Max had long lost his sense of direction. The ground kept rushing up to meet him, uneven, dry and rocky, the somehow familiar floor of the forest. His face was flushed red with a fever and his own hot breath whistled in his ears.
Max could not remember what happened, or how it had gotten so bad so fast. In fact, he couldn't remember much of anything. Daylight was had gone hours ago and threatening noises from within the woods told him that he had to get somewhere safe, and fast. He just didn't know where to go.
He knew that he didn't start out in this position, and that something must have happened to put him in this situation. He was clearly sick, with every thought he had interrupted by a migraine. He had to get to someone, a friend, a counselor, anybody.
By dawn, the rocky forest terrain became a more of a smooth dirt road with trees on each side. Max dragged his aching body forward, hoping to see someone at the end.
Up ahead, a thin line of smoke curled up in the sky. But Max could not see it, as he finally collapsed, shaking and wheezing on the ground.
"Kid, hey, you boy!" A rough voice called out, but Max was beyond hearing it.