Jack ran.
He ran across a field and through a ditch, scaring up a batch of ducks. He sprinted across a road and into a neighborhood he didn't recognize. He cut across a backyard and flew over a playground at a school he didn't know. He struggled over a shaky, wood slat fence and turned his ankle on a overgrown stump.
Jack kept looking behind him, his left arm flailing to keep balance with the weight from the Doorway he held in his right hand.
There was no way anyone could have been following him. He didn't even know where he was. He wasn't sure when he was.
It was the first time Jack had ever tried to jump in time using Jeb's advice. There was simply no way Damien could know where he was. There was no possible way Damien could have followed him.
He ran anyway.
Lungs burning, Jack risked another look behind him, wondering if he could slow down soon.
Jack turned back around just in time to see the branch from a moss-covered, old apple tree appear in front of his face. It took him just above the eyebrow, knocking him to his knees.
Jack tried to get back to his feet, but his legs wouldn't work right. He fell atop the Doorway and stayed mostly on the right side of consciousness.
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