"Keep moving Nigel!"
Nigel didn't answer but she could hear him crashing through the brush behind her. He had ditched the backpack earlier in their run to allow him to stay ahead. Even so, his breathing was coming in harsh pants, as was hers. Despite her rigorous workout regimen, she felt this run in every breath, in the soreness of her legs, the stitch forming in her side, and in the harsh beating of her heart.
Sydney glanced behind them to see the militia getting closer. They needed to find somewhere to hide, some way out. She ducked her head in response to the gunfire that echoed around them, and scowled with frustration at having almost no time to look for any other options. The next gunshot came from a different angle.
"They're fanning out!" she shouted to Nigel. While she didn't have much breath to spare, she wanted to make sure Nigel wasn't caught unaware.
Suddenly they cleared the trees and found themselves running towards a clear blue sky. It took each of them a moment to realize what they were seeing, and they came to a stop just a couple feet from the edge of a cliff. They both flailed and reached for each other instinctively. Sydney felt a small amount of comfort feeling Nigel's solid presence under her hand and reluctantly dropped hers from his shoulder, Nigel doing the same with the hand that had rested on her bicep.
Together they peered over the edge, taking in the deep blue of the water and the white foam spray as it crashed against the grey rocks near the bottom of the cliff.
"No," Nigel said through panted breaths, as he looked up at her. "Not ha-happening."
"Only 100 feet, Nigel."
"Only?" He looked down again and back up at Sydney. "How-how deep do you think the water is?" Nigel asked. He was bent over, his hands on his knees.
"Hard to say."
Nigel flinched as the gunfire started up again, closer than before. They were lucky the militia had such horrible aim. Sydney scanned the trees, looking for men to appear; they were dressed in camouflage, and it would be hard to spot them. She looked around desperately for an escape route, but where they had come out was a sort of peninsula. Any chance of escape by land would be going straight back towards the gunfire of the men currently trying to kill them for the jeweled dagger in her satchel. They were cornered.
"We have to jump," Sydney said, looking over the edge of the cliff.
"What?" Nigel exclaimed, alternating his gaze between her and the water. "That's suicide!"
"I don't think we have much of a choice, Nigel," she replied, her own voice holding a note of panic. She tried to tamp it down. It wouldn't do to cause Nigel more alarm than was necessary – their situation was bad enough as it was. "It's either them and certain death," she looked towards the trees and thought she saw movement, "or the chance that we don't hit the rocks." She looked at Nigel, poor Nigel who had just wanted a quiet teaching job at a small university. Nigel gazed back at her, his face like an open book.
"I go where you go, Syd," he said, his voice quiet and sure in direct opposition to the panic he had just displayed just seconds ago.
She could see the worry and terror, but also trust and understanding. It was such an odd feeling, being trusted as he trusted her, and it caught her by surprise every time that she understood that he was completely willing to follow her, whatever may come. Sure, he was clumsy and emotive, but he was consistently there for her, loyal and steady. They stared into each other's eyes, each looking for the right answer, the right move, weighing the options, when Sydney suddenly realized that there hadn't been any gunfire in the last few moments.
"Well, well, well," said a man, stepping out from the trees. Her head jerked towards the voice. There was a line of men holding rifles pointed straight at them stretching the length of the entry to the woods.
To her left, Nigel stepped back, and she reached out to steady him before he inadvertently went off the cliff. If they were doing that, they were doing it together when they were completely out of options. She truly didn't know if she had the stomach to watch him go down on his own. The longer they worked together, the harder it was when she thought he was in trouble without her.
"Looks like you're out of options," the man said. "Nowhere to go." He took a step forward, then another. "It's time to hand over that dagger."
"Then you'll what, let us go?" Sydney said, trying to buy time. Her mind was still frantically searching for a way out. None. There was none. They were trapped.
The man smiled, showing his teeth, and nodded towards the cliff. "People jump off that cliff while they're hiking here all the time. They never find the bodies."
"So we're just a couple of tourists."
"That's right." He took another step. Sydney's heart was in her throat. At least it had been confirmed. Certain death if they stayed, possible death if they jumped.
Sydney looked over her shoulder again. Did she risk it? Did she risk Nigel? She looked at him, realizing in that moment that her hand was still on his arm. He gave her an almost imperceptible nod and her hand tightened. She would miss their silent communication if they didn't make it. She took a step backwards. Would the gunfire start before they had fallen over the edge?
"You know," she said, her voice strong now that she had made up her mind, "I think I dropped it while we were running. Back there," she gestured with a nod of her head.
The man frowned and turned automatically to look behind him at the trees, and Sydney took the chance to turn, Nigel doing the same.
They jumped.
