Chapter 47
Sandra grabbed Emma's hand while pulling Toby close to her side, her heart hammering against her ribs. She scanned the cornfield for any sign of pursuit, her eyes darting between the swaying stalks and the tree line beyond. The truck’s engine could be heard nearby, and she knew they needed to reach the trees so the vehicle would no longer be a threat. Only the person inside.
The corn was still early in the season, the stalks reaching only to her shoulders, but crouching, they could disappear into the green maze.
The afternoon sun slanted through the broad leaves, creating a shifting pattern of light and shadows that could either hide them or reveal their position to anyone searching.
"Stay low and stay with me," she whispered urgently, pushing through the first row of corn with Emma's hand clutched in her own.
The moment they entered the field, Sandra realized the stalks that offered concealment would also torture them.
The broad leaves sliced across her arms and face like paper razors, each cut a stinging reminder of their desperate situation.
She felt warm blood trickle down her cheek as a particularly aggressive leaf caught her across the temple.
Emma whimpered as corn leaves attacked her face, leaving thin red lines on her pale skin. Toby crouched lower, trying to stay under the leaves.
"We're almost to the trees," Sandra panted, her own face burning from dozens of shallow cuts that stung with each drop of sweat.
They stumbled through the rows, trying to stay out of sight, but the rustling of their passage through the corn seemed impossibly loud in her ears.
Every snap of a broken stalk and every whisper of leaves against fabric sounded like a beacon calling their location to anyone hunting them.
She strained to hear sounds of pursuit behind them, but couldn't filter out anything over their own desperate breathing and the constant whisper of corn leaves.
Breaking through the far edge of the cornfield, Sandra looked into the cool shade of the woods, where the truck wouldn’t be able to follow.
"Stop," she gasped, pulling both children behind the thick trunk of an oak tree. "Let me listen."
They huddled together, their chests heaving as they tried to catch their breath without making noise. Sandra pressed her back against the rough bark, her mind racing with possibilities and fears.
She strained her ears, trying to filter out the sound of her own thundering heartbeat and the children's labored breathing.
No sound of anyone crashing through the cornfield behind them reached her ears, but the rumble of a diesel engine in the direction of their abandoned car made her stomach clench with dread.
Their pursuer was still out there, probably finding out they had escaped the wrecked vehicle.
In the other direction, across a small field, Sandra caught sight of a white house.
Laundry fluttered on a line stretched between two posts, and a pickup truck sat in the gravel driveway.
She recognized where she was, having seen the house from a distance when she was traveling to or from Terry’s house.
Her mind raced through the possibilities and dangers. They could make it that distance if they stayed low and moved fast, using the scattered trees for cover. The distant rumble of the diesel engine growing closer made the decision for her.
She pulled out her phone with trembling fingers, punching at the keys. "Terry," she whispered when he answered before the first ring finished.
"Sandra, thank God. Where are you?"
His voice wrapped around her, giving her a lifeline.
"We made it to the woods, but I can see a house not too far away.
A white house on the property just down from the cornfield.
About a mile before the turnoff to get to your house.
" Her voice caught as the distant rumble of the diesel engine grew closer and more threatening.
"Terry, I can hear an engine. It might be the pickup truck. "
"Stay in the woods but move toward the house." Terry's voice came through tight with command, the cop taking over from the worried father. "Find cover but get closer to people who can help you."
In the distance, Sandra could hear sirens approaching, their wailing growing louder by the second. Help was coming, but she didn’t know if it would arrive in time.
"Kids, come on," she whispered, gathering Emma and Toby closer. "Stay with me and stay low."
Toby looked down at his bright red windbreaker and, without being told, shrugged out of it and left it hanging from a low branch. His navy blue T-shirt would blend better with the forest's shadows. The eleven-year-old's quick thinking made Sandra's throat tight with pride.
They moved through the woods in a crouched run, using every tree and patch of underbrush for cover while making their way toward the house. Sandra's thigh muscles burned from the awkward position, but she didn't dare stand upright.
Through the trees, she caught a glimpse of black metal moving slowly along the edge of the cornfield. The pickup truck prowled the perimeter while its driver was clearly determined not to let them escape.
Sandra immediately dropped to her knees, pulling both children down behind a fallen log thick with moss and decay. Her body covered theirs as they pressed against the rotting wood, trying to become invisible while the truck searched for them.
"Don't move," she breathed into Emma's ear, feeling the girl's body trembling against her own. "Don't even breathe loud."
They waited in agonizing silence as the truck continued its methodical search, the diesel engine growing louder, then softer, then louder again as it traced patterns through the field.
Sandra didn't dare relax her protective embrace.
The seconds stretched as every sound made her heart skip with terror that they'd been discovered.
Finally, the engine noise began to fade as the truck moved away. They were possibly hearing the sirens. Sandra forced herself to wait another full minute, counting the seconds in her head before daring to lift her head and scan their surroundings.
"Okay," she whispered. "We're going to keep moving toward the house. Stay behind me and stop if I stop."
They crept through the remaining woods, using every tree and bush for concealment until they reached the edge of the tree line. Across a small backyard dotted with a vegetable garden, Sandra could see a man climbing down from a parked truck.
To her amazement, she spotted the familiar Garcia Electrical logo on the side of the vehicle. Manuel!
He and a teenage boy were walking toward the house, easy smiles on their faces as they talked, until they turned at the sound of sirens in the distance.
"Run," Sandra commanded, and all three of them bolted across the open ground toward the house.
"Manuel! Help us!" Sandra shouted as they raced across the yard, her voice cracking with desperation. "Someone is after us! Please help us!"
Manuel turned in surprise, his face shifting from confusion to alarm as he took in their desperate appearance. Sandra could only imagine what they looked like with their faces striped with blood from corn cuts, clothes dirty, and terror in their eyes.
Behind them, the sound of the diesel engine was growing louder again.
"Jose!" Manuel barked to his teenage son, his voice sharp with command. "Get the kids inside! Now!"
Without hesitation, Jose ran toward them. Sandra watched as the seventeen-year-old reached Emma first, his young face serious with purpose as he grabbed her hand and pulled her close to his side.
"Stay with me," he told her, his voice calm despite the chaos approaching. As they ran toward the house, Jose positioned himself between Emma and the approaching threat, shielding her as they covered the remaining distance to safety.
Manuel grabbed Toby’s hand as the two of them ran after Jose and Emma.
Manuel kept looking back at Sandra, but she shouted that she was fine.
Manuel carried him swiftly toward the back door, where Carmen swept the young boy into her arms as she pulled him inside.
Manuel turned and moved behind Sandra as she entered the house.
"Get inside," Manuel commanded, holding open his back door with one hand. "Carmen! Carmen, call the sheriff!"
Sandra pushed through the door behind the kids, her hands shaking as she watched Jose guide Emma to safety on the far side of the kitchen, pushing her down behind the kitchen counter. Jose turned to pull Toby down next to Emma, then he braced himself over them.
"Police are already on their way,” Sandra gasped, somewhat unnecessarily, considering the sirens grew louder. “Someone's trying to hurt us. They hit our car and ran us off the road—"
Manuel grabbed a shotgun from a rack by the door, his face transforming into something hard and dangerous. The gentle electrician had become a guardian defending his territory. "Jose, keep the kids and women down. Anyone who wants to hurt them is gonna have to go through me first."
Through the kitchen window, Sandra could see the black pickup truck bouncing across the edge of the field, heading directly for the Garcia house. Her blood ran cold as she realized their pursuer wasn't intimidated by witnesses or the sound of approaching sirens.
Manuel stepped onto his back porch, shotgun raised with the confidence of a man who knew how to use it.
"That's far enough!" he shouted, his voice carrying the authority of a landowner defending his own ground.
"You're trespassing on private property!
Back off, or I'll blow a hole in your engine block! "
Jose’s arm was still protectively around Emma's shoulders while his body shielded Toby. "It's going to be okay," he told both kids quietly, his calm voice helping to settle their panic. "My dad won't let anyone hurt you."
Sandra’s gaze swung between the protected kids and the black truck still menacingly sitting in the Garcias’ yard. The truck's engine idled, but whoever was inside seemed to be reconsidering their options in the face of an armed landowner and the growing wail of sirens.
Finally, multiple sheriff vehicles converged on the farm, their sirens still screaming.
Sandra peeked around the counter to look out the window.
She could see flashing lights as they surrounded the truck.
Deputies alighted, weapons drawn, all focused on the pickup.
She shook with relief and adrenaline, but she managed to whisper, "It's going to be okay now. It's going to be okay."
An official SUV slid to a stop in the yard with a spray of gravel, followed immediately by an unmarked DTF vehicle that Sandra recognized. Her heart leaped as she saw Terry spring from the seat before the car had fully stopped, his service weapon drawn and his face a mask of controlled fury.
He'd never looked more beautiful to her than he did at that moment… strong, capable, and absolutely determined to protect his family.
"Sheriff's department! Exit the vehicle with your hands visible!" The commands echoed across the yard as deputies took tactical positions around the black pickup, their weapons trained on the cab.
Sandra watched in fascination as the truck's door opened and a figure emerged with hands raised. Even from the kitchen window, she could see that it was someone she didn't recognize. It wasn’t Harrison Blackwood, nor his son, Harry, but a stranger whose face meant nothing to her.
She couldn't take her eyes off the deputies racing forward, cuffing the driver while still shouting orders. "Your dad is here. We're safe," she whispered to Emma and Toby, hoping her heart would finally cease its frantic pounding as she turned her full attention back to the children.
They were safe. They were alive. And Terry was here.