Page 128 of Always Knew It Was You

He already let me know in no uncertain terms, what he would do to me if I tried to mess with him again. And I don’t doubt that he’ll follow through.

I try to keep an eye out and stay as silent as possible as I creep behind the bushes, dashing from one tree to the next. When I get about a quarter-mile away, I glance behind me to make sure I’m not leaving any obvious track. Then, I continue.

I don’t know if I’m moving farther from the road or closer, and I don’t have time to even stop and think about it. I just need to get away.

If I were smarter or savvier at this, I probably would have gotten their phone and called 911, but I didn’t want to risk getting caught. As I crouch behind another tree, I suddenly hear footsteps crunching on the twigs in the distance. Oh no. My heart scurries away when I peek up and see him. The Burned Man.

He hasn’t spotted me yet. He’s frowning, his head pivoting from side to side. I shrink back against the stem, overgrown grass brushing against my face. He glances around and calls out, “You know if you surrender now, I’m going to make it easier for you. But if you waste my time looking for you, it’s going to get real ugly.”

Fear has me pressing my hand over my mouth so I don’t accidentally let out a scream.

Even when he pulls his gun from his waistband and takes off the safety.

“I’m a hunter, little girl,” he says. “I can smell fear from a mile away. And I smell yours right now.”

I try to hide amidst the shadows but then startlingly and suddenly his head snaps to my general vicinity. And then he points the gun.

I manage not to scream as I run.

The gunshot scatters behind me, covering the sound of my escape. It propels me forward even as I keep from screaming. My feet naturally move in a zigzag pattern, my memory randomly pulling up one of the things Emma’s grandpa told me about what to do when I’m being shot at. I stay low and hidden, behind trees and bushes. I desperately search for a place to hide.

At the same time, a pessimistic voice inside my head tells me that I’m not going to make it.

He’s going to catch me and he’s going to kill me for this stupid attempt.

Why did I think I was smart enough to pull this off?

No.My legs pump as I run down the hill.I’m going to survive.I don’t care how much I have to run, how hard I have to fight. I’m not going to let him get me, because I have way too much to live for now.

I spot another trailer in the distance and run for it. Maybe if I can somehow get inside it, I can hide or find a weapon. Or a phone.

Despite how unrealistic that last one is, the thought keeps me going.

But before I get far, a hand shoots out of nowhere and grabs me, pulling me behind a tree.

Another hand slaps over my mouth to muffle my scream at the same time as another shot rings out.

I freeze, not fighting, or he might hear me.

I look up to the man holding me.

It’s Hal.

My heart races with fear again but he shakes his head before I can scream and his eyes plead with me to trust him.

It’s not like I have a choice now. I don’t know if he’s working with his father or not but if he is then I’m doomed either way.

Hal does something else. He points in the distance, and I squint in that direction, but I don’t see much. It’s too dark.

I glimpse up at him and he points again, meaningfully. Then he mouths a word.Micah.

My heart skips a beat. Is he saying Micah is out there? How? How did they find me?

I glance back in that direction and think I see something, a glint in the bushes. And I feel it deep inside.

Oh my Gosh. He really is there.

The crunching twigs let me know that the Burned Man is closer.

---