‘Come-on, we need to go.’ Sabine tugged at the limp arm. ‘There are soldiers in the far field.’
‘You go,’ Josef said, his face pale and damp, his body shivering.
‘They’ll kill you.’
‘I’m already half-dead.’
‘And in a week you’ll have another forty years to live. Get out of the bed! They’ll be here soon.’
‘And then we’ll both be dead. I can barely breath, let alone run.’
‘Josef, please. Move!’
He lethargically manoeuvred his legs round onto the floor.
Sabine tugged him upright and dragged him to the door.
In the distance, two shots echoed in the twilight.
A drabble is a story of exactly 100 words.