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Another bolt cracked through the sky, muffling my yelp. I disappeared into the thick bush until I dropped out of the bottom of it. I froze, listening for the dogs or the guards or for someone who noticed what had happened but I heard nothing but thunder. Slowly, I crawled out from underneath the bush, squatting low. Looking behind me, I realized just how lucky I was.
Right below my room was a window. If I had eased myself any lower, I probably would’ve kicked it and alerted someone of what I was doing. If anyone was in that room, they probably would’ve seen me fall. But the window was dark and no one came after me yet. If I survived this, I would never play escape games again.
I hesitated, peering up and down the wall before dashing over to it. I was right before that there were a lot of cracks and faults in the wall that I could use to climb it. But it wasn’t going to be easy now that it was raining. I jumped, grabbing the highest crack I could. My fingers protested, tearing against the rough concrete but I ignored it. I need to hurry or I’m sure someone will see me.
I was just throwing my leg over the wall when I heard what I dreaded the most. Shouts rang out over the noise of the rain. Panicking, I threw myself over the other side, landing hard on my hip. I thought I would feel pain but I pushed myself up and took off without pausing to assess for injury.
The shouts followed me and I heard the jingle of the gate as they tried to open it quickly. I made it to the edge of the forest before I heard the dogs barking. I muffled a sob, running as fast as I could, praying I wasn’t going to trip over branches or roots as I sailed past the trees. I never ran this fast before but at this point I’m pretty sure I was surviving off of adrenaline alone. I leapt over a large root, gasping as a stitch developed in my side.
I could still hear the dogs behind me but they weren’t as close as before. I hoped that was a good thing and it wasn’t that the ones who had been closest were just really quiet.
There was a stream up ahead of me. I had no idea how deep it was, or if it would slow me down to cross it but I didn’t have time to stop and evaluate. I threw myself forward, trying to cross as much of it as I could in one go.
NOT A STREAM! NOT A STREAM! It was a freaking river and I disappeared under the water the minute I hit the middle of it. The force of it dragged me downstream and I had to kick hard to break the surface. I knew how to swim but the flow of the river was strong and freezing and I was already exhausted. I had no idea how long I was dragged downstream before I finally caught a branch and was able to pull myself out.
I was soaked through and my limbs felt heavy. I couldn’t hear the dogs anymore or the shouts. I hoped that was a good thing. I dragged myself forward, pushing onto my knees. I wanted to lay down and rest but I knew better. I either kept going or I ended up back in that house again.
Forcing myself to my feet, I stumbled forward. I wrapped my arms around myself, shivers making my teeth chatter. It was the summer but for some reason that river was icy cold. I kept glancing over my shoulder, worried I would turn around and see flashlights or a dog heading my way. I picked up the pace, jogging toward a break in the trees.
ChapterTwenty-Eight
When I sawbuildings in front of me, I almost broke down. I didn’t know what side of town I was on but I knew one thing, if I could get to a phone, I could call for help. My strength was waning and I wasn’t sure how much longer I could keep going. Getting out of the river took most of my energy.
I was so focused on trying to figure out if the closest buildings would be safe to head to, I wasn’t watching my feet. I tripped on a root but instead of falling to the ground, which probably would’ve only hurt a little, I ended up flying off the edge of a small cliff.
It happened so fast, I couldn’t even scream. One minute, I was jogging lightly through the forest, the next I was slamming into the ground and rolling down a rocky hill. I threw out my hands, trying to catch myself but there was nothing to catch onto. I didn’t stop rolling and falling until I smacked into a large boulder at the bottom of the cliff.
I crumpled in on myself. Either the adrenaline was running out or that was too much for my brain to block out because I felt every scrape, every rock tearing through me. My vision went dark for a minute but I fought to stay conscious. I was so close, I couldn’t stop now.
I tried to roll onto all fours but my left arm dangled uselessly at my side. It was probably dislocated. Or broken. Or both. I used my good arm to push me to my knees, whimpering with every movement. I was about to push myself to my feet when I heard the rumble of motorcycles again. I dropped to my belly. There was tall grass by the boulder and I crawled into it without a second thought. I really hope there aren’t any critters in here.
There was a large street hugging the wall of the forest, separating it from the buildings beyond it. A familiar group of motorcycles drove past, but they didn’t slow down when they passed my hiding spot. Good, they must not know I’m here. The river dragged me pretty far, it's possible they thought I was farther away.
Once they were well out of sight, I pushed to my feet, cradling my arm against me. Every movement hurt and I was starting to question how far I could keep going. I hustled across the street as fast as my broken body allowed, ducking down the first alley I could. I didn’t want to walk along the main streets because I worried they’d find me. Walking through alleys at night in Chicago was dangerous but probably better than getting caught by a motorcycle gang.
I hobbled through the alleys, past homeless people in their cardboard houses, dumpsters, and even a couple trying to get it on outside a club. It was the club that gave me hope. I was getting closer to large groups of people and that meant I could probably find somewhere to stop and ask for help.
The line for the club was too long and I doubt they would have cared if I asked them to use a phone. I kept walking a little more until I saw a bar on the corner of the street. Since there were motorcycles out front, I was going to avoid it but the sign above it made me pause. It was an Irish pub. What was the likelihood that a motorcycle gang that hated the O’Connors would hang out in an Irish pub?
I hugged the buildings, lurching across the streets. I was moving too slow and I was going to end up being caught if I didn’t hurry my ass up. But my body wasn’t listening anymore. It took all of my strength just to cross the street without collapsing. I clenched my jaw, determined to make it up the steps and into that pub, when the roar of motorcycles in the distance hit my ears.
I gasped, lunging up the stairs and through the door without hesitation. I slammed it shut behind me, drawing the attention of the entire pub. Including someone I knew.
Relief slammed into me and I took a step forward. Viktor was leaning against the bar, his eyes wide as he watched me stumble forward. I wanted to say something, to ask for help but apparently my body was done. I reached out for him but my legs gave out and I hit the ground hard and for the second time, everything went dark.
* * *
Never in a thousandyears did I ever think there was a possibility that I would end up fleeing through a forest and nearly dying. It was so outside the scope of possibility that when I finally managed to wake up, I thought it was a dream. Maybe all of it was a dream. I’d wake up in my own bed and everything that had happened would be just a nightmare conjured up from too many late night video games.
I didn’t open my eyes at first. I don’t know what I was waiting for but it felt terrifying to open them and find out the truth. I felt drowsy and weak but not in nearly as much pain as I remembered. It definitely could have been a dream…
When I finally got the courage to open my eyes, I certainly wasn’t expecting to see a room filled with people. I was in a hospital bed, which dashed away all my hopes of it being a dream. Along one wall was a cot where Dmitriy and Gabi slept. Nearer to the door was a recliner. Jo was in Liam’s lap and both of them were asleep. And at my side, holding my hand, was James. He was sitting on a chair, as close to me as he could get, his upper body resting on my bed as he slept.
I wanted to cry, seeing them all here, both in relief and a little bit in fear. If they were here, then it wasn’t a dream and I was kidnapped and I had no idea if the bad guys were still out there. My chin trembled and I squeezed my eyes closed.
“Oh, you’re awake,” a soft quiet voice broke through my panic. My eyes snapped open, looking around.
A young hispanic woman stood on the opposite side of my bed from James. She had wild curly hair and a gentle smile on her face. Behind her was a man who looked oddly familiar. I frowned at him, worried I knew him from the motorcycle gang or something. He didn’t look like someone who would ride a motorcycle though. He looked like a model, his dark hair falling onto his forehead.
