Chapter 34 #3
They rounded the corner of the building, and suddenly they were more exposed. An open stretch of maybe thirty feet between them and the next structure, with nothing to hide behind if someone looked their way.
"Now," Cheryl whispered, and they ran.
Janice's boots crunched through the packed snow, each step feeling impossibly loud. The distance seemed to stretch forever, thirty feet becoming thirty miles. Every second she expected a shout or worse.
But they made it and pressed themselves against the next building, breathing hard, hearts racing. Two more buildings to pass. Then the tree line. Then the forest and whatever slim chance at survival it offered.
Cheryl peeked around the corner, checking their next route. "One more sprint, then we can move more carefully through the equipment storage area. That'll give us cover almost to the trees."
Janice nodded, not wanting to speak unnecessarily.
They moved again, this time making it between two pieces of heavy machinery. Darting around a bulldozer, Janice didn't recognize the next piece of equipment, but it also looked like it was designed for digging. The equipment provided blessed cover, and they paused there to catch their breath.
"Almost there," Cheryl breathed. "See that gap between the supply shed and the generator building? That's our path to the trees. Once we're in the forest, we make it to the creek. Then maybe you can show us the way out."
Janice looked at the tree line that was behind fifty feet of open ground. Safety was so close, if they could just reach it.
"On three," Cheryl said. "One, two—"
A door slammed somewhere behind them, and a male voice called out, "Hey! Where's Cheryl? Someone check on the prisoner!"
Janice's blood turned to ice.
"Run!" Cheryl grabbed her hand, and they bolted for the trees.
No more stealth, no more careful movement. Just desperate flight toward the forest, toward cover, toward any chance at survival.
Janice's too-large boots slipped in the snow. She stumbled and nearly went down, but Cheryl's grip on her hand kept her upright. They crashed through the first line of trees, branches whipping at their faces, snow cascading down from disturbed branches.
Behind them, shouts erupted. "They're running! Stop them!"
Janice didn't look back. She focused on moving forward, following Cheryl through the darkening forest, on putting distance between themselves and the men who would kill them if they caught them.
The forest closed around them. This wasn’t where she and Cole had crossed a few days ago, and she felt immediately turned around and lost. Ancient spruce and birch surrounded them, their trunks dark against the white snow.
Their branches formed a canopy overhead, blocking much of the sunlight.
Janice's breath came in gasping pants, her lungs burning from the cold air and exertion.
They dodged around trees, jumped over fallen logs buried in snow, scrambled up small rises and slid down the other sides. The forest floor was treacherous with hidden roots, unexpected dips, and patches of ice beneath the snow.
More shouts behind them, closer now. Their pursuers were gaining.
"Keep going," Cheryl panted. "Don't stop. They won't expect us to cross the creek. They'll think we're heading back for the road we came in on."
But Janice wasn’t sure. She could hear the crunch of boots through snow and knew they were being hunted.
A shot rang out.
The crack echoed through the trees, impossibly loud, terrifyingly close. Janice didn't know where the bullet went, but both she and Cheryl dropped into the snowbank. The message was clear. They weren't trying to capture them anymore. They were trying to kill them.
Janice's terror crystallized like the ice she landed in. She thought of Cole and the life they'd barely begun to dream about, and of all the things she'd never get to say if she died here in this frozen forest.
No, she thought fiercely. I'm not dying here. Not today. Not like this.
She ran harder, found strength she didn't know she had, pushed past the pain in her lungs and the burning in her legs and the fear threatening to paralyze her.
And somewhere in the back of her mind, she wondered if she'd ever get the chance to see Cole again. To tell him she was absolutely crazy about him. To go on dates. Get to know each other better. To find out if they really could be more… if they could be everything.
Another shot. This one was so close. Janice heard the bullet hit a tree just feet to her left, heard the crack of splintering wood.
"Keep running!" Cheryl gasped beside her. "Just keep running!"
So Janice ran, hand in hand with a woman who'd chosen redemption over complicity, running for their lives through the Alaska wilderness as gunshots echoed behind them. The creek suddenly appeared, but this wasn’t where she’d crossed before with Cole.
The creek was much wider here, and the rocks used to cross were underwater as the snow melted along the bank.
“Shit, we can’t cross!” she cried. Turning back to the woods, she pulled Cheryl along with her. “Follow me!” she cried out.
She had no idea where they were going. And prayed that somehow, somewhere, rescue was coming.