by Dean Murray
Hopefully?
I restrained the hysteria and gawked like a dummy as he showed me the parts of the gun and explained the basics. Chamber, safety, trigger. Point, aim, shoot. He made it sound easy, like we were about to play a friendly game of Call of Duty on the PlayStation. He seemed to debate briefly whether or not to give me the gun before he placed it with the others.
I let out a sigh of relief. Though, that ‘hopefully’ still had me a bit concerned. “If you’re telling me there’s a chance I might have to use a gun at some point, I want to know what’s going on,” I said levelly.
He shut the hatch and glanced at me. “We have to keep moving.”
I folded my arms over my chest and planted my feet. He grabbed my elbow and escorted me to the passenger door, where I expected him to throw me in like he had earlier. Instead, he opened the door and looked at me expectantly. I returned an expectant look of my own.
A muscle in his cheek twitched, and his nostrils flared as he ran a hand through his hair. “When things get a little less dicey, I’ll explain what I can, but right now I have to worry about getting us out of here alive. Think you can manage to cooperate with me a bit longer?”
I relented, only because I wanted to live to see tomorrow. “You’d better explain,” I said, the warning tone of my voice sounding feeble when directed at him.
He nodded with little promise and tilted his head at the open door.
“Masochistic asshole,” I muttered under my breath as I climbed in.
My feet barely cleared the threshold before he slammed the door shut. I had spoken so quietly, I doubted he had heard me. Not that I cared if he had.
I kept my end of the bargain and kept quiet as we descended the mountain, the narrow road no less intimidating the second time around. Luckily, it didn’t take long and we soon turned onto the gravel road. I glanced at Nathan, wondering when he would be ready to answer some questions.
“Not yet,” he said without looking at me.
I gawked at him, knowing I had to have imagined the subtle lift at the corner of his mouth when he spoke. There was no way I had glimpsed a smile. In fact, looking closer, I clearly saw a frown.
He hit the brakes, and brought the Jeep to a sliding stop. The shoulder belt caught across my chest and pinned me to the seat. Nathan’s frown deepened and I followed his gaze, my heart racing at his alarm. I saw nothing other than gravel, trees, and tiny dust particles floating in the headlights. He grumbled under his breath as he turned in his seat to look out the rear window.
“What?” I asked him.
“Hold on,” he muttered as he shifted into reverse.
My head snapped forward when he punched the gas and jerked the wheel. He pulled off an impossibly tight turn, and within seconds we were speeding back the way we had come. A moment later, a bright light spilled through the back window and filled the interior. In the mirror, I saw quickly advancing headlights behind us.
They had been right there, waiting for us—and he had known.
The lights were large, and bright, and so close I thought they were going to ram us. The Jeep’s engine roared as it picked up speed, and they fell back. Barely. I turned in my seat and saw that it was a large truck. Unfortunately, something capable of keeping up with us.
“Stay down,” Nathan ordered as he pushed my head behind the seat.
I peeked at the speedometer. The needle hovered at seventy, but it felt like a hundred. I didn’t see the turnoff for the dirt non-road until we were past it, and glanced at Nathan, wondering if he had meant to pass it.
Of course he had. Granted, there was a good chance the truck would have slid off the side of the mountain, but if not, at the top was a dead end. We still had the advantage. Nathan knew the road better than they did, and the distance between us grew by the second.
At the appearance of headlights approaching from the other direction, Nathan pushed the gas harder. I braced in my seat, hoping his plan was not to play chicken, and stared down the advancing lights.
They were coming fast. Thirty yards.
Twenty.
Ten. They were so close I saw two occupants in the front seat of a large black truck.
Five yards. My eyes squeezed shut.
With a jerk of the wheel, Nathan sent the Jeep careening sideways onto a hidden side road. I was thrown into the door, and forced to stare at the headlights bearing down on me outside my window. Restrained by my seatbelt, unable to move away, I turned away from the impact I knew was coming.
They never hit. The headlights zipped by, missing us entirely. We were going too fast for the turn and the tires spun as they fought for grip. Nathan wrestled the wheel and somehow managed to not veer off the road or flip us.
I turned in my seat, hoping to see the two trucks collide. The one behind us bounced over a ditch, managing to avoid the oncoming truck. Unlike us, he had lost no momentum making the turn, and slammed into the side of the Jeep. The impact threw us into a spiral.
We came to a stop, facing the way we had come. Nathan shifted gears and accelerated, leaving the truck as it spun behind us. He cut the corner, launching us across the ditch, back onto the gravel road, where the second truck had turned around and was now coming back. We raced past them, and left them in a cloud of dust as they slid to a stop.
Nathan whooped as we sped away. I gaped at him in awe, wondering how he had managed to pull off that miracle. He glanced at me, and I could tell from the look on his face that he was as surprised as I was.
His eyes darted to the rearview mirror as both sets of headlights appeared behind us. He pressed on the gas. We had a sizeable lead. We could outrun them. So long as he didn’t screw up the driving too badly—and I highly doubted that would happen—we had a chance.
As we passed the turn-off for the dirt road again, I felt a ripple of hope. Ten minutes to civilization. As fast as he was driving, maybe five minutes.
I glanced out the rear window. “We’re losing them,” I called to Nathan excitedly.
His gaze lifted to the rearview mirror. Instead of lighting with excitement like mine, his eyes darkened with apprehension. His foot eased off the gas.
Since I was looking at him, I didn’t see the third truck. I saw its headlights fill the Jeep’s interior, saw Nathan tense and reach for me. Then they slammed into us.
The Jeep rolled side over side at least twice before it struck something big and sturdy—probably a monster tree. It swayed at an unsteady angle before it flipped back and came to a rest on its side. My side was up, with the nose of the Jeep tipped down, which left me elevated and pressed against my restraints. I fumbled with them, disoriented as I tried to force my shaky fingers to work. I had a really bad sense of déjà vu.
Nathan appeared beneath me, already out of his seatbelt. He unhooked my restraints, and his arms slipped around me to stop my plummet into the windshield below. I barely managed to get my feet under me before he started to push me toward the rear of the Jeep.
“Go, go, go,” he ordered as he shoved me up and between the seats. The Jeep teetered as our weight concentrated to the back.
“Are we on a cliff or something?” I shrieked at him.
Two sets of headlights approached, but they did nothing to illuminate the mile-high ledge I was certain we were balancing on the edge of.
“Ditch,” Nathan answered quickly. He nudged past me to release the hatch, and sent the Jeep into a stomach-hurling rock.
I wanted to know how he was so sure it wasn’t a cliff, but he pushed me out the back before I had a chance to ask. I was convinced I was falling to my death for all of the very long second it took me to drop to the ground. I hadn’t expected to hit land so soon, and rolled my ankle.
Sure enough, I was in a ditch. The nose of the Jeep was wedged in it sideways, which caused the back end to jut up in the air. It, at least, provided us with cover from our pursuers on the other side, who I could now hear getting out of their vehicles.
I looked up, saw Nathan’s outline above me,
and moved out of the way as he dropped to the ground beside me. He landed much more gracefully than I had. But then, it wasn’t a fair comparison, considering he had all but tossed me out. He had managed to gather a few guns from under the floor board, and had a pistol in each hand, a third in his holster, and a shot gun at his feet.
Our eyes met briefly as we scanned each other. His hat was gone, and I saw a streak of blood on his forehead. Otherwise, he appeared uninjured. Once he was assured I was unharmed, he scooted to the edge of the Jeep and peeked around the corner. I moved aside as he crept by me to survey the situation from the other side. After he saw what he had to see, he sat with his back against the Jeep’s undercarriage, and lifted his eyes to mine slowly.
He swept a hand through his hair. I swallowed hard, wondering what he had seen to put that look on his face.
He joined me where I crouched and his eyes seared into mine. “I need you to run,” he said, nodding his head to my left.
I surveyed the steep embankment and the edge of the woods just beyond it. We could slip in there and be long gone before they realized it.
“Run fast and straight. Don’t stop for anyone but me,” he continued urgently.
I nodded my understanding, and then cowered when gun shots rang out. They were shooting blindly at the Jeep as they worked their way around it. I heard the gravel crunching under their shoes as they approached.
“Go!” Nathan gave me a shove.
I stared at him, realizing for the first time that he wasn’t planning to join me.
“Go! I’ll find you! Go!”
I clambered up the embankment as he returned fire. Once I reached the tree line, I turned back and saw that he had drawn their attention to himself, and my retreat had gone unnoticed. I also saw that he was outnumbered four to one. I reluctantly backed up a few steps into the cover of the woods, not wanting to leave him, but unable to do anything else.
I would only be a distraction. I would only hurt his chances.
That was what I told myself when I ran. I had no other options other than to do what he said, and hope that he would be right behind me.
CHAPTER 7
The woods were too dark to see the low hanging branches and protruding roots until I ran into, or tripped over them. Again and again, I hit the ground, skinning my hands and knees. Every time, I got up and hoped I was still running in a straight line. I felt like I had run a marathon by the time I doubled over, gripped the stitch in my side, and tried to catch my breath.
If only I had known that one day I would have been forced to run for my life, I might have put more effort into gym class this year. As it was, my lack in preparation resulted in me stopping every few minutes to whine, and wheeze, and talk myself into doing it all over again.
The pop-popping of gunshots echoed behind me. As scary as that sound was, I got relief in knowing that as long as I heard shooting, Nathan was alive. What troubled me was the rustling my ears picked up between the roar of gunshots. Every time I stopped, whatever it was sounded closer. Something behind me. Something big. Something that was coming fast.
Unless those guys back there were shooting at each other, it couldn’t be Nathan.
I dropped my head and ran. I pushed forward until my legs felt like jelly, until my throat was raw, my breaths were coming in short ragged gasps, and I was certain my heart was about to explode. When I could go no farther, I dropped to my knees and listened.
The unmistakable sound of heavy footsteps that crashed through the woods behind me was now too close for me to outrun. My only option was to hide and hope whoever it was ran past me. Then, I could backtrack and find Nathan.
I scampered behind a fallen tree a few yards away and peeked over it to watch for my pursuer. Only then did I realize I no longer heard gunshots. Either I had run out of range, or the battle was over.
Who had taken the last shot?
Nathan. Of course it was Nathan. It had to be Nathan. It would be really awesome if it was him running through the woods after me. I wasn’t optimistic.
There was a separation in the tree canopy that allowed just enough moonlight through for me to watch as a man I immediately knew was not Nathan drew closer. He slowed as he approached, like he knew I was near.
He was tall and fit like Nathan, but that was where the similarities ended. He was even scarier looking than the others, with unnaturally pale skin enhanced by the moonlight and dark empty voids for eyes that meticulously scanned the area. When he turned in my direction, I lowered behind the tree. I hated to not keep my eyes on him, but I couldn’t risk letting him see me. I stayed down long enough for his gaze to shift away from me before I lifted my head.
He was gone. My eyes darted around, desperately trying to locate him. I strained to hear one footstep, one snapping twig, one heavy breath. I heard nothing.
“Boo.”
I jumped away from the voice inches from my ear, and a scream rose up in my throat as I spun around, coming face to face with him. His eyes were no longer empty voids, but burning golden nuggets. They could have been tiny flames, and I was staring into the very pits of hell.
With a humorless laugh, he lunged for me. His grip was tight as it clamped around my waist, and he hoisted me up in one arm like I was a ragdoll. His free hand covered my mouth to smother my screams as he lugged me back toward the road.
I dug my heels into the ground, trying to slow our progress, but my feet ineffectively dragged behind me. I drove my fingernails into his arms in an attempt to inflict enough pain for him to loosen his hold. When that didn’t work, I went for his face. He shifted and tightened his grip so that I couldn’t even do that. I struggled to breathe with his viselike clutch around my chest, and that only intensified my desperation. I kicked my feet at his, and he stumbled slightly.
I did it again and again, struggling in his grasp. My breaths came in shallow gasps as his grip tightened. Finally, my persistence paid off. One of my feet got under his, and he toppled over, face first. He lost his hold on me as he went down. I landed on my knees and got up before he did. I ran, and hoped it was in the right direction.
Toward Nathan. More than anything, I hoped he was alive.
I heard the man-beast-thing behind me, closing the distance. I pumped my legs faster and harder to keep ahead of him. My chest burned for air, my vision blurred, and my ankle throbbed. I ignored it all. I had to outrun him. If he caught me, I was dead.
His fingers grazed my back, and then caught the heel of my foot. I stumbled and fell forward, smashing my face into the ground. The impact pushed the air from my lungs. I recovered quickly and crawled to my knees, but it wasn’t fast enough.
He was on me before I could get up. He flipped me over onto my back and lowered his face to mine. His lips twisted into a sinister grimace. The golden flames in his eyes surged. His breath smelled like death, and made me gag.
I struggled to squirm out from under him. He pressed a knee into my chest and threw his other leg over the both of mine, pinning me to the ground with his weight. He held both my hands above my head in one of his and, with his free hand, gripped my chin, forcing me to look up at him. From the look on his face, I knew that he planned to kill me right then and there.
Despite the knee pressed into my lungs, I got a big enough gulp of air to scream for Nathan. I only managed part of his name before I was backhanded in the mouth. It hurt enough to bring me up short. Temporarily.
I writhed beneath him and yelled again. This time, I got the whole name out before I received another smack to the face. Tears sprung up in my eyes, partly from the pain. Mostly out of frustration. Where was Nathan? I didn’t want to consider the possibility that he was already dead. If he was, I would be next. He was my only hope.
“Nathan! Nathan!”
It was pure fear that pushed his name out of my lungs as the beast on top of me clobbered me over and over. Finally, he clamped his hand over my mouth, shoving my cries back down my throat. When his hand shifted to pinch my nose shut, I bucked und
er him and shook my head from side to side. He was too strong for me. Nothing worked. The hand stayed.
The freak was going to smother me!
I didn’t want to die this way—alone, on the cold forest floor, at the hands of a monster. Adrenaline surged, and kicked me into warrior-mode. I worked my mouth open, got a chunk of his palm between my teeth, and clamped down—with everything I had.
“Argh!” He pulled his hand back.
I sprung out from under him, and kicked him in the stomach while he reeled from the bite. The kick barely fazed him, but it didn’t matter. Someone whizzed by me and slammed into him, allowing me to wriggle free. I watched the two shadowy figures wrestle on the ground in front of me. It was too dark, and they moved too fast, to tell who was who. One of them had to be Nathan. I hoped one of them was Nathan.
One finally gained the upper hand, flipped the other onto his back, and drove a knife down. A wet gurgled cry pierced the night as the one on top plunged the knife deeper. Then deeper still until the nightmarish noises stopped. I held my breath as the body disintegrated.
The remaining shadow turned to me. I scurried backward, suddenly afraid that I had been wrong, and it wasn’t Nathan. It was too dark. I couldn’t see him clearly. And he hadn’t said anything.
Why hadn’t he said anything?
Whoever it was grabbed my arm, and I screamed. My foot connected with something soft. There was a grunt, followed by Nathan’s strained voice, “Easy. It’s me. It’s okay.”
I froze in relief. He inched closer and I saw his face. His eyes.
I lunged forward, and stunned both of us when I threw my arms around his neck. This time, I didn’t care if he saw or heard me cry. I was so happy he was alive and, because of him, so was I.
The biggest surprise of the evening—and trust me, there had already been some whoppers—was that Nathan didn’t immediately brush off my fragile emotional state. He let me cry on his shoulder until his shirt was sullied to the point of humility, and I was the one who eventually withdrew, eyes diverted from his.