Holy shit. The cabin.
She’s back at the cabin.
She made a full damn circle.
“Oh, Jesus,” Sal moans, dipping low to catch her breath. Her knees want to give out. Her lungs are on fire, black spots doing a dance in her vision.
That’s when she hears it. An engine. A truck.
Sal’s head snaps up.
Luke.
Luke’s knuckles go white on the wheel.
Emerging from the cover of trees is Sal. He can’t stop the fear, the relief, he feels as he takes in his wife. Limping, her long dark hair disheveled, looking tired and tiny as she braces her palms on her knees and hangs her head.
“There, there, there!” Seth slams his palm on the dash as if Luke doesn’t see her. As if his own damn heart isn’t fracturing at the sight of Sal.
“She’s fuckin’ there, Luke.” Seth’s voice a wet rasp. He’s already cracking the passenger-side door, readying to jump out.
Jace is gaping. “Holy shit,” he breathes.
That’s when Sal glances up. A sob escapes her when she sees the truck. Then she smiles. She surges forward, stumbling slightly, in pain, and still, she moves.
For Luke.
It’s the pistol start of his life. He slams on the brakes. He’s out of the truck and running. Racing for her.
Sirens fill the air, minutes away. Heartbeats.
Luke’s barely aware of his surroundings. Of Seth next to him, in a run, charging toward her.
But then the cabin’s front door slams open.
Sal’s expression of relief turns to terror.
It’s Chris. His leg covered in blood, his face red and twisted, a knife in his hand.
His and Sal’s paths converging.
And Luke’s far away, still too damn far away.
“Sal!” Luke yells.
She whirls as Chris runs at her. In horror, Luke watches as he angles the knife at Sal’s abdomen. Quick, she jumps back, cradling her stomach with her arms. Her ragged cry pierces the air as the blade slices deep into her arm.
Chris tries again. Sal staggers backwards. Tired now, fading, trapped.
A loud bleat of a horn cuts the air.
Chris turns, blinking, surprised by the sound.
A quick glance at each other, then Luke and Seth both split directions. Like when they’re on stage, they’re in sync, so fucking in sync, so that when Luke grabs up Sal, Seth, using the opportunity created by Jace, explodes past Luke and slams into Chris. He rams them shoulder to shoulder, sending them and the knife sprawling into the dirt and the weeds.
“Motherfucker,” Seth snarls, landing a knockout punch to the jaw before Chris can get his bearings.
Sal twists in Luke’s arms, craning to see over his shoulder. “Seth ...”