ChapterSeven
Sunny barreled through the willows, ducking as bullets whizzed by. Rain and branches pelted her face, obstructing her vision. It could also be the tears rushing down her face. She couldn’t stop them, not with terror building in her brain like a microburst in a thunderstorm. Any minute and it’d let loose, shattering what little thought process she had left.
Her pack snagged on a tree and yanked her backwards. She lurched forward and ripped it free. Maybe she should drop her pack? She went to unbuckle it as another round of bullets zipped by. One pinged against her gear with a deafening crunch, and she jerked her hand away from the buckle.
It wasn’t much, but the pack offered some protection. She hefted it up and veered into a tighter bunch of willows. Besides, if she dropped her pack, she’d have nothing—no shelter, no food, no communication—nothing. Best to keep the thing on.
She needed to find better ground that didn’t tell the men exactly where she was going. Where was a good muskeg swamp or muddy creek when she needed it?
“She’s near. Split up.” A man’s yell came way too close.
How would she get away from them? She was going to die out there in the wilderness all alone, and no one would find her body or know what happened. Her parents would freak, search the entire wilderness for her, but the bears or wolves would probably get to her carcass first.
Why? Why did she ever think solo trekking through Alaska’s rough terrain was a smart idea?
To be fair, she’d expected to run into bears or moose, not homicidal psychopaths. She shook her head to clear it of the vision of Justin’s shocked expression. The men hadn’t even said anything, just started firing.
Oh, Lord, Justin.
Sunny growled and shook her head again to clear her tears. She couldn’t think about that. Couldn’t let her grief distract her. Dark spots swam in her vision, and she took as deep a breath as she could.
The temptation to look back clawed at her. She pushed it down. If she didn’t focus on what was ahead of her, she’d trip, and they’d be on her like a pack of starving wolves.
A shadow darted through the willows beside her. She clamped her mouth closed against the scream that wanted loose. There was no way she’d give them the satisfaction of hearing her cry out again. Besides, if they’d split up, she might be able to overpower one.
But only if she didn’t give her position away to the other.
She willed her legs to move faster. The shadow disappeared. Had she just seen things in her fear?
Focusing back on the trees before her, she gasped when they disappeared to a small clearing.
“This way, quick,” a low voice said right next to her.
A hand clamped around her bicep, sending freezing terror through her. She exploded, not thinking of what to do, just reacting. She threw her elbow up, connecting with a crack to her attacker’s nose. Spinning low, she knocked her opponent’s legs out from under him. The weight of her pack unbalanced her and sent her to the ground as well. She scrambled away, trying to gain her feet in the slippery moss and mud.
“Ma’am. I’m here to hel––” The man grunted as she kicked his hands away.
Did he really think she’d listen?
She got to her feet, but he grabbed her legs, face planting her into the mud. He spoke again, but she couldn’t hear his words over the roaring in her ears. He rolled her over, and she erupted into a flurry of punches and kicks. She wasn’t thinking, just doing everything she could to get away and keep alive. His hands kept snatching at hers, making it impossible to get a hold of any weapon to help her.
She didn’t want to die there.
Didn’t want to draw her last breath alone.
Mud smeared down her face into her eyes. She couldn’t make out her attacker. He was simply a shadowy form. Probably for the best. If she was going to die, she really didn’t want to watch him pull the trigger.
“I’m trying to help. Please, stop,” the man demanded again in a low, harsh whisper.
No way. She’d never stop. She’d fight like a rabid wolverine to her death. At least then, she’d go down with the pride and courage worthy of her family’s heritage.
A blow hit her head like a sledgehammer.
Forceful.
Blunt.
She tasted metal. Her ears rang and vision tunneled. Then, sound and sight disappeared. The silence was deafening… terrifying.