Page 130 of Torin

My father shouts my name again.

This time he’s closer.

I reach the trees and plunge between them. Branches whip across my face and snag in my hair as I run.

Behind me, something cracks.

He’s in the woods.

The ground drops towards the service track. I scramble down the bank, race across the dirt and start up the other side.

“Hannah!”

Too close.

My shoe slips. I grab at the earth, haul myself up and keep going.

Then I hear an engine.

It’s coming from somewhere ahead.

I shove through the last of the trees and stumble onto the road.

A pickup has already passed me. I catch a glimpse of its tailgate as it disappears around the bend to my left.

“Wait!”

I run after it, waving both arms, but within seconds it’s gone.

Shit.

I turn back.

The road stretches empty in the other direction.

Behind me, branches crack.

My father is still coming.

“Come on,” I whisper. “Come on.”

Then I hear another engine, this time from my right. A dark SUV rounds the bend, heading towards me. I run into the middle of the road and wave both arms above my head.

“Help!”

The driver brakes hard. The tires squeal as the SUV pulls up a few feet away from me.

I’m at the passenger door almost before it stops.

“Please.” I yank it open. “You have to help me.”

The man behind the wheel stares at me.

He’s in his sixties, wearing a faded baseball cap, and there’s something horribly familiar about his face.

Then his eyes widen.

“Hannah?”