Chapter 23 – Ava Jade #2
The skin from my wrist up the underside of my forearm was just…gone. Open and raw, a mosaic of colors that didn’t belong. Black and pink and red and seeping yellow.
Not a fucking chance I was touching that.
I dry heaved, but managed to choke down the urge to vomit, looking away.
A blinking red light down the hall drew my eye and I stared into the lens of a camera there, knowing somewhere, on the other end of it, Drake was alerted to my escape. That he was probably watching me right now.
How long would it take him to get back from wherever he went? Could he remotely engage some kind of lock? Shit.
It didn’t matter, I wasn’t going to be here when he got back. No fucking way. I’d let the whole place burn and walk through the ashes to get free if I had to, mortality be damned. I’d become something else, something more to make sure this bastard got what he deserved in the end.
The sound of glass shattering from the heat in the room I left spurred me into action, and I spared only one glance back at the tongues of flame licking from beneath the door before smiling wide for the camera and taking off down the hall.
My legs protested the sudden movement, but I pushed them to work .
We were built for this.
We were made to run .
And this time, he wouldn’t catch me.
The door at the end of the hall was locked, but beyond it, through a small rectangular window, I could see a set of dirty stairs leading up. Out.
I leaned back and threw the force of my body into the door, but it didn’t budge, and the aches in my body intensified to the point of nearly losing consciousness. The tweezers clattered to the floor, and I rushed to pick them back up, my panic-addled mind assessing the lock.
Old school. A key lock with a wide chamber.
I bent the tweezers back over my knee, prying them back and forth until they snapped into two pieces, each with a sharp, pointed end, and bent to my knees.
Picking locks was never my forte. It was Dad’s specialty. Today, it was going to have to be mine.
The hallway began to fill with smoke as I worked. Great black clouds of it rolled over the ceiling, spreading fast in my direction. The fire spreading beyond the door to the cell he’d kept me in.
I hoped it consumed everything. Every nook and cranny of this accursed place needed to burn.
The lock clicked in protest at my advances, and I coughed raggedly, my lungs aching at the smoke working its way ever lower.
I closed my eyes, pressing my cheek against the still-cool metal of the door to steady myself, letting every sense other than touch fall away. Willing my trembling hands to still as they worked.
The lock made a loud clack, and I held the broken bits of metal tweezer in place, reaching for the handle, praying.
It opened, and if it weren’t for the need for clean air battering at my rib cage I’d have paused to give Drake the finger through the camera.
I tripped up the steps, letting the heavy door fall closed behind me, one of the two long, sharp bits of metal still in my hand, wielded like a hunter’s knife as I clutched the railing, hauling myself all the way up.
The darkness in the tight space was lined with a slice of light carving the stairs in two. Ahead, slanted wood doors lay nose to nose, and sun pushed through between them.
The sun .
I smiled to myself, burning tears from the smoke still tracking down my cheeks.
Unthinking I tried to lift the wood door with my left arm and screamed at the contact with the wounds there.
“Fuck!”
I pushed through with my right, bare feet leaving hard cement in favor of soft earth. Thick brush stood in my way on the other side, and I needed to claw through to get free, biting my lower lip to keep from screaming as it scratched along my wounds.
I fell to my knees in the dirt, twisting to look back at the hole in the ground I’d just crawled out of.
You’d never know it was there unless you were looking for it.
The worn wood of the cellar doors blended seamlessly with the rest of the overgrowth and the ruddy color of the forest floor all around.
Spinning in a small, slow circle, I took in my surroundings, finding nothing but trees as far as I could see in any direction. I could hear nothing but the chirp of birdsong. The hum of insects.
I found my footing, wincing as the burns along my arm protested the sudden temperature change. The warmth of the daytime sun clung to the forest, even here in the shade, and I sucked air in through my teeth as its humid heat washed over my chilled skin.
If this door was the only way in, then there had to be some sign of which way would lead me out. A road. A path. A tiny ass foot trail. There had to be something.
There!
But as I found my footing again, I realized the one weaving trail of hard packed earth leading away to the right would be the way Drake would likely use to come back, which he was surely already on his way to doing.
I couldn’t go that way.
The sun pierced through the leafy canopy above, but I couldn’t use it to place myself. I’d been underground too long. Had no sense of direction. No landmarks to orient myself. I had no fucking clue which way would carry back to them.
If I went the wrong way, I could wander for days and find nothing.
There were more than a few places in northern Cali where even the most knowledgeable hikers could get lost. This could be a fucking nature reserve.
Like in that true-crime horror movie Becca and I watched a few weeks ago.
That monster had hidden his victims in a hole in the ground a lot like the one I just crawled out of too.
Maybe Drake was taking notes from Netflix hits.
I stepped in what I thought was a northern direction but hesitated, not wanting to be food for local wildlife, not after finally getting free.
I can wait here , my darkness reasoned. Let him think I’d escaped. Come rushing back. Right into a trap of my own.
I laughed at the absurdity of it, looking at the measly bit of semi-sharp metal in my hand and literally nothing else. I could hardly stand.
Revenge would have to wait.
Besides. Rook and Grey deserved their pound of flesh, too. I wouldn’t take that from them.
“This way,” I decided, pressing deeper into the trees when I heard the familiar blare of a train’s horn, coming from somewhere far off through the denser wood to my left. I stopped to listen more intently, needing to be sure I hadn’t imagined the sound.
The horn sounded a second time. Then a third. Then stopped.
I smiled.
If there was a train, then there were tracks. And tracks always led to civilization. I just had to find them.
My feet stung after miles of heading in what I fucking prayed was the right direction.
As much as I wanted to, I couldn’t mark my progression through the forest to avoid going in circles.
If I did, Drake would be able to follow my path.
And I was working hard to keep that concealed.
Doubling back to take a new route every mile or so.
Walking through streams when I could. On top of logs.
I was painfully aware of how slow I was going. Entirely unable to run or even walk at a decent pace. Every step felt like wading through water. Or mud.
I stopped being hungry long before my escape and I knew that wasn’t good.
I could go at least three weeks without food and stay alive, but not without sacrificing energy and strength.
The mushrooms and berries of the forest were tempting, but I wouldn’t go down like the dude from Into the Wild. Nope.
That wasn’t the way to go.
So I settled for sips of stream water, hoping I didn’t get sick from it, shivering at the glacial temperature made colder by the rapidly declining temp as day twisted into night.
My eyes fought to close, legs twin pillars of pure strain .
Nearly falling, I caught myself on the trunk of a tree, the jarring blow of the rough bark enough to rattle my consciousness back to the present. Away from the jaws of exhaustion.
If only the damned train would go by again, I could orient myself. See if I was going the right way, still. It felt like the right way, but everything looked the same.
A dark shape crouched far ahead, quivering between two thick-trucked redwoods and I froze, half tucked behind the tree I’d run into. My breath fogged in the air, obstructing my view, and I clamped my lips shut.
Gooseflesh rose on my arms.
Oh shit.
I patted the tatters of the t-shirt hanging from my body, searching uselessly for the long bit of metal tweezer no longer in my hand. I scanned the dark forest floor, but no metal glinted in the moonlight.
When I looked up again, the large shape stared back at me with reflective eyes.
I turned to run, my foot catching hard on a tree root that sent me whipping to the ground. My temple connected with hard stone, and I blinked slow, a ringing in my ears as the moon darkened… darkened… until there was nothing.
I came to with a pounding in my head, itchy dried blood tight over my forehead and down my cheek. A weak groan left my lips when I pushed myself to sitting, many fingers and toes numb from the chill in the evening air.
Evening? How long had I been out?
Orange light stained the ground. My straining eyes struggled to make sense of my surroundings, blinking through a gnawing sensation of danger biting at the back of my thoughts.
I pushed up from the cold earth, teeth chattering as I found my footing again.
Dried blood flaked away from my skin as I felt the new injury just above my temple, prodding the area to assess the damage. My pinched eyes flew open at the memory of what sent me tripping in the dark.
I whirled around, a shaky laugh falling from my lips at the moss covered boulder squatting fifteen yards away between two tall redwoods. I shook my head, wincing when that shook loose another shooting pain through my temple.
Now which fucking way was it?
“Guys,” I asked, holding my breath as I awaited a reply from the madness in the voices of my guys. “I could use a little help.”
In answer to my call, a train’s horn sounded, loud enough to vibrate in my rib cage.
I darted through the trees, rushing toward the sound despite the protest of my body. Without caring about covering my tracks. I wasn’t going to lose it this time. No fucking way.
“Come on, bitch,” I urged myself, Ignoring the burn in my limbs. The pounding in my head. The desperate, desperate need for rest. The darkness consumed it all, spreading fresh adrenaline like a salve over my entire being.
I pushed my legs harder. Faster. Letting the sensation of flight as I soared over the earth, catapulting over fallen logs and darting around trees to provide me with the only fuel I needed to keep going.
Flashing images of my guys stood in the forest all around me, watching as I soared past them. Vanishing as soon as I turned my head.
Not real.
They’re not real.
The echo of the horn faded, leaving me in the wide wild wood alone.
“No!”
I kept on in the same direction, not altering my path. So focused on keeping my body moving, I didn’t notice the steep drop in the terrain or the break in the trees before it was too late. I sailed over the edge and slid on my knees over a bed of sharp gravel, my body flung against a hard iron bar.
Pain exploded in my rib cage and I curled in on myself, feeling the vibrations of the hit deep, deep down.
No. Not the vibrations of the blow to my ribs.
I gripped the iron track I’d landed on, feeling the rattle of the oncoming train a second before the horn blared again. The great metal beast charged from around a bend in the track, coming at me head on.
“Fuck!”
I ducked and rolled out of the way, scrambling backward over the gravel just as the train sped past, making my hair lash against my cheeks.
I tipped my head back, laughing up at the sky. The next curse out of my lips a much softer one. I fucking did it. And what was more. I knew these tracks. The train passed and I stepped into its wake, staring after it until its tail vanished around the next bend.
These tracks carved a path through Lennox. I caught movement from the corner of my eye and I fell back, whirling to see my father, pale and ghastly, crouched between the tracks.
I squeezed my eyes shut. Opened them again.
He was gone.
Jesus Christ.
I was losing it.
I shook my head, trying to get my rational brain working again. If I followed the tracks, they’d lead me to the trailer park on the outside of town where I’d lived with both my parents before Mom took off and Dad bit it.
And if I followed them a little farther, they’d take me past the spot where I’d taken my first life.
The night that set this whole goddamned mess in motion.
But I wasn’t going to be taking a trip down memory lane today. Fuck no. The past was finished and I had too much to live for—too much to do —in the present.
I stepped off the tracks to the west, climbing the short bank back up into the woods on the other side, picking my way toward the road I knew wasn’t more than five more miles away.