Chapter 18 Lissa #2
At the hint of daybreak, with the first sliver of sun peeking over the horizon, she gave in to futility, packed, and hit the road.
She enjoyed the peace of the morning, the mist burning off the fields as she walked.
The landscape switched back to low, rolling hills, providing more interesting scenery, which served as a distraction.
She yawned, forcing herself to keep a steady pace, despite the ache in her tired muscles.
Lissa might be running on fumes, but she still appreciated the surrounding beauty, much she wouldn’t have seen whizzing by in a car.
She liked the slower mode of travel. Once, she would’ve grown impatient at the pace, but she’d learned better in the days since the asteroid.
To pass the time, she imagined the expression on Cam’s face when she arrived.
She hoped he would be surprised, even pleased to see her.
Daylight arrived with silvery, overcast skies, creating a sharp glare burning her tired eyes.
She fished out her sunglasses, sighing with relief as they reduced her squinting.
Despite the dark glasses, a low-grade headache built as the day passed.
It might be due to lack of sleep, stress, or even the beginning of dehydration.
Though she’d boiled water and refilled her canteens last night, she’d been rationing her water intake.
Though she hurried, Lissa wasn’t sure she would make it to xTerra before dark. Her feet sore, her muscles ached, and today, blisters had appeared on both heels. She lost track of time, just setting one foot in front of the other and pushing on.
Suddenly, a low whining background noise registered, bumping her from her daze.
She glanced around before spinning in a slow circle, trying to pinpoint the origin.
Despite hills in places, her immediate area was flat, with few trees and no buildings.
While in position to see approaching vehicles, there was also nowhere to hide.
Her pulse skyrocketed. The sound grew louder from the right.
Time to get off the road.
With a quick breath, she darted left, across the slope of loose gravel at the shoulder.
She skidded down the bank into the muddy ditch.
Ducking low, she slipped through a rusting barbed wire fence strung beside the highway.
She glanced over her shoulder. Nothing yet.
She sprinted for a slight rise where sprinkled bushes might provide cover.
Reaching them, she dropped, sliding off her pack.
She rested it beside her in the tall dead grass.
She lay flat, feeling the pounding of her heart against the cold, damp ground.
Her jacket and pants became wet as she lay unmoving.
The engine sounds grew louder. She peeked through the bushes again, then dipped low.
Several vehicles approached, traveling together.
They rose and then disappeared, following the contours of the road.
Despite the distance from her vantage point, she held her breath.
She’d need some luck to get through to xTerra without being discovered.
Soon, the trio of jeeps appeared on the road she’d just left.
They passed her hillside position and continued along the highway, the one on her map.
Damn. She needed to follow the marked route or risk becoming lost. At least the occupants didn’t seem to have seen her.
With a deep breath, she kept her head tucked down, not moving until they were long gone, the sounds faded to nothing.
She allowed herself another minute to regroup and resume normal breathing.
Things were getting more complicated, but she needed to continue.
She returned to the road, checking both ways before stepping onto the asphalt, girding herself for the probability that she might have to abandon the road eventually.
Each time she reached a curve or a dip, anything reducing her visibility, she approached cautiously, ensuring she was alone before continuing.
Her headache built in intensity, but she pressed on, albeit at a fraction of her earlier pace.
She passed several roads where the jeeps could have turned, but her gut told her they would be ahead—toward xTerra. Her palms remained sweaty, and her nerves on edge.
Her hyperalert state was exhausting, but she couldn’t let it slip. She was so close to her goal. A peek at the map showed a series of ninety-degree turns on Highway 471. Maybe it was time for her to take shortcuts.
Lissa left the road, angling across the fields to her left.
When she reached the road again, she followed it for a few hundred yards, hoping she’d run across the proper road, then repeated her action, cutting left again.
The going was slower, since she had to watch for uneven ground, rocks, and roots, but with the jeeps somewhere ahead it seemed prudent.
The second time she returned to the road, she followed it straight, past the turnoff for Edgemont. Drivers might go that way, but she followed the road sign toward the smaller town of Provo. Cam had marked this junction in thick strokes and written, “off-road.”
When she came into the former village, it seemed just like any of the abandoned towns she’d traveled through—dusty, broken, and eerily quiet.
She passed through the small downtown without incident.
Three hundred yards past the last shops, the road shook with a vibration.
Then came the whine of another vehicle closer than she would have liked, giving her reason to hurry.
She trotted toward the outskirts, her backpack bumping against her back, her stiff hiking shoes thumping on the road’s surface.
Reaching more open country, instead of following the highway, she headed out on her own through the tangled fields, sharp dead grass scratching her legs. On the other side, she ran up a hill into the bushes, hoping to lose anyone behind. She glanced back. A single jeep, moving at a crawl.
Excited shouts came as the vehicle stopped. A door slammed.
Shit. A wave of fear washed over her. Her skin broke out in goosebumps. She hadn’t been quick enough—she’d been spotted.
Now seemed like a smart time to run. Fear lent her speed.
Arms and legs pumping, she crossed the ridge, glancing over her shoulder.
The engine sound grew louder. The jeep must be on the move again and close—hidden perhaps by the surrounding hills and low warehouses.
At a sprint, she descended into a narrow valley by the creek housing several flat-topped buildings with metal siding.
Her breath was labored, but she had to keep moving.
The land to the north was completely flat.
There was nowhere else to hide except here, among the scattered warehouses.
Lissa kept checking behind as she scanned for a hiding place. A nook. A dark shadow. Somewhere small she could tuck herself into to escape notice.
“Hey, you. Stop.” A man’s gruff voice carried through the spring air.
She froze in her tracks. Sweat trickled down her sides.
Thirty yards away, a man wearing tan pants and a camo jacket strode toward her.
He held a rifle in his hands. She bolted, weaving back and forth, heading down the lane.
The expected shot never came. At the far end of the empty parking lot, she slipped into the wild.
She vaulted over a tangled web of thorn bushes and, careless of the uneven ground, she ran.
Heavy footsteps pounded behind on the pavement, past the remaining warehouses.
“Stop.” His angry shout sounded out of breath.
Without sparing her pursuer a glance, she pumped her legs harder.
Once, she almost rolled her ankle when she tripped over a rock in the thick grass.
Stumbling, trying to extend her lead, her momentum propelled her forward.
She touched down with one hand and one knee, recovered and built-up speed again.
Her lungs labored, and a stitch developed in her side.
Lissa crossed another pitted parking lot, jumped over a ditch, and dashed into the surrounding barren field. There was no adequate cover yet. She just had to reach the trees on the far side.
Behind her, a gunshot cracked. Her heart racing, she crouched lower and hunched her shoulders inward, trying to become a smaller target.
Another shot rang out. Her ears rang, and blood pumped through her so hard it was difficult to hear.
She stumbled again but kept moving. By some miracle, two additional bullets missed, whizzing past. Lissa zigzagged across the last section of field before slipping through the rusted barbed wire on the far side.
Her backpack caught on the top strand. Another shot hit the fencepost on her right. She shrank inward, yanked her pack free, and climbed the hill, her legs burning. At the top, she disappeared into a stand of trees, her breath ragged and her heart banging like a drum.
Just before she dropped over the ridge at the far side, she looked back.
The man with the rifle remained near the row of warehouses, but he was no longer alone.
Another jeep had parked with four more men, all of them armed.
The first man lifted his binoculars, aiming them right at her position.
She sucked in a breath. He pointed, and the new men strode into the field, fanning out.
Lissa cursed, spun, and took off, running once more, branches whipping across her face, floundering through the bushes as she searched for a trail.
Twice she fell, both times scraping her hands on rocks.
Thorns tore at her face and limbs, but she kept moving.
From the fiery pain on her heels, the blisters must have popped. Still, she ran.
She had another five long miles to go.