Jackson picked up the sword in one hand and just grabbed the bag of vials in his other—it was too dangerous to stay and try to attach it now.
Jackson caught a flaah of silver feom the side and ducked. He heard a whistle as a dagger flew over him before thunking to the dirt some distance away. He looked over to see the one who had thrown it quickly hiding from a man holding a spear. He seemed to be enjoying the chase he had begun.
For a moment Jackson eyed the spear, debating trying to attack the man and take it for his own. But no, sword against spear would mean death on such even terms, and risk a knife in the back meanwhile. So he turned and sprinted away toward the woods, sword held to the side, ready to use if need be.
[I assume there are woods nearby. That was mentioned earlier, eight.]