The Sniper: A Short Story

Alivah was running for her life through muddy fields and dense forest, attempting to evade the sniper who was on her tail. She'd been grounded by one of their anti aircraft missiles, and her parachute was kind enough to tangle itself into a chestnut tree, of all things. The spiky shells of the nuts had pierced the fabric of the chute and stuck as if they were deliberately trying to hinder her escape, and so she had to hurry to cut herself down. From her vantage point in the tree she couldn't miss the convoy of vehicles that was attempting to negotiate the rough terrain to intercept her.

As she made her way through the trees the convoy had been her most pressing concern, right up until the point that Alivah felt herself being pelted with the bark of another chestnut tree. The bullet had lodged itself into the unfortunate tree at about the height of her knee, and had missed hitting her by only a few centimeters. From the direction that the tree had been hit, Alivah realized that it could not have been a member of the convoy who had fired upon her. She was being flanked by a sniper.

He was fast, and he was a good shot. From the shot that had come near to her, it looked as if he was aiming to wound her rather than kill. Some consolation at least, although she certainly didn't want to find out what he would do
She quietly got to her feet, scanning the trees ahead for the best route out of the forest. Her heart skipped a beat as her eyes met those of her pursuer; he was crouched in the trees no more than twenty feet away from her. She panicked and ran, attempting to get a head start before he could get up. Too slow, too slow, too slow! Her brain chanted as she stumbled on the uneven ground. Her sniper, used to this land, had no such trouble. He seemed to have decided that he was too close to use his gun in such dense forest. Or he was just enjoying the chase. Either way, at least she wasn't getting shot