"I just want you to leave," he insisted, expression shifting from pleading to resigned, and in two long strides he was beside her, on hand lightly touching her elbow as she flinched, stopping her from retreating further. "But it’s too late," he added softly. "They’re here."
His gaze was fixed past her, and Lizzy spun around quickly, ridges of sand rising up around her feet as she twisted, almost sending her stumbling but the foreign fingers still resting against her elbow tightened, and kept her steady.
It took her a moment to spot them. Long enough that fear began whispering that maybe he'd lied. That maybe she was about to feel teeth against her skin, but then a near-skeletal form staggered out from between two of the small, brightly painted, wooden huts and Lizzy felt herself freeze.
"Squirrel shit," she hissed, panic clawing at her throat.