Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 63165 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 316(@200wpm)___ 253(@250wpm)___ 211(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63165 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 316(@200wpm)___ 253(@250wpm)___ 211(@300wpm)
We crest a bare shoulder. The ridge breaks, and I can see the road through the trees in a gray slash. Troopers have set out cones. Volunteers hold flashlights and talk.
I drop to a knee behind a stump and take ten seconds to breathe. I rub a hand over my face, and it comes away cold and damp. For a second, the edges blur, then snap back sharp. I hate it. Yuri drops beside me and says nothing. He can read me without words.
“She’s ahead of him,” I say.
“Looks that way,” he says. He doesn’t add the part I’m dreading. How long can she stay ahead of him? How far behind are we? For all we know, he’s found her and killed her already.
“She’s tough,” he says after a minute. “She’s not going down without a fight. She might take care of him before we can.”
I nod and stand, knowing we don’t have the luxury of time to contemplate her possible fate. All we have is hope.
“North to base. We’ve got fibers on a thorn, gray knit, and a fresh scrape on bark at shoulder height. Direction holds east.”
“Copy,” I say. “All teams hold verbal. Call clicks only unless you have eyes. Marcus has ears. He’ll be listening for us the same way we’re listening for him.”
We tighten the circle and keep moving.
We climb into a boulder field. The stones are slick and black. The cracks hold leaves and water. It smells like iron, cold dirt, and crushed fern. I’m reminded of the survival-skills classes my father forced me to take. He would always say, “You never know when you’ll need them.” For once, I’m glad for his harsh instruction.
The deer line forks. One path goes high to a rocky lip and a better view. The other cuts low toward a run of saplings where you can move faster. I split us again with hand signs. I take high with Yuri. It gives me an angle and a chance to see over.
At the lip, I drop and crawl the last four feet. I look over the edge. The woods open to a shallow bowl and then lift. I see a shape move between two trunks and then stop. It’s a lone man. It’s got to be Marcus.
I flatten and breathe. I could shoot from here, but I probably wouldn’t hit him. It would only give him the advantage of knowing where I am. It would take me five minutes to get down to where he is, and by then he’ll be long gone.
I look at Yuri. He looks at me. He can see I’m split down the middle, and he puts his hand on the back of my neck and presses once, like he wants to push the rage back into the box.
“We’re going to get her,” he says. “Stay with me.”
I nod, and we take off in the direction I saw Marcus. We move along the line as fast as we dare, picking our way down the slippery slope. I catch sight of a dark figure below, moving closer to me but not seeing me. He must see something, though, because he takes off running. I train my eyes where he’s going and catch a smaller figure in the distance.
It’s her. It has to be her. And she’s too far for me to reach her. Safety be damned, I take off running down the hill as fast as my feet can carry me. He’s not going to get to her before I do.
He doesn’t get to decide how this story ends.
I do.
27
MARI
The forest is darker than I thought possible. Every sound is right on top of me, like the trees are closing in. My lungs burn as I run. My wrists are still sore from being bound behind my back. At least I managed to cut the zip tie. I can’t imagine how awful it would be trying to navigate this dark path with my hands trapped. Branches tear at my clothes and skin. I taste blood where I bit my tongue during the crash. The air is cold and sharp, alive with the smell of dirt and pine.
I don’t stop. I can’t. If I stop, Marcus will catch me. I know he survived the crash. I’m not lucky enough to believe he’s still dead in the car. But I bought myself some time, and if I can hold on until morning without him finding me, I can find help when the sun comes up.
The crash keeps replaying as I run. I remember the screech of metal, the violent jolt, the glass exploding around me. Cole screamed, Marcus cursed, and then everything went silent.
I saw a branch punch through the windshield, but I didn’t stick around to examine it. If Cole isn’t dead, he won’t survive without serious medical intervention. My legs are sore from bracing against the back of his seat, and I cut my wrist when I snapped the zip tie against a jagged edge of the guardrail. Otherwise, I’m okay.