Chapter 3

3

Asteel vice tightened around Grace's head, a relentless force escalating by the minute. Her trembling fingers met skin, not metal, but the moisture on her fingertips hinted at something ominous. In the dim light of the car's interior, black glistened—the viscous aftermath of a head wound.

She gingerly touched her forehead, confirming the stickiness—blood. Swallowing against the surge of nausea, she took a shaky breath, each inhalation unfurling ribbons of pain through her chest. She forced herself to meet her gaze in the rear-view mirror.

Alive. I'm alive. I can do this.

Steam wafted from the crumpled hood through the windscreen. Soft clicks filled her ears as she futilely turned the ignition. She squinted, focusing through the glass, her heart sinking at the warped metal. The car wasn't going to start.

She fumbled with the seatbelt with trembling fingers until it released with a loud click. Relief flooded her body as the tension across her chest eased and she could breathe easier. She pulled the door handle and tumbled from the car, landing on all fours in the wet snow, the cooling engine ticking loudly near her ears.

"Breathe, Grace. Breathe. You're alive. Alive."

Pushing up on wobbly knees, her breath formed clouds in the frigid air that stung any exposed skin. A quick glance in the wing mirror revealed a cut on her hairline—small but bloody. Experience whispered reassurance. She'd survive. After all, she'd faced far worse under Richard's tutelage.

Stars blazed overhead, more brilliant than any she'd ever witnessed before, but still, indifferent to her plight.

Right.

She tramped around to the other side of the car and, wrenching open the creaking passenger door, shouldered her backpack. She zipped her jacket and tucked her scarf closer to fend off the biting cold. Her fingers were already almost numb. She clapped them together, then rammed them under her arms while she hopped from foot to foot to get her pulse up.

Okay, what now?

The darkest night surrounded her. Light sucking blackness interrupted only by diamond studs of stars. Fat snow flakes descended lazily, adding a bonus layer of moisture to her already wet jacket. Trees crowded her in all directions save for the road.

The road.

If her pursuers had spotted her, they would likely scour the turnoffs. Her abandoned car would be a beacon in the desolate wintry landscape.

Worse, they'd see the car and know she was on foot.

She pivoted, snow crunching under her feet. In normal circumstances, she loved the noise. But right now, it only reminded her of how vulnerable she was, of how easily they could find her if she wasn't cautious.

Behind her, the forest was a wall of intimidating blackness. This was Alaska. She could go in there and never come out again.

She glanced over her shoulder. The road, though offering a semblance of civilization, seemed equally ominous.

Grace adjusted her backpack on her shoulders, reasoning with herself. She could head into the forest. Enough to stay out of sight, but not so far I get lost…and I'm never seen again. She shook her head as if doing so would shake off the doubt and fear like water droplets, and pushed between two conifers. Whip thin branches caught her clothes and dislodged snow hit the back of her collar and melted against her nape.

Grace straightened her spine. Take your omen and stuff it, universe.Resolute, she marched into the forest with a confident stride she didn't feel.