Chapter 15
A dark forest stretches in every direction.
I’m shaking hard. Calm. Down. Try to breathe slowly. This must be shock. Or whatever they pumped into me, because I’m not right.
The forest doesn’t feel real. The trees are too tall. Black pillars stretching endlessly upward into a night sky I can’t see.
They swallow what little light exists until the darkness feels thick, pressing in from all sides.
Trying to slow my breathing, I force myself to stay still, but my muscles scream to run.
The air is damp and cold as it fills my lungs. But that feels vague too. Lifting a hand, I touch my face.
Weird. Feels plastic.
Not good.
But my heart is working. More specifically thudding. Reverberating to my hands and feet.
For a split second, I swear something shifts between the trees. I blink hard, trying to make my vision steady. There’s nothing there.
I should tell Ryker how out of it I feel. But what would I even say?
It wouldn’t matter. There’s nothing he can do. He already knows I’m a liability. There’s no way I can outrun six men with weapons in a pitch-black forest I’ve never been in before.
My night vision is still ruined from the lights, but I sense Ryker the instant he steps into the woods behind me.
Sensing like a new radar that’s wired directly to him.
The gigantic SEAL is on me a second later, having no trouble locating me in the dark.
A muscular arm bands around my waist and drags me back against his warm, solid chest. A column of incredible strength.
I collapse backward into him, biting my lip to stop it from trembling.
He rubs a hand up and down my arm. “I’m here.”
“Thank god,” I rasp.
His hand stops moving on my arm. But it’s more than that. He’s completely, unnaturally still.
His grip tightens slightly around my waist as his head shifts, slowly scanning. Only this is so much more. Like every part of him is reaching outward into the darkness, sensing.
A cold ripple slides down my spine. There’s a kick to my pulse. An unsteady feeling in my chest.
I can’t believe the organ has survived everything it’s been through.
When I squeeze his arm, the tension snaps and he makes a rough noise as his hand rises to my throat, testing the collar. Inspecting it, but being careful about it.
“Can you get it off?”
“It’s a tracking collar with a camera. They’re listening.”
“Great.” The weight around my neck suddenly feels tighter. Choking me.
He was already angry, but by the time he finishes analyzing the thick plastic ring, rage is vibrating through him.
This is worse. It’s all a nightmare. When the hitch catches in my chest, he whispers next to my ear. “Shhh. We’re strong together. I’m trained for this.”
I nod, too choked up to reply.
He slides his hand down to mine, our blood mixing together as he folds his fingers around my own.
“Together.”
There’s utter conviction in his voice.
I whisper back, “Til death or victory.”
“Time to move. We have twenty minutes,” he adds as he lifts his wrist, showing me his tactical watch. “Careful what you say. Don’t touch the collar.”
That’s all the warning I get before I’m dragged into motion, heading right into the heart of a monstrous, impossibly dense forest.
Within minutes, I’m panting, trying to keep up. Blinking constantly to try to improve my night-vision.
“Do you think they’re really giving us twenty minutes?”
“No.”
Same thing I thought.
The collar bites into my neck with every step, a reminder they’re watching which only fuels my anger.
Those bastards. Cameras. Tracking devices. Six against two.
“Where are we?” I ask through clenched teeth, trying to stop myself from stumbling.
“These are redwood trees. That means we’re in Northern California.”
Did they fly us here?
My stomach flips over. Whoever did this is powerful. Demented for sure, but they have resources.
“Why here?”
“It’s very remote. History of illegal activity that people ignore,” he mutters.
Apparently hunting humans.
That’s horrific enough, but this forest feels different. Darker. Quieter. Bigger. An animal that’s part of the hunt too.
“There are no grizzlies here,” Ryker tells me as he humorlessly, tugging me up a steep incline at shocking speed.
“Gee, one less thing to worry about,” I pant.
“There are mountain lions.”
“Not helping right now.”
He squeezes my fingers, “They don’t like to hunt people. Especially in pairs. Deer are much easier prey.”
“Oh good. So we only have to worry about humans armed to the teeth.”
In my desperate attempt to keep up, to keep my soles down, and not pass out from exertion, I almost miss that Ryker is zigzagging us right, then left. Never a straight line for more than a few seconds.
Ferns and plants claw my legs, twigs catch my arms. My muscles burn, my pulse pounds in my temples.
God bless Texas, his legs are long.
The man’s like a mountain goat. Going uphill fast enough that I’m panting like a dog that’s been playing fetch. Not the way to hide from someone trying to catch us. They’ll hear me a mile away.
“I’ll be more mindful,” Ryker rumbles, when he realizes how hard I’m struggling, slowing his steps.
“You’re trying to save our lives. Screw mindful.”
“Fair point.”
We continue on. Climbing higher.
Oh! My foot catches in a hole. “Ouch!”
The only thing that keeps me from face planting is Ryker’s reflexes. He grabs me.
“You hurt?”
He steadies me with one hand, crouching down to look at my ankle. Gently moving it from side to side.
“I’m fine,” I promise him. “Let’s keep moving.”
He stands looking down at me through the darkness and the cost of this is etched in his face.
“I can carry you.”
“Not yet.” I push him forward, if you can call it that, because he’s twice my size. “I’m good.”
We haven’t gone more than fifty feet when Ryker stops abruptly, his frame rigid, an inky outline in the night.
My entire body breaks out in goosebumps.
“Listen,” he whispers.
I strain in the darkness. But the roaring in my veins, the static electricity of panic drowns everything out.
Please don’t let it be a hunter.
Ryker lifts my palm and scratches his fingertip over the palm. Tracing a message.