The first gunshot startled her, but it sailed harmlessly past. Danny started crying, and Beth glanced back to see her son’s bright eyes shedding tears.
She swerved across the road, aiming at a gap between the trees. It marked a logging trail they’d walked a few times in summer. Beth didn’t slow as the road gave way to rutted track, and she kept her foot on the gas as the Yukon hit frozen mud. The big SUV bounced around violently as it climbed the steep track and threw chewed-up mud and slush into the air behind it.
Maria yelped and squealed but Beth kept going, pushing the Yukon to the limit. The suspension crunched and groaned, and the engine growled, but the large car roared on. Beth checked behind her to see their pursuers weren’t so lucky. The patrol car made it about ten yards before getting stuck on the steep slope.
They soon crested a rise that took them out of sight of their pursuers, and Beth eased off the accelerator.
“It’s OK,” she said, reaching round her seat to squeeze Danny’s leg. “It’s over. We’re safe. Is anyone hurt?”
“No,” Maria replied.
Danny shook his head.
“Those weren’t real police, were they?” Maria asked. Her face was rigid with worry.
“No, honey, I don’t think so,” Beth replied. She kept stroking Danny’s leg and his crying turned to shuddering, uneven gasps. “But it’s OK. We’re prepared for this, remember?”
Beth hoped the children wouldn’t connect the dots and realize what this meant for their father. She could hardly bring herself to think about it either.
Maria nodded uncertainly, and when Beth glanced back she saw Danny doing the same. She was so proud of her kids. Their father would be too.
Chapter 3
The sun was touching the horizon by the time they reached Lake Waramaug. Beth turned left off Preston Hill Road onto the track that led toward Mount Bushnell. The snow was thick up here, and the Yukon growled and grunted its way through deep drifts. The mountain was covered in pines that were so tightly packed they were like bristles on a toothbrush.
The track was kept in good condition by the folks who lived at Marks Hollow, but it didn’t look as though it had been ploughed for a while. Beth climbed a steep turn. When she looked to her left she saw the lake a mile or so away, shimmering gold in the sunset. Danny had fallen asleep, but Maria’s eyes were on the water.
“Isn’t it beautiful?” Beth remarked, and her daughter nodded.
About half a mile further on, Beth turned right down a trail that was covered in packed snow. The SUV’s wheels spun and slid around, but the snow tires found enough purchase to make slow progress and propel the vehicle forward in uncertain bursts. They turned west, the red sun flickering through the trees, blinding them both. Beth glanced in the rear-view and saw Danny’s eyelids tremble in the bright light.
“Nearly there,” Beth told Maria, who smiled wanly.
The Yukon skated and spun its way along the trail for a little over half a mile until the dense forest thinned and then fell away. Beth drove into a half-acre clearing. A small cabin stood in the center, its tiled roof covered with sparkling snow that was tinted pink in the dying light.
“Here we are,” she said, and sensed Maria’s relief.
The kids knew and loved this place. Maria called it Gray Havens, which Beth didn’t particularly like, but if it helped her daughter process the idea of a sanctuary, she was prepared to put up with the nickname.
Beth stopped the SUV in front of the cabin, and Danny stirred at the sudden loss of momentum. Beth turned to look at her son and saw the familiar bewilderment that marked the transition from sleep to waking. He took in their surroundings, and after a moment, Beth sensed him relax.
“I’m hungry,” he said, and she smiled with relief. Hunger was a run-of-the-mill problem that could be solved by her snack-making skills.
“We’ve got food in the cabin,” she said. “Lots of it.”
“How long will we have to stay here?” Maria asked.
“Until we figure out what’s happening.”
“Will we get in trouble at school?” Her daughter frowned.
“No. I don’t want you to worry about anything like that,” Beth replied.
“Is Dad OK?” Danny asked.
Beth bit her lip. She never lied to her kids. “I hope so. He’s never not been OK.”
That seemed to satisfy them, and Beth didn’t expand on the subject. She stepped out of the car and opened the rear door to help Danny down, but he brushed her hand away with, “I’m not a baby, Mom,” and jumped into the crisp snow.
He followed his sister, who skipped toward the cabin. The two of them made little puffball clouds of hot breath in the icy air, like a pair of steam engines.
Beth went after them, but she hesitated as she neared the wooden deck that ran around the cabin. She sensed something wasn’t right, and froze.
“What is it, Mom?” Maria asked.
“Shush!”
Danny glanced fearfully from his mom to his sister, and the three of them stood still as Beth strained to listen. She heard the rush of wind through the trees, the creak of branches, the brush of pine needles. Then there was something else — an insectoid sound, like a swarm of bees.
Beth felt a wave of nausea as she looked up and saw a drone hovering above the trees near the track.
“Move!” she told the children, and ran across the deck to the tiny key locker beside the front door. She punched in the code, grabbed the key from inside and opened the door. She hustled the children into the rustic living room and ran to the window box. She pulled the cushion off, lifted the hinged lid, and took a fabric cover off the gun safe concealed inside. She spun the combination lock to the correct sequence of numbers and turned the thick metal handle. Inside were a couple of pump-action shotguns and an AR-15. She grabbed the rifle and a box of ammunition.
“Stay here,” she told the children breathlessly, loading the rifle as she strode through the living room.
Beth opened the front door, pressed the rifle stock to her shoulder and sighted the target. A hundred, maybe a hundred-and-twenty feet. Light wind. She squeezed the trigger and the crack of the shot echoed through the cabin. The bullet struck true, sending the drone spiraling into the trees.
Beth knew what was coming next and didn’t waste a moment. She ran inside, slamming the door shut.
“Mom?” Maria said uncertainly.
Danny was crying again.
“We’ve got to go,” Beth told them. “Grab our winter coats.”
Maria nodded and ran to the rack beneath the stairs. She got coats for all three of them as Beth watched the track through the living room window.
Maria froze first. A moment later, Beth heard it too. First one, then multiple car engines.
Beth ran to Danny and crouched down. She held his shoulders gently. “Dan. Danny,” she said, and her heart broke when she saw her son trying to be brave and fight to control his sobs. He was desperate not to let her down. “It’s OK,” she assured him. “I’m scared too. But we’re going to have to leave, and we’ve got to do it quietly. Do you think you can be quiet?”
Danny took a long, shuddering breath and nodded.
“Good boy,” Beth said. She stood up and turned to Maria. “Let’s go.”
Beth grabbed a long down coat from her daughter, picked up the rifle, and put the box of ammunition in her coat pocket. She led the children through the kitchen and out the back door. They pulled on their coats as they crossed the clearing to the treeline, hurrying through thick forest until Beth was confident they couldn’t be seen.
“OK,” she whispered, pulling the children to a halt. “We should be safe here.”
Maria and Danny looked petrified, but Beth couldn’t console them yet.