45. BRECIA

Cascade, Idaho

I was honestly impressed by how quickly the girls moved after that.

If I knew anything about April, she was beating herself up right now for lying to the girls. For scaring them into running. For not running before. For inventing a bear.

But I wanted to hug her. She'd done exactly the right thing.

There was no time to explain to two little girls that something far worse than a bear really was hunting them along the trails as they scrambled farther into the forest, panting and gasping but not stopping.

I looked back every few seconds, just waiting to see him behind us. Waiting for the snap of the branch that would mean the end of the chase. But little by little, the treeline became less dense and the slope of the mountain mellowed into a rolling terrain. More daylight filtered down through the treetops, and it was easier to move without fear of tripping on fallen logs.

April finally grabbed the girls' hands and told them to stop. They had to rest. Their faces were red, and streaky wet trails cut lines through the dust on their cheeks.

"Is the bear still behind us, Mommy?" Emma asked fearfully, glancing back and forth through the trees behind them.

April squeezed her hand and took a ragged breath. "We're outrunning him, baby. I'm so proud of you. We're going to get help from somebody, okay?"

"And then go back for Daddy?" Kimmie asked tearfully, clearly distraught that they'd left the bastard behind to fend for himself.

Skye shook her head and turned around, scanning for any sign of the road in the distance. I had no idea how far we'd run, but I told myself we had to be getting close. The sun was dipping farther toward the horizon, and the girls had been running off and on for more than an hour now, after walking plenty before that.

April nodded confidently and raked her sweaty hair back with one hand. "You don't need to worry about him, sweetheart. Rest a few more seconds, and then we'll keep going."

* * *

It was Skye who finally, jubilantly, announced that we were almost to the main road. The turnoff to the paved Highway 55 was still at least a mile away—she'd run ahead—but it was just within reach. Another half an hour, if we kept up this pace. We were going to make it. The girls were exhausted and soaked in sweat. Every time they took another short rest, April's hands shook while she scanned the trail they'd traveled. I knew she was practicing her speech for if he found them. But I knew as well as she did that there was nothing she could say. James wouldn't buy the bear line. He knew he was the bear.

"I kept going to see how close we are to town, and it's not far at all," Skye said. "Maybe another five miles along the road? She's a white lady with kids. Someone will stop and give them a ride. She'll flag someone down, right? Then call the police?"

I smiled, ready to celebrate. And that was when April suddenly fell, landing flat against the dirt while Kimmie and Emma turned to her in shock.

At first, I thought she had passed out. It would have made sense. She hadn't had anything to drink—while running for her life—for hours now.

She wasn't lying still, though. She motioned for the girls to lie next to her, hissing for them to be quiet in the same voice she'd used to tell them about the bear. In a tone that I imagined mothers have used in dire moments for as long as they have gathered their children under their wings when death approached. A tone that said, There is no room for questions. The worst is coming, and these words combined with your exact obedience are your only hope for safety.

I stopped listening to April and the girls and turned my attention to the danger. The sound of cracking branches and heavy footfalls was approaching fast. It would have been futile to run when he was this close. If he stopped and listened, even for a second, he was close enough to hear them now. Maybe he'd already heard them.

I went out to meet him, while Meghan and Skye stayed with April and the girls. When I glanced back over my shoulder, the only person I could see was Meghan, her arms wrapped around her stomach as she watched me go. The others were completely hidden from this vantage, next to a toppled tree trunk that butted up to a couple of mossy boulders.

He was coming from the direction of the road. When I caught sight of him, I could still see the minivan perched precariously along the narrow dirt shoulder at the top of the steep graded slope. In our scramble through the woods, we'd moved closer to the road than I'd thought.

Oblivious to the noise he was making, James growled as his shirt got caught on a dead tree branch, ripping part of it. His eyes scanned the diverging deer paths in front of him, looking for any sign of April or the girls. As he crashed toward me, I could see that he was clutching something in his hand. It was the multitool from the survival kit: half ax blade, half hammer.

There was no more pretense. The jig was up. There was no trace of the collected, methodical planning in this person moving toward me. His hair, sweaty against his forehead, was matted and wild. His eyes were hard and full of rage. There were no more games to be played or time to bide. April had betrayed him. She'd run away before he was ready to finish her off. And he was going to kill all three of them as soon as he found them.

I didn't know what he was thinking at this moment. I didn't want to. But I could feel the desperation and rage coming off of him in thick waves through the air between us as he passed me, whipping his head from side to side and scrutinizing the terrain.

That desperation was the only comfort I could find. He'd been up and down this dirt road in that damn minivan all these hours without success. Maybe, just maybe, he'd turn around and drive a little farther when he didn't find them near the road.

But he barreled forward, letting out another grunt of rage. I followed him, powerless as ever to do anything to stop him if he found them.