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Guards pace back and forth in the main driveway, which means I have to go through the courtyard and over the back fence. It’s chain-link and will definitely alert the guards to my escape, but at this point, I don’t fucking care.
I’ll take my chances on the fact that I’m too expensive for Zakrevsky to allow his men to shoot me.
Voices carry across the courtyard and make me freeze against the adobe wall. From what I can pick up through the muffled voices, it sounds like the guards posted back here are escorting the other slaves to the basement.
I wish I had the time, and the resources, to break them free.
But right now, I have to focus on getting back to my little girl.
I wait for the voices to fade before I risk darting across the courtyard. Thankfully, the solar lamps don’t give enough light to announce my presence—and what guards are left nearby are too busy pouring drinks in the kitchen. I don’t risk stopping long enough to glance around; best to just aim for the fence.
Almost there.
Just have to climb and?—
Strong arms wrap around me and pull me away from the fence. A hand clamps down over my mouth.
No. No, no, no?—
I was so, so close to salvation.
TO BE CONTINUED
