The Resistors

Ivan's face was burning. His heart was racing as he pushed further into the thickets of the forest, each branch or limb slashing his face any chance they got. The two voices of the hunters were still near. His rush and adrenaline didn't dare cease.

“He went farther in!” One hunter shouted.

Ivan continued to run. That is, until his feet were halted by the bulkiest part of the tree trunk along his path. His body was thrusted forward. In fear, he struggled to get himself to his feet, and immediately began to crawl to the closest bush for refuge. He stood hidden. Listening. Breathing in small spurts.

“The boy would’ve been dead if you bothered to bring those darn mutts along!” The other spit out in anger.

“He’d be dead if you bothered to aim right!” The first fired back, much more high-strung in both his tone of voice.

They began to argue, and seeing as they both held up fairly same in both height and huskiness, they had no care to whether it came to a physical altercation or not. Though he was the subject of their argument, Ivan couldn't help but feel relieved as they were more attentive to which one of them were responsible for their failures. But this wasn't only a matter of saving their own egos, they would have to report back to an authority.

Ivan began to hold on tightly to my arm, becoming more aware of the pain and blood gushing out of it. He teared the bottom of his shirt to get to it, wincing as he did so.

“Ah! I got him fine enough!" The second hunter said, attempting to stir away from the idea that his shot was the reason for the boy's escape. "He’ll bleed out or get eaten by some bear... or something."

“You’re an idiot.”

Soon enough, Ivan was able to get his arm fully wrapped and tight and the voices of the two hunters began to fade into the distance. Now, all there was to hear was the howls of the night and the rustle of the leaves. But it was no comfort, the setting further reminded him of his isolation and the threats that could await him. He contemplated where he would go from this point.

"Should I wait until morning? Find my way back? I don't even know where to start." His thoughts began to run.

He wandered the forest anyway. Getting only a few steps farther from the tree trunk that he fell over.

Suddenly, there was a new presence that he became aware of. He jumped a bit at the crunch of leaves and twigs. He twisted around, looking all around for a figure in the darkness. He took slow steps back, hoping to find another safe place to hide. His eyes were soon able to catch a light, moving in all directions.

"Could it be the hunters again?" He thought. He tried to catch onto any sound of their speech.

“You think they plan to come deeper?"

"If they do, we ought to think about moving by tonight."

They didn't sound like the hunters. The voices were much quieter than the two that were after him too. Nonetheless, they were only coming closer, and they could be just as much as a threat. The light was only moving forward. Ivan rushed to the nearest tree and leaned against its back. He peeked, making out three figures heading his way. What was he to do? They were closer now. Too close to outrun and too dangerous to take on.

"Well, it should only be about an hour until it's morning, so we should have enough to get back."

Ivan saw that as his chance to move, but it was an ill judgement. The ears of the men were immediately heightened. They made their way forward once more. The boy began to shake, not knowing what to do. There was only an impulse to run. And he acted on it. In response, he was chased. Very easily. He didn't get far until one of the men got him locked in his arms. Ivan struggled to get free from his grasp, and whined from the pressure that the man was putting on his arm. He was finally able to get a kick back and mess with the man's control and got himself thrusted onto the ground. A gun was loaded. Ivan froze.

"Alright," He said, pointing the gun toward his head. "I want you to get up. Get up, now!"

Ivan obeyed, getting himself onto his feet again and slowly lifted his hands in the air. The man began to study Ivan's face, and Ivan tried his best to not show any fear. He kept a straight face, but the subtle quiver of his lips and his widened eyes would expose the opposite.

"How old are you?" The man asked, never wavering the gun from its position.

Ivan didn't answer.

"I won't ask again. How old are you?"

"Sixteen." He finally answered.

"Who's with you?"

"No one."

“Think he's a spy?” The man behind him asked. He practically towered over each one of them.

“Ridiculous, getting kids to work for 'em." The third man commented, he stood right beside the one that held Ivan at gunpoint, carrying nearly all their supplies on him.

"Unless you want trouble, you better tell us who you are and who you're working for." The man began to put his gun down.

“I’m-I’m no spy.” Ivan replied.

“If you’re not with the hunters, then what’re you doing here?”

“The hunters? I’m running! Running, don’t you see?” I pointed at my wound. “Those hunters were trying to shoot me down!”

The three men were silent for a moment and began to lower their defenses against the boy. The man put his gun away and held up his arm and moved it aside.

“What they want with you?” He asked.

No answer.

“Kid, what you do to get ‘em after you?” The other man asked, juggling all the supplies on his back.

Ivan felt the bitterness and anger toward the hunters rise within him.

“My family.” He muttered.

“Oh I understand that,” The supply man patted him on his shoulder. “They taken a lot of my family too. I’m the only alive.”

“But mine won’t die with no justice. Promise.” Ivan said solemnly.

“They don’t like resistors that’s all, but we’ll show them, they’ll always have us.” He replied. 

The largest man made his way in front of Ivan, with only two words.

“Follow us.”

Ivan was welcomed into their group that day. That day he met those shared or went well beyond his own pain. A new face met a hundred others who hid across the forest and other places. With the same motivations – survival and justice. The Resistors. A simple name, but a fiery force.