Chapter 50 PAIGE

Chapter 50

PAIGE

Run!

Run!

I won't stop.

His shouts flood my ears, and terror drives my feet, my bound wrists throwing off my balance. I don't know what I'm running toward and it doesn't matter. I'm simply running away from him. As far away as possible. My knees ache where I scraped them on the dock, but I ignore it. Pain radiates from my bare feet, rocks and sticks jabbing them. I move my legs as fast as I can.

Run!

Run!

My lungs burn. The smoky air makes me pant, my body craving more oxygen. I'll run until my feet are raw and bleeding to get away from him. I weave among the firs and scramble up a small rise, using my bound hands against the ground to keep from falling on my face in the dusty dirt. A crackling fills my ears and I look to my right.

Fire.

The fir trees are burning. The treetops glow orange, and smoke clouds the sky as the fire ravages them. Small embers ride the strong winds, but most turn to ash before they reach me. The forest is sprinkled with a light dusting of gray ash and it gets thicker as I run. I spit as a large snowflake of ash blows into my mouth.

Too much smoke! Go another way!

I veer to my left and lose sight of the burning trees. But I still hear the fire, and the air full of ash doesn't dissipate. I veer again, seeking cleaner air. I skid to a stop as I crest a small rise. Before me is a sharp, rocky drop.

Shit.

I can't go down. I change direction again, running parallel to the embankment. I've lost all sense of direction and worry I'm running back to the Master. Pain shoots up one leg and I stumble, trying to avoid the tender underside of that foot. I fall to one side, landing on an elbow. Pain races through the nerves in my arm, and I grit my teeth to keep from crying. I check my foot. Both feet are bleeding from numerous cuts. But the new slice is deep. I look around and take a deep breath. The ashy air makes me cough and nearly gag.

I have to keep going.

If I stop, I'll die.

I awkwardly push to my feet. It's incredibly hard with the zip ties. Something brushes my leg, making me jump and nearly fall again. A rabbit rushed by. I watch as it leaps its way down the steep embankment and up the far side before it vanishes into the brush. I wonder if its instincts are guiding it to safety or if it's running blindly from the fire.

Like me.

I spin in place, searching the woods for a sign of which way to go. There's no possible way I can get down the steep drop like the rabbit. I study the trees and brush on the other side. The sky above them is less smoky compared to the darkening, swirling sky above me. I continue to follow the top edge of the gully. Maybe the drop-off will ease, and I can get to the other side.

I'm trusting a rabbit?

My pace has slowed. I hobble. Every step feels as if I'm walking on glass shards, and I want more than anything to sit and rest. But I fear if I stop, I'll never get up. I was moving faster before I looked at my feet. I wipe my wet cheeks. Tears and ash create a gray muck that coats my hand. The air is hot and the noisy crackle of the fire has escalated.

It's getting closer.

I don't want to burn alive.

I'm bawling now, hating myself for leaving my home and blundering into the hell that began with Don and will now end with death. A painful death. I jerk as an ember lands on my arm, causing a spike of pain. I'm unable to brush it off with my bound hands, so I blow at it, and tear-filled spit comes out of my mouth.

Keep moving.

The embankment isn't as steep now, but there's no way I can get down it and keep my balance with my hands tied. I'll fall and crack my head open on one of the huge, jagged rocks. Movement catches my eye, and I spot a dog speeding along the bottom of the gully.

Not a dog. A red fox.

It rushes up the far side and vanishes.

That must be the way I need to go.

Motivation fills me and I push on. Far ahead, the slope down to the gully eases. I lock my gaze on an area that looks manageable and stumble toward it. I'm coughing as I reach it, and I pause as I fight not to retch. But inside I'm cheering because I'm confident I can get down this slope. I'll tackle getting up the other side once I'm down.

I'm sure it's easier to breathe down there too.

I turn sideways and start to shuffle-step down the hill, my clasped wrists raised in front of me, ready to catch me if I fall.

My head jerks back, and I fall on my ass. Don stares down at me, his hand wrapped in my hair, my scalp burning.

"Stupid bitch. You thought you could escape?" He smirks.

Relief at seeing a human—any human—flashes through me for a brief second, but dread and fear drive it away.

I'd rather burn in the fire.