He had heard it. He couldn’t convince himself otherwise. He couldn’t think of a reasonable explanation for it being something else.
It was a loud crack, like that of a firecracker, that pierced through the cold night. He was worried, it was so close, too close. He had to get home, to a safe place.
He started sprinting home, worried that he would hear it again, worried that he would be the next to feel it.
As he passed houses, he saw lights being turned on in the dark homes.
“Good,” he thought to himself, “I wasn’t the only one who heard it.”
His side was burning worse than it ever had burned before. He needed a break from the intense running, but knew he couldn’t stop. He needed to reach his haven. He needed to tell someone what he knew.