Chapter 18 Scott
EIGHTEEN
SCOTT
The first thing I know is pain, threaded through every nerve like barbed wire. My skull feels cracked in half, the two pieces at war with one another. The world is a blur, even though I’m pretty sure my eyes are open. A groan rumbles from my chest, the sound dragging me toward total consciousness.
And with it comes a memory.
The cars outside the cabin. Their hoods gaping open like broken jaws.
My fingers numb from fumbling with wires without gloves, cursing the dead battery, and the missing one.
The silence of the surrounding forest and the way the trees pressed in closer, the longer my back was to them.
I remember leaning in deeper, trying one more connection, then the crunch of icy snow behind me.
I turned.
Nothing.
Then pain.
A crushing blow to the back of my head. My knees buckled, and the ground spun as I pitched forward into an icy abyss.
I wasn’t left there.
Something dragged me from the clearing around the house.
I saw it in flashes, jagged as lightning strikes. Branches clawing at my arms, my back bumping against frozen roots, the sky swallowed by dark boughs overhead. The rhythm of footsteps moving fast, pulling me deeper into the forest.
My body fought against me, vision tearing at the edges, and then it all went black.
Until now.
I force my eyes to remain open, the room tilting.
Ava’s voice cuts through first, high and broken, screaming my name.
My head whips toward her, but it protests, fire shooting down my spine.
I see her—not safely tucked behind the closed doors of the cabin—but trapped in a stranger’s grip, his arm wrapped around her like iron.
He holds her against his chest like she’s some treasure he’s claimed.
My chest convulses. Rage overtakes the weakness flooding me, and I push my hands against the floor, trying to rise.
“A… va.” Her name feels like crushed gravel across my vocal cords, but it’s enough to pull her eyes to mine.
She thrashes, fighting his hold, her screams ricochet against the low-sagging ceiling. Every terrified sound tears into me, spurs me forward. My body feels heavier than ever before, but I shove at the floor, my muscles shaking as I simply try to push myself upright.
He notices, whispering something against her ear.
The world sways, blackness clinging to the edges of my vision, threatening to pull me back under the murky waters. My lids close, resting for what feels like seconds, but must have been more.
When I come back to, they’re gone. Out the front door, a commotion fills the arctic air.
“Ava!” My hoarse scream crackles.
I need her to hear me. To realize I’m coming after her, no matter how long it takes me to pry my useless limbs from the ground.
I shove harder, hauling myself onto my knees, teeth clenched against the pain screaming through my ribs. My vision swims, but I keep going, because she needs me, because she’s still fighting, and I can’t let her do it alone.
Ava’s screams cut through my hazy focus.
I fight to get to my feet, but the first attempt ends with me sprawled against the mud-crusted floor. As I crawl inch by inch, the snow lights the horizon, and my fingertips meet the threshold.
Wrapping stiff fingers around the door jambs, I haul myself up, using strength I don’t have, to get my feet under me. My knees wobble, unsteady.
The silence breaks between my heaving breaths as my eyes scan the snowy embankment. Howling wind whistles through the trees, pushing dancing flakes across the icing snow. Night crept in while I was out, dragging shadows closer to the hut’s steps, engulfing the small clearing.
Something moves among the ridgeline, an obsidian blur before it disappears completely—Ava.
My achy limbs protest against every move I make. But I have to get moving. The longer I give myself to regain some semblance of control, the further she gets. It’ll be harder to find them in the dark. Harder to follow the path of his footsteps.
As if on cue, the snow picks up. Big white clumps fall faster by the second. It’s the motivation my brain needs. Shifting, I scan the hut for a weapon, but it’s empty of anything useful. There’s no axe in the corner for firewood, no shotgun on the wall for protection.
Fuck.
Stumbling down the half-demolished stairs, my eyes catch on the glint of something, half-buried against the perimeter of the house. With every step I take, my body seems to remember how to function. By the time my fingers wrap around the frozen steel, I feel almost human again.
Yanking my shotgun free, I dust the ice clinging to the stock and barrel. Breaking it, my chest heaves with relief—two shells. Two opportunities to take this fucker down and get Ava back into the safety of my arms.
The scramble of hurried footsteps has disappeared amongst the sounds of the forest and the snowstorm barreling down.
I drag a breath into my lungs, tasting blood on my tongue. My hands tremble as I close the gun, forcing myself to move through the clearing. My feet slip on the incline out of the small valley.
I can’t stop shaking. But one thought cuts through all the pain and anxiety.
He took her, and because of that, I won’t stop until he’s dead.
The silence of the woods left in their wake is unbearable. Yet, it’s not silent at all. Echoes of her screams reverberate through my skull, louder than the roar of my pulse.
I shove past the pain lancing through my ribs and drag myself to the top of the ridge. My knees threaten to give out, but I lock them into place. My breath tears ragged through my throat, every inhale biting from the cold. Sweat beads on my temple from the exertion, stinging a cut there.
Looking for his trail, I catch the outline of his bootprint, filling quickly from the falling snow.
I can only pray the deeper we go, the slower they’ll disappear with the coverage up above.
I stagger toward the next tree, using every one as a shoulder to lean on.
A place to grab a quick rest before I heave my aching bones into motion.
Night’s taken over, black and endless, the forest nothing more than a mass of tangled darkness. The snow crunches with every step, signaling my stilted approach, if he’s even bothering to care.
“Ava.” Her name slips out in a whisper.
The bitter cold worms through my layers, but I don’t stop.
My boots catch on hidden roots and pointed stones.
My vision swims every so often, a reminder of the head wound I’m ignoring and the concussion I likely have.
I force my legs to move faster, closing the distance.
One step, then another, until I’m chasing the sound of branches snapping ahead.
A faint cadence of something heavy pounding into the earth.
The forest swallows me whole. Trees crowd in closer, their black spines rising higher than the sky, blotting out even the faint smear of moonlight.
Somewhere ahead, her scream cuts through the night. My head whips to the left, heart thundering in my chest, and pumping much-needed blood through my limbs.
I lurch forward, crashing through the brush, ignoring the branches whipping my face. My coordination lacks its usual spryness, but I run anyway. The forest thickens, pressing in like it’s working against me. Like it wants him to win.
Her screams grow louder. Desperation leaks through every call to be let go, every plea of my name off her lips.
What if he somehow has a way out of here? What if I don’t get to her in time?
The possibilities throw gasoline onto my anxiety, ratcheting the fear gripping my spine. My feet pound against the snow now, finding a miraculous grip that keeps me upright.
My chest aches like it’s on fire from trying to suck in enough oxygen. Every gulp of icy air is a knife to the lungs, but Ava’s voice drives me forward.
“Ava!” I shout again, frantic for her to hear me. To know I’m on his heels.
Ahead, I glimpse movement through the trees. A sliver of red that doesn’t belong. My direction changes again, closing the distance. We have to be getting closer to the cabin, back to familiarity.
Thick limbs close in around me, forcing my pace down to a hustling walk. I crash through, unconcerned if he can hear me, until they finally break, spitting me out at the tree line around the cabin.
An eerie stillness covers the property coated in fresh-fallen snow. Tracks lead me straight to the cabin steps. A silhouette moves beyond the curtains.
Bile stings my raw throat.
She wasn’t wrong. He was watching. It’s so easy from out here with the night as a cloak and the lights burning bright from inside.
His frame is a perfect outline, slightly misshapen from Ava lumped over his shoulder. But then they’re gone.
I creep closer, not daring to take the old wooden steps that lead to the front door.
Instead, I pace around back, gun at the ready.
The bathroom is dark, and the small window is too high off the ground to crawl through.
The first bedroom, Ava’s parents’ room, is locked tight, but the second is ajar. The crack’s barely noticeable.
It’s all I need.