Tris shut the door to the abandoned house she entered, hoping that the group of croats that wsere chasing her wouldn’t find her there. The house was almost completely dark except for the weak moonlight that entered from the windows. She dropped her backpack to the side and sat on the ground, back pressed against the wall and one hand covering the bleeding wound on her waist. The croat hadn’t turned her, but it got pretty close to.
She closed her eyes tight and held her hands together. “I… I’ve never actually been a believer,” she said, hopinng there was someone hearing her attempt to pray for the first time in years. “But times change, I guess. If… if there’s anyone hearing, God, angels or whatever else that exists… Please, I need help, a signal… anything.” She waited for a few minutes, wondering if praying would actually work or if it was just in vain.