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As we navigate the treacherous terrain, I can't help but think about the life we'd imagined earlier tonight, free from the Mafia and its constant threats. It feels like a cruel joke now, a dream that's been snatched away just as quickly as it appeared.
But I refuse to give in to my dark thoughts and self-pity. And maybe, just maybe, if we can survive this latest danger, we'll find a way to make that dream a reality.
"Watch your step," I warn her after I almost trip over a rock I hadn't noticed, gripping her hand tighter as we navigate uneven ground and rows of grapevines. Our footsteps are quick and urgent, echoing in the otherwise quiet night.
Jasmine's breathing grows heavier with each passing moment, her chest heaving as we push ourselves to keep moving.
"Are you alright?" I ask her, concern etching across my face.
"Yeah, just... just scared," she admits, her voice shaky. "What if they're waiting for us around one of these bends?"
I squeeze her hand reassuringly. "We'll deal with whatever comes our way, together," I tell her firmly. "Just stay close, and trust me."
"Always," she whispers, her eyes meeting mine for a brief moment before we continue our desperate sprint toward safety.
As we approach the edge of the vineyard, the darkness seems to close in around us, casting eerie shadows on the path ahead.
Every rustle of leaves or snap of twigs sends shivers down my spine, heightening my senses as I scan our surroundings for any signs of danger.
"Almost there," I breathe, feeling my heart pounding in my chest. "Just a little further."
Our pace quickens, driven by the relentless need to escape this nightmare and find sanctuary. But even as we move forward, I can't shake the feeling that we're in danger, and our night is only going to get worse.
Suddenly, we stumble upon a gruesome sight that stops us dead in our tracks. A man lies sprawled on the ground, blood pooling around him like a macabre halo.
His labored gasps rend the air, and his trembling hand reaches out to us, beseeching.
"Help...please," he rasps, terror painting his pallid features. Jasmine stifles a scream, her grip tightening around my hand, her body trembling against mine.
Chapter 21
Cloak and Dagger
Jasmine
Dario and I sprint through the vines, our feet pounding against the uneven ground, trying to reach the figure that lies slumped on mushy mud, a pool of crimson liquid seeping from his torso.
As we skid to a stop beside him, my stomach lurches. His shirt is soaked through with blood, the ragged holes in the fabric revealing the damage beneath. I get on my knees, trying to suppress the bleeding with my bare hands.
"Please, help me," he gasps, clutching at my sleeve. His eyes are glassy, pupils dilated with pain and panic.
Dario kneels beside the man, speaking in a firm, steady tone. "We're going to help you. What's your name?"
The dying man's eyes lock onto Dario's, raw terror etched into their depths. His cracked lips part, a hoarse moan escaping, instead of a name.
I reach for my phone on instinct, ready to call 911, but he clutches my wrist with surprising strength. "No time...You must go. Now." Each word is agony, his breaths coming in ragged gasps.
“Go where?” I ask genty, my heart shattering at this man’s desperate attempts to communicate with us. “Look, you need to allow us to help you. Please, I need to call an ambulance.”
He shakes his head, his hand still gripping mine tightly and then, he lifts his other trembling hand and points towards the forest. Both Dario and I look in the direction he’s pointing towards and shake our heads.
“Sir,” says Dario. “We don’t understand what you’re trying to say. Who did this to you? Are you telling us the attackers are out there?”
He nods, weakly. Then, the dying man's eyes lock onto Dario's, raw terror etched into their depths. His cracked lips part, a hoarse whisper escaping. "I had to inform you…The children...there. The kidnappers...shot..."
Dread pools in my gut as his words register. Oh no. This was our informant—the man who was going to help us as per the ghost’s command.
“What children?” asks Dario, urgently. “What kidnappers?”
