ALJUN'S POV
The tank moved.
Aljun grabbed Lance by the back of his jacket and pulled him forward before Lance could look back. Marybeth caught Lance's other side, but Lance was already running, his breath sharp and broken as he forced his legs under him. One hand kept pressing near his stomach, but he stayed on his feet because the tank had already taken another step.
"Run!" Arnulf shouted.
They broke down the street. Harry ran beside Arnulf. Archie stayed close behind them with his injured hand pressed to his chest, and Bert followed with his weapon raised. Chanse grabbed Tilly and pulled her forward, keeping her close to his side as she stumbled over the broken pavement.
Aljun looked back once and wished he had not.
The tank was still far, but the gap had already shrunk. They were sprinting, and Lance was running on whatever fear and pain had left in him, but the tank kept gaining. It bent without stopping, tore a chunk of concrete from the road, and threw it.
