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So apparently Red and the others had turned him over to the cops now… I wondered if they’d done so willingly. I didn’t care either way, but I did hope the cops had gotten something out of him. As though in answer to my question, I heard police sirens in the distance, and I paused.
“You’re here?”
“Where’s that?”
“Gordon’s Run.”
“My men should be there by now.”
“Fuck,” I said. “Took you long enough.”
“Mr. Robinson, you need to leave this up to us now,” he said. “After all, you are the one that asked us to get involved.”
“That doesn’t mean I’m leaving everything up to you,” I said. “He’s had Mila out here for five hours now. Anything could have happened.”
“We have his license plate number,” the sheriff told me. “Bryan Donovan was very chatty once he knew that his co-operation would help reduce his time.”
“Have your men fan out and search for her, then—”
“Mr. Robinson,” the sheriff interrupted me again. “This is not up to you anymore. Go home and wait for me to get back to you. If we find your girlfriend, I will inform you immediately.”
He had said ‘if,’ and I didn’t know what to do with that. I knew that I needed to prepare mentally for the possibility that even if we did find Mila, she would be nothing more than a broken body. But I cringed away from that possibility because it made me want to send a bullet through my brain.
I hung up rudely and put my phone away. The cops were here now… my men were probably here now too. Someone would find her, wouldn’t they? I kept walking in a straight line, searching for clues, anything that might help me find her. There were areas that looked disturbed somehow, as though someone large had passed through, but it could have been anyone.
I couldn’t see blood anymore, and I hoped that meant that Mila wasn’t hurt too badly. Maybe she had managed to escape him and hide somewhere. I recalled all the training she had been through in the last several months, and I prayed that it had been enough to make a difference. Still, I knew that fear could cripple you, no matter how prepared you thought you were.
I stumbled into another little clearing where the trees had grown far apart, allowing patches of sunlight to filter in and leave large spotlights on the ground in front of me. I turned and noticed blood by some rocks in the corner, and I knew instinctively that I was getting close. I stepped through the trees where it was cooler and darker and walked through until I heard a noise that made me freeze in place. My instincts were on high alert, and I sensed that I was not alone. Someone was here too, and I balled my hands into fists and prepared myself for a fight.
If Ghost were stupid enough to show his face to me now, I would end him before the cops showed up. I heard the noise again, and I turned. There was definitely someone moving behind the trees. I tried to walk silently, but the crunch of leaves underneath my boots gave me away. Then, I saw a beautiful auburn color that was almost red, and I felt hope blossom inside me instantly.
“Mila?”
There was silence for a second, and then suddenly she emerged, like an angel out of a dream. All I saw were her eyes and her perfect face, and then I saw the rest. Her clothes were partly ripped, she was bruised and bloodied, and she seemed to be leaning against the tree for support. I looked down and saw that her right leg looked broken.
I rushed to her and grabbed her before she fell. I held her as she buried her face in my chest and started sobbing uncontrollably, devastating sobs that were a mixture of pain and relief. She didn’t say anything, and I didn’t either. I just let her sob until silence flooded around us again and Mila was still against my body.
“Mila,” I whispered her name.
“Zack,” she said, and her voice trembled when she spoke. “Is it really you?”
“Of course it’s me,” I assured her. “I’m here… I’m so sorry Mila—”
“I thought I was going to die… I almost—”
She trailed off, and I felt her grip me a little harder.
“You don’t have to worry,” I told her. “The cops are here too… they’ll find the bastard.”
Mila looked up at me. “He’s gone, Zack,” she said shakily.
“Don’t worry,” I assured her. “They have his license plate number… they’ll track him down.”
“No,” Mila said, shaking her head.
I frowned.
“No,” Mila said again. “He’s gone… he’s… he’s dead.”
