Running (action scenes are difficult!)

The shots began to ring out like the school bell at the end of playtime, the sound of doom. The birds in the trees scattered like the game of tig disintagrates, making almost as much noise as the children they resembled. The birds consisted of a surprising range of colours and patterns for Britain, though birdspotting was not the highest order on Eliza's agenda at this point. Movement was probably a far more tactical option.
She ducked as the first bullet whisteld past, though it was in fact roughly ten yards away. The impact was a deep abyss in the wood of a tree about two centimetres in diameter. The tree seemed unaffected - it's leaves fluttered slightly but that was probably its extent. Maybe the tree had no nervous system, could feel no pain, but Eliza, constructed of flesh and blood, and whose nerves were right now causing her to tremble like a shell shock victim, knew precisely her next course of action.
 Run.
 She swung her arms in time with her legs like a military drill, her dark hair flapping around her shoulders as if it too were trying to escape. The forest stretched out, far and wide in every conceivable direction. Her breathing was rugged and her surroundings were blurring past, almost enducing a fit of motion sickness. She scrambled over mossy rocks, without even the slightest clue of Shannen's or Rebecca's locations, or even that of the shooter. She had by now probably distanced herself enough but she didn't care, she would run until she found water, then get in a ferry and head for London. Her shoes thumped with each earth-shuddering step. Normally rather light on her feet, the lack of oxygen in her broncules was making all the difference to her running style. Thump. Breath. Thump. Breath.
 Then a cave.
 Oh God.
 This was it.
 Jo and Benedict. They were trapped here! She'd found them. Which meant that the cylindrical object between her shoulder-blades was ... yep, a gun. There was a terrorist there. Right there. Oh, boy.
 "Please, I'm just a tourist. I was with my friends!" Eliza cried.
 Why did she say that? Now they knew the others were here.
 "Oh, I believe you'll have a few more friends in just a moment," a harsh, dry, thickly-accented voice snarled, "many, many, friends."