One foot in front of the other. He had to keep going. There was no turning back.

They almost caught up with him several times. In the woods he'd tripped over a branch, sprawled, and felt their hot breath on his back just before he kicked off and escaped. Now he was in the clear, wide open spaces of the school's football field. No obstructions in his path. No cover or refuge in sight.

On foot in front of the other. If he could just keep running for another mile or so, he could make it to the church where he'd be safe. Even as he pondered this, he heard his pursuers closing in and knew he'd never make it.

With a final leap, his brothers tackled him, pinning him to the ground. Sitting on his chest, his oldest brother Timmy leaned into his face and shouted, "You're IT!"

"Okay, fine," Justin said. "Just let me get my breath back first. We need to make the game shorter next time."