sewn flowers disappeared into the brush.
    When it felt like more than an hour had passed, I decided I could get down. I stood at the foot of the tree, realizing I didn’t know where my shoes were. I walked around the base of the trunk, trying to