Page 79 of Crash and Burn

She heard Geller bellowing as he rolled out the window after her. But then she heard another voice from the side of the house. “What did you do, Geller? Can’t let her get away, can we?”

Chapter Sixty-Two

Dear Lord, Maggie thought still tearing through the woods, he was still here.

It wasn’t just Geller she had to run from.

Branches reached out and slapped at her. It was her fault—she had alerted Sanders—or whoever he was—when she yelled. Now, her only chance at safety was to keep going forward.

Behind her, Geller roared, seeming to ignore the other man. Maggie and Geller were in a battle for their lives. But whoever the other man was, he didn’t seem to be chasing her, just chiding his partner for his failure.

Whatever made his adrenaline spike, this wasn't it. But she could hear him jogging along in the woods behind Geller. Maggie’s fear was through the roof, her brain racing. She thought about things like getting her jacket caught on a branch and it slowing her down. She thought about how she was probably tearing up her feet, but she couldn’t feel it.

None of that was important. She simply had to win.

If it was an endurance competition, she didn't know which of the three of them would be able to sustain the chase the longest—only that if she lost, she died. If it was about knowing the lay of the land, they had the advantage. If it was about strategy, there were two of them and only one of her. They could circle around and cut her off, flank her, trap her. If it was about hand-to-hand combat, she would probably lose that battle, too.

Her odds were worse than bad.

She remembered being in the boat. She remembered being pulled through the woods, but she truly had no idea where she was, only that it was the middle of nowhere. She would have to run as far and as fast as she could.

Even as that thought solidified in her brain, she tripped over a root and went down into the dirt face first. Her initial inclination was to push back up and keep running, but when she tried, she tumbled to the side and off the trail.

As she did, she grabbed frantically onto whatever she could to stop herself from rolling further. At last her hand clutched a large branch. It braced her, fresh and sturdy, stuck between two slim trees and broken on both ends. As she stood up, she realized she was still holding it and that she hadn’t rolled more than a few feet off the trail.

Grabbing the branch with both hands, she tested it. For a moment it felt like the Louisville Slugger she kept at home. Yes, she could do this.

Maggie stood up slowly, trying not to make any noise as she tucked herself behind the trunk of a wide tree and waited for Geller to come close. Even as she pressed herself against the tree, she realized that he'd slowed down. He had to hear that she wasn't making noise, and thus not moving forward anymore.

Why couldn’t a rabbit or a raccoon scuttle across the trail and make him think she was up ahead? She was no Snow White, clearly. The woodland creatures were avoiding her rather than helping.

She was breathing so heavily that all of Nebraska could likely hear her. But she stayed hidden behind the tree, waiting.

“Where are you, you little bitch?” The voice came out sing song at first, but sharpened to an edge by the time he got to the last word.

She didn't answer. His talking gave her a reference point for where he was, and he was slowly creeping closer to where she was hidden. Did he know she was there? And where was Sanders? Sanders could pop up behind her and slit her throat at any moment. But she couldn’t afford to turn around. She had to focus on the threat she could identify.

There was noise in the distance, but Maggie couldn't place it. She took a chance and peeked around the trunk, hoping she could stay hidden. In a stroke of luck, she caught Geller looking over his shoulder—probably at the same noise she’d heard—and she took advantage.

Stepping out, her bare feet were now a saving grace, making little noise on the dirt trail. She swung the branch at his head as hard as she could and tried not to wince as it made a sickening crack as it contacted with the back of his skull.

The branch was less sturdy than she thought and split with the force of impact. A bellow emerged from his mouth and he swayed. For a moment, she thought she might have the upper hand. But behind her, a sickeningly calm voice said, “Hello Magdalyn.”

There was no other option, she had to fight them both if she was going to survive. Maggie swung around, aiming what was left of her makeshift bat up toward the point where she'd heard the voice.

His hand came up to block the swing. His expression remained calm.

She’d seen this face before. This was William Sanders.

He didn’t flinch with the hit, even though she had to have hurt his arm. It would leave a mark, but he wasn't even paying attention to her any longer. He tipped his head as though listening to something else, maybe the noises she had heard. Was it car doors closing? Could she be so lucky?

Maggie desperately wanted to turn and look, but she couldn't take her eyes off Sanders. His mesmerizing gaze was petrifying. His calm clarity in the midst of chaos chilling. When he grinned, it only froze her insides further. He would kill her right here and think nothing of it.

He said only, “I prefer blondes.”

The noise behind her got louder, feet were tramping through the woods. She could hear the doors at the cabin slamming as someone rampaged through the place, at least she thought she did.

A loud bang startled her enough to turn away, but with her quick glance she couldn’t see anything that told her what was going on. As fast as she was, Sanders was already down the trail ahead of her when she turned back to look.

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