He spotted a tree with low branches and moved toward it, intending to climb and hide until they passed.
He grabbed the bark and pulled himself upward. Pain exploded through his body.
His muscles failed him. His grip slipped. He fell back to the ground, the impact knocking the air from his lungs. Before he could recover, movement appeared ahead.
Three boys stepped into view.
"It's him," one of them said quietly.
The other narrowed his eyes, stepping closer. "The one who robbed us."
They did not rush him.
They slowed as they approached him, their earlier urgency giving way to something more cautious now that they could see him clearly.
For a moment, neither of them spoke. They had expected resistance and a fight.
Instead, Ivor lay on the ground, his body hunched slightly forward, his breathing uneven. Sweat clung to his skin, dampening his shirt, his shoulders trembling faintly with each breath.
