the smuggler’s bible

Oskar

Oskar holds his arms up as he runs, trying to keep the branches out of his face. He can hear snarls and tearing sounds coming from the clearing where he’d abandoned the doctor’s body. Maybe that will keep them busy, he thinks, dodging a root and wobbling slightly as his foot lands on a slime-coated leaf.

His radio crackles. “Hey-o, away team. Base camp checking in.”

“Thank god. Pack all the shit for evac,” Oskar huffs. “And hurry!”

There is a pause. “We discussed this, away team,” the voice says. “Remember? About how using bossy words makes other people feel?”