Chapter 8
CHAPTER EIGHT
EVERLY
I t’s dark tonight, but the storm that had rolled in after I’d left Serenity Falls earlier is over, meaning it won’t be raining as I make my trek through the woods in a bit. What a relief. It also means my vision is clear as my car makes a sharp turn and then another.
Driving up the abandoned detour, a road that’s been unkempt for years, is terrifying at night. But I’ve driven it multiple times and am confident enough I even risk going a few ticks faster than the speed limit allows.
The low-hanging clouds are going to provide excellent coverage for Stage Two of my Get The Hell Out of Dodge plan.
I couldn’t ask for a better night to break someone out of hell.
That’s if I can persuade Maverick to come with me tonight.
I didn’t manage to coordinate with him about how we’d meet up or where, so I’ve had to tweak my plan a bit.
Now I just have to hope he won’t follow through on his threat.
“He won’t kill me,” I mutter to myself with more confidence than I feel. My shoulders straighten and my hands grip the steering wheel harder.
I will convince him. Failing this part of the plan isn’t an option.
I have to get Maverick out of Serenity Falls.
What he does after that is on him. I’ve made sure to give Mavie everything he’ll need to start a new life; new IDs, money, this car, a fake basic resume, and I even made sure the people listed as references would actually vouch for him.
His new life is waiting for him outside those walls.
But he doesn’t have to start it alone. We could start fresh together.
My heart flutters wildly at the thought of a future with Maverick at my side. It’s a fantasy I’ve had since I was old enough to understand what love was.
Unfortunately, after this afternoon’s encounter, I’m not stupid enough to believe that’s how any of this will pan out. Once we get to the Canadian border, we’re more than likely going in separate directions. Which is fine. Expecting more than that just because I saved him is selfish and foolish.
Rounding the bend, I find the spot I’ve been looking for.
Pulling off the road into a thicket of trees, I cut the engine and let out the air in my lungs.
Unlike the last time I visited, I’ve taken the back road to get here.
This narrow, hardly used road with large potholes and cracks is a detour used as an emergency snow route and, if followed, will eventually lead to the Canadian border several hours away from here.
The alcove I’ve found to hide the car is perfect, just off the road and surrounded by leaves and low-hanging branches so that, if passed, no one will notice the Jeep.
Now I need to get the new owner of it here so he can use it.
“How am I going to do this?” I mutter to myself as I grab for the massive backpack resting in the passenger seat well.
Our initial interaction didn’t go as expected.
Although, to be fair, I wasn’t sure what to expect.
It certainly wasn’t seeing a hardened, unfamiliar version of Maverick staring back at me with loathing and distrust. The intensity of his hatred had been so suffocating that I could do nothing but sputter under Mavie’s blistering glare.
Worse yet, I hadn’t considered he’d see me as a threat sent by Father. That had really thrown me for a loop.
How, after all I did to get here, did my confrontation with Maverick end up being the hardest part of this plan?
Sure, trekking through the woods around Serenity Falls and figuring out its weak points certainly was difficult.
It’s not like I’m used to the strain of constant walking, let alone across uneven ground up a steady incline.
The first time coming out here, map in hand and a backpack full of hiking supplies hanging off my shoulders, I hated every single second of it.
My back had screamed in protest within thirty minutes.
My legs started screaming ten minutes later.
By the time I'd returned to my car, the bottoms of my feet were blistered and my shoulders were raw.
I'd only gone two miles that day—my goal had been twenty-four.
Not even that was as difficult as my confrontation with Maverick.
It took time to build the endurance and strength to make the trek and learn how to get there by foot rather than by vehicle.
Lately, I’ve had to wonder at the woman I’ve become. Running from my life? Attempting a massive rescue mission? Who am I? Where has this bravery come from? This isn’t me.
Meeting the gaze of others, holding my own, speaking my mind?
It's a challenge every day. Forcing myself to step out of my comfort zone, I'd had to ask others for help to find someone who could make the proper identification for me and then Maverick, once I knew he was alive.
He'd need it when I broke him out of here.
Given Peter's warning and the lengths Father went to keep Maverick hidden from the world, I knew he couldn't just walk free after this.
He'd have to run and hide for the rest of his life.
To do that, I had to give him a fighting chance and do all the necessary preparation beforehand.
I've met people in dark alleys, stepped into rooms with no windows and only a single door guarded by large, sketchy looking men to get the illegal documentation. But it wasn’t bravery that had driven me into those dangerous situations.
It was just sheer determination to take back my own life at first. Once I found out about Maverick, I was also determined to right a wrong.
The whole time my heart raced, my veins kept cold thanks to the fear that held me in its clutches.
The pepper spray I palmed the whole time had been my only weapon. Luckily, I never had to use it.
I’d almost rather deal with that again than face another outburst from Maverick. I can't stop seeing his face, contorted with unbridled fury, yelling at me. I've never seen someone look so ready to kill. Not even my parents would waste the energy to convey such feelings toward me.
My stomach knots. The man who had bellowed in my face, calling me a liar and manipulator, didn't resemble the Maverick I knew at all.
I stared into the cold steel gray eyes of a stranger who only saw me as a threat.
To what specifically, I'm not sure, but I didn't like it.
I'm no more a threat to him than I am to a lion or bear.
I'm just... me.
Tonight, I’m going to have to face Maverick once again and somehow convince him I’m here to break him out. Maybe, just maybe, it’s time to be wholly honest with him.
With a deep breath, I open the car door and shrug on my backpack.
Time to go break into a fancy insane asylum.
My booted feet hit the soft ground with a light thud.
I stay in a crouched position, listening for any signs of movement or life.
When I’m sure I’m safe, I straighten. Beside me is the smooth, nine-foot-tall concrete wall.
I glance at it, glad I didn’t jump from that height.
On the other side of the wall is the muted roar of the water pouring into a manmade lake.
The racing of my heart settles as I realize I made it again without falling into that ice cold water.
Knowing time is of the essence, I take off, keeping to the shadows of the trees. With so many on the property it's easy to slip from one to another.
The trek feels like it takes forever considering how cautious I’m being with each step.
I can’t make any noise, can’t be seen. Leaning into the terror and panic rattling around inside me, so powerful my whole frame is vibrating as I try to keep it in, will cause me to make mistakes.
If I allow it to consume me, I’ll get caught.
And if I get caught, I’ll lose any opportunity to save Maverick.
Father will make sure of it.
That knowledge keeps me from sprinting. I clutch the straps of my backpack tight, my knuckles white from the strain. Anxiety urges me to listen to the panic.
My steely resolve keeps me from doing so.
I approach Sortage Residence Hall from the back, emerging from the trees slowly.
There’s a courtyard out here, made of red, worn brick.
Scattered here and there are sets of nice wicker furniture that are clearly worn but not shabby.
There are a few tables and chairs too. On one surface is a box of playing cards, likely left behind by a patient.
The glow of three lamps cast the space in an orangey hue.
My gaze slides over the back of the building.
Moss is beginning to grow in the cracks of the mortar, and the bushes outside the tall, arched windows of the first floor are slightly overgrown.
The tips of the two turrets in the front of the building can be seen from back here, but just barely.
The building is three stories, but I only care about the first. I count the windows and find the one that should belong to Mavie, three from the end on my left.
“I’m coming, Maverick,” I mutter, setting my shoulders.
Drawing on every ounce of bravery I possess, I approach the double glass doors that lead inside.