I froze, the buzzing of the red flies overwhelming my senses. Every time I breathed through the mask, it made the sound disappear for a second, causing the hair on my body to stand on end. I held my breath, listening for the noise, trying to discern the direction they were coming from.

The rest of the sounds in The Green seemed to have dulled, as if all the creatures knew the red flies were out on a hunt. My mind fumbled to remember what Ms. Dale had done on that first day we spent in The Green, but my brain felt thick as a brick.

The buzzing sound was definitely growing louder; moving closer to me. My heart beat quickening, I stumbled backward, away from the noise. My foot struck something, sending it spinning away from me. I managed to get the flashlight on it a few seconds before it disappeared into the mist, illuminating the silver aerosol can as it rolled across the mossy ground.

The aerosol can. I was so stupid. Of course, the aerosol can.

I scrambled after it, searching for it on the ground. The buzzing grew more persistent, but I focused. The can would help keep them away from me. I just needed to find a small space to squeeze into so that they couldn’t engulf me.

I heard something shriek from the direction of the buzzing, and stilled. My hands shaking, I cursed beneath my breath. I needed to get it together. Never in my life had I felt so helpless and frustrated. My anxiety was palpable.

I thought again about the Benuxupane pills in the bag. I had taken them only once, and they had managed to suppress my emotions. Maybe I really should take them again.

No, I told myself firmly, my fists clenched. If anything, they were responsible for how I was behaving right now. I remembered Lee mentioning something about one of the side effects being anxiety. Maybe it was responsible for the fact that I couldn’t seem to think straight right now.

I scanned the ground, and found the silver can wedged under a root. I shook it—it was half full.

I hurried to where my bag was, taking extra care to make sure everything was back in place. I nearly kicked myself when I saw the other four canisters in the bag. I had known they were in there, but with the panic that seemed to be arresting my senses, I could only seem to focus on one thing at a time.

I took a deep breath, and tried to calm my mind, picturing the steps of what I needed to do to hide. First, I needed to finish packing the bag.

I did it quickly, in spite of my shaking hands. I sucked in a deep breath of air through the mask.

Second, I needed to find a hole. I began to scan the tree that I’d been sleeping against. The roots were massive, but I didn’t notice anywhere I could curl up and hide.

The sense of panic threatened to overwhelm me again, as I felt tears forming in my eyes. Crying in a mask was never a good idea, as moisture in there would cause it to fog and obscure vision, so I took yet another deep breath and blinked back the tears.

I started talking to myself, which helped me to focus.

“Okay, you just need to find a hollow log. That’s good. Just use your flashlight and look around. There’s plenty of vegetation here, so you’ll find something very soon.”

Focusing on my words helped push the anxiety aside. I felt my chest loosening, and my muscles unclenching. The shaking in my hands stopped. I moved quickly, talking as I did so, until I spotted a hollow log.

I felt my lips start to form a smile, when something caught my eye. I adjusted the flashlight, focusing on it, and almost screamed.

Twenty feet in front of me, rippling out like a wall, was the swarm of red flies, hovering in unison. Their crimson bodies shimmered, and it might have looked beautiful, if it wasn’t so terrifying. It was hard to make out an individual red fly. They darted in and out of the swarm too fast to distinguish. From this distance, I could feel the buzzing of their wings, the sound vibrating along my skin and in my bones.

I took a step to the left, toward the log, and I watched as the swarm rippled, adjusting itself to me. The log was maybe five or six feet behind me. I licked my lips and took another slow step back.

The swarm exploded, little red blurs shooting toward me like bullets. Unable to control my shriek, I dropped my flashlight and ran. My legs tore across the mossy ground, eating up the distance in a matter of seconds. I could feel the air behind me growing denser as the swarm closed in.

Without even thinking, I dove in headfirst. It felt like it took me minutes to roll over, canister in hand, and spray, but in reality, it was seconds. I heard the splat of the red flies as they impacted on the log. I continued to spray the aerosol container in front of the hole, keeping them out. Through the spray, I could see the red bodies trying to push their way in, only to jerk away as they made contact with the haze.

I wasn’t sure how long I sat there, spraying the aerosol container at the hole. The red fly swarm sat just outside, buzzing around. Occasionally, it would try to press in, but the spray held it back. It was growing lighter in my hand with all the continuous spraying, so I blindly reached for the bag with my other hand.

I wished I hadn’t dropped the flashlight. Occasionally, as the swarm buzzed against the log, there would be a gap and I could see the light shining through from where the flashlight sat on the ground. But beyond that, I couldn’t see anything. I didn’t even know how big this log was inside, and I was too afraid to try and feel it out. So I sat, arms around my knees, spraying the hole, my legs cramping and back aching.

I found the bag, and changed aerosol containers. My finger on my left hand had become stiff from compressing the spray nozzle, so I flexed my hand, spraying with the other. I really wanted to stretch out. I really wanted to sleep, but I knew I couldn’t. If I did, I would die.

And for what, some deranged psychopath, some stupid egg, and some game of political power? I wanted my brother. I wanted Viggo. And I wanted to live a life free from violence and fear. I just had no idea how I could do it.

I remembered when I was younger, and Tim and I were lying in bed, reading a story. In it, a woman was lost in a forest. Her sisters had been captured by an evil man, intent on selling them in Patrus. The woman had run from him, and had barely escaped. She cried in the forest, bemoaning the fact that she didn’t fight the man, and that she would never see her sisters again. She was crying so hard, that she didn’t notice the old woman who had come to kneel next to her. The old woman explained that her own daughters had been taken by the same man, and that she was on her way to kill him. She asked if the younger woman would like to help, and together, they found the man, killed him, and freed the sisters.

There was a lot more in the story in between, but the old woman was a sort of legend in Matrus. She had no name, and no great power, save that of knowledge. She was exactly what I needed—a guide. I knew it was childish of me to want that, but I allowed myself to dream of the story, if only for a moment.

I was so embroiled in my thoughts, that it took me a minute to realize that the forest had gone silent. Sitting up straight, I stared out of the hole, and saw nothing but the light shining in from the flashlight.

I didn’t dare stop compressing the aerosol container. For all I knew, it was a trap. I waited for what seemed like eternity. My legs and arms were starting to tingle from being held in that one position, but I ignored it—or at least, I tried to. It started at my ankles, and began working its way up my shins and to my knees. I didn’t dare move my legs to stretch them out, but the prickling sensation was starting to irritate me. So, I reached down and began rubbing my legs with my free hand. As I smoothed down the fabric of my dress, I froze as I felt something roil under my hand.

Quivering, I removed my hand, and began to draw up my skirt, the sound of fabric sliding across my skin filling the small space of the log. It spilled over my knee and I clapped a hand over my mouth to keep from screaming at the long black centipede clinging to my leg.

I became aware of other movements around me, and felt the brush of thousands of sharp little legs. Something shifted behind me, disturbing my hair, and I felt the weight of a hard body pressing into my scalp.

I screamed and scrambled out of the hole, jerking my bag around me. Three centipedes hit the ground as I shook my body and head frantically, trying to dislodge the creatures. I shuddered, crying openly now as I continued to shake myself, my mind and body convinced there were more on me. I ran hands over my arms and hair, trying to make sure they were all clear. Revulsion welled up in me at the thought of any of those insects on me, their tiny little legs pricking into my flesh, crawling over me. I couldn’t seem to stop shaking, and had to take the mask off a few times to wipe my face and the glass lenses as cold tears spilled down my cheeks. I realized I was having a panic attack. I closed my eyes and focused on my breathing, trying to convince myself that they were gone.

It took several minutes for it to work. I was equal parts repulsed and frustrated. I had made up my mind about what to do—finally—and now I was stuck in the last place in the world I needed to be. Alone.

I suddenly found myself wishing that Viggo was there. He’d know what to do better than I would. Suddenly inspired, I pulled a memory of him into my mind, and used it to ground myself, by imagining every line of his face, from the curl of his lashes to the strong cut of his chin.

Eventually, I started to calm down. Methodically, I began checking my body again, when I felt something on my upper thigh start burning. Looking down, I saw a centipede clinging on to my dress, biting through the fabric with its massive black pincer mouth. Gasping, I grabbed the squirming body with my hand, ripping it off me and throwing it as hard as I could.

I grabbed my backpack, shaking it to make sure it was clear, picked up the flashlight, and began limping away, the wound in my leg throbbing. I searched for another hidey hole, and found one quickly. This time, I sprayed the hollow, using the remaining contents in the second container. Insects swarmed out, and I flinched as a couple of centipedes slithered past, but after a few minutes, I was convinced it was clear.

I slipped inside, fighting wave after wave of panic. My breathing was labored, but I tried to focus on anything but the centipedes. I dumped the contents of my bag on the floor, and began to rummage about. Lee had packed some spare clothes, and I slipped the shirt on, buttoning up the front. It was large, but serviceable. I ripped up the dress into long strips, and then grabbed the canteen. Gritting my teeth, I poured some over the wound, watching as blood and yellow fluid ran down my leg. I wiped it off with one cloth, and then repeated the action several times before I realized I couldn’t spare any more water.

Then I wrapped my leg up with a piece of cloth, hoping to stop the bleeding. I slipped on Lee’s pants, making a belt out of one of the strips of fabric, and then leaned back, my head pounding.

As I lay there, I realized that I was in serious trouble. Chances were that the centipedes were venomous. Everything in The Green seemed to kill, and if I didn’t find medical help soon, I was quite certain I would die.