“She hasn’t been gone long,” he said.
“How do you know that?” Richard asked.
Logan lifted the bag containing the bread. “It’s open, but the bread’s still fresh, not dried out.”
Richard sneered. “Still could have been hours.”
Logan pointed at the nearly full glass of water.
“That could have been there even longer.”
Shaking his head, Logan ran his finger along the top of the glass. “Rim’s still wet.”
Diana’s eyes grew wide. She darted to a closet at the end of the kitchen and pulled the door open. “Her pack’s gone.” She looked back at the two men. “She must be heading for the canyon.”
“Why would she leave?” Richard asked.
“I don’t know. I told her to hold tight.”
“Doesn’t matter why,” Logan said, heading for the door. “Which way did she go?”
A second later, they were back in the rain, running into the woods north of the cabin.
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
Sara knew the others had to have reached the cabin by now, which meant they knew she was gone. The question was, would they guess where she was headed?
Don’t worry about that. Just keep going!
But that was becoming a problem. When Diana had shown her the path, it was almost noon on a bright sunny day. Now, with the low gray clouds and relentless rain, she just couldn’t be sure she was going the right way. For the first five minutes, it had all been recognizable, but after that she was having a hard time spotting the landmarks she’d been told to look for.
Wiping the water from her face, she paused and turned in a circle, scanning her surroundings.
There. That rock. Isn’t it the one Diana had called “bear rock”?
The angle was wrong, but the basic bear-like shape was there. Seeing no other options, she headed toward it.
Bear rock, then the forked tree, then the hill and the field and the rotting tree…
She repeated the order like a mantra that would magically make each marker appear.
It was bear rock. She wasn’t lost.
“Thank you, God!” she said.
Everything was going to be-
“…ara…”
A voice in the distance. Male? Female? It was impossible to tell. But one thing Sara knew for sure, it was coming from somewhere between the cabin and where she was now.
Without wasting another second, she picked up her pace.
The forked tree, then the hill, then the field and the rotting tree and the pile of rocks.
The forked tree, then the hill, then the field and the rotting tree and the pile of rocks.
The forked tree, then the hill, then the-
Not more than fifty yards behind her, Sara heard a branch snap.
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
“The path arcs through these trees, then past a couple of large rocks, one on top of another,” Diana said. “After that, it’s almost a straight line into the park.”
They’d been moving as quickly as they could through the woods, but whatever tracks Sara might have left behind had been filled with muddy water.
“We should spread out,” Logan suggested. “In this weather she could be thirty or forty feet on either side of us and we’d never see her.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Richard argued.
“Stop it, Richard. He’s right,” Diana said. She pointed into the forest beside her. “You go that way about twenty yards. Logan, you do the same on the left.”
Logan tucked his gun into the waistband of his pants at the small of his back, and headed into the woods.
“Sara!” Diana called out.
“Sara!” Richard echoed.
Logan wanted to yell, too, but Sara wouldn’t know his voice, and if she heard him, she might run instead of stop. He plunged between the trees, his head swiveling back and forth, scanning as wide a range as he could. Every few seconds, he glanced at the ground, hoping to find some sign of her passage.
It wasn’t long before he realized he was moving faster than the others. Their voices fell farther and farther behind him, but he didn’t slow his pace.
Every few steps he wiped his forehead, the water flying off to the side. Though the tree cover did shelter him from some of the rain, it didn’t really matter. He was as soaked as if he’d just climbed out of a swimming pool.
Somewhere ahead were the two stacked rocks Diana had talked about. Once he reached them, he’d have to wait for her so he’d know which direction to go next.
As he stepped around another tree, his foot landed on an old branch and snapped it in two. He stumbled, but quickly regained his footing. As he looked up, he saw a flash of movement ahead.
Even with the reduced visibility, he knew it wasn’t a deer or some other animal living in the forest. It was a person.
Sara.
He started to run.
CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
At first Sara thought she was just hearing her heart pounding in her chest, but the rhythm was wrong, and she soon realized the sound was feet running through the woods, heading in her direction.
She rounded bear rock without even stopping.
The forked tree. The forked tree. Next is the forked tree.
But which direction was it?
More to the right. No, no! To the left. More to the left.
As she corrected her path, she slipped and went down, her knees and elbows slapping into the mud. Grimacing in pain, she forced herself back to her feet.
She knew the person chasing her had to be one of them. She couldn’t let them catch her. She couldn’t let them know where Emily was. She began running again, but the footsteps behind her were closer now.
“I don’t want to hurt you!” a voice called out.
Right, she thought.
There, just ahead, the forked tree. When I reach that, then it’s up the hill, then-
“Sara! Please stop!”
She chanced a look over her shoulder. The man behind her was as drenched as she was. He seemed to be alone at the moment, but she knew there were at least two others out there. She’d seen them on the ridge. Her pursuer was lean and strong. No way was she ever going to be able to outrun him. She had only one chance.
As she ran on, she pulled her left arm out of the strap to her backpack, and swung the bag around so she could get at it. Fastened to the side was a twelve-gauge shotgun. She retrieved a couple shells from the side pocket, then pulled the gun loose and dropped the bag to the mud.
The forked tree. Get to the forked tree.
It was just ahead, big enough so she could hide behind it and use the fork to safely take aim at the man.
She loaded the shells and sprinted the rest of the way to the tree. She leaned against the trunk, catching her breath as she listened to the man approach. Once it sounded like he was no more than fifty or sixty feet away, she slid into place, and propped the barrel of the gun in the fork. She chambered the shell, the distinctive clack-clack cutting through the storm.
The man could not help but hear it, too. He stopped in his tracks, but instead of going for cover, he raised his hands in the air.
“I’m not here to hurt you,” he repeated as his gaze found her in the break of the tree.
“I’ll shoot if you come any closer!” she shouted.
“Sara, I’m a friend. I came here with Diana and Richard.”
“Liar!” She was suddenly sure her sister and brother were both dead. It’s my fault! My fault!
Her finger tightened on the trigger.
“I’m not lying. I’m here because of your family,” he said. “I’m here because of Alan and Emily.”