They had no choice. Running was their only option, and she knew it. Melene pivoted and took off at a sprint. Thomas was so close to her backside that he clipped her heel. She stumbled and for a horrific moment, she was certain she’d hit the dirt. But heavenly hands seemed to balance her and she kept flying forward. She flung one foot in front of the other at the fastest pace she’d ever run, and she’d beaten state records back in high school.
Low curses came from behind and then the dreaded footsteps taking up pursuit. Melene maintained her pace through the moon-dappled forest. Thankfully, Thomas kept up and neither of them tripped or ran into a tree. The men weren’t as fast, and she could sense them falling behind. That was the only good news of the night.
Would they shoot at them? She flinched just imagining them pulling their guns and taking aim. She’d been in many dangerous situations throughout the past few years, but a known murderer, the right-hand man of the most evil man currently on the planet, chasing her through a dark forest with a fourteen-year-old relying on her to save him, might top them all.
She burst out of the forest trail and almost flew off the ledge and to the rocks and ocean below them. Grabbing a tree branch, she whirled around and slid onto the ocean path. Thomas stayed right behind her. Her brain screamed at her to slow down so she didn’t plunge off the cliff, but she’d risk splatting on the rocks over being caught by General Phillip.
Thomas panted for air behind her. They had no coverage now that they were out of the trees. The half-moon had seemed a blessing earlier, but now it felt like a curse. Out here on this ledge, the men could pick them off like ducks.
Luckily, no gunshots yet. Did that just mean the men knew they’d catch them eventually, and they wanted to know who they were and what she and Thomas had heard before they tortured and killed them? The men also hadn’t yelled or called out to them. It was eerie. Especially as the thud of their heavier footsteps seemed to grow louder. Was it her fear that made their footfalls reverberate so loudly through her head?
All she knew was she could not afford to stop or slow down.
Melene had been dubbed “sunshine” and “sweetness” by children and their parents in different languages the world over. She felt like neither right now. “Horror” and “darkness” were all she could feel.
The trail split in front of her. Melene could stay on the ridge and run the half mile back to their camp. She and Thomas were faster, but the men would easily follow them and catch them when they reached camp.
More people might mean safety, but their camp had no military support or healthy men between the ages of fifteen and sixty. The men were either fighting with the rebels or they’d been killed or conscripted into Frederick’s army. A ruthless leader like General Phillip might kill more than just her and Thomas if she led him to the refugee camp. She couldn’t willingly put those people on that man’s radar.
She squinted into the darkness and could make out the other trail. It led down through craggy rocks and to the beach and ocean. Choosing that direction looked to be a completely idiotic choice. If she remembered right, the beach wrapped around the cliffs and back to some restaurants, bars, and shops, but she wasn’t certain if this was that spot. If it was an isolated beach, they could swim to get away, but more likely she would trap herself and Thomas. The men behind them would easily extract their information and then kill them. She knew her calling in life was risky, but she’d never been in mortal peril this deep, or worse, put a child in danger.
She said a prayer for direction and darted down toward the beach.
“Melene,” Thomas hissed from behind her, obviously thinking it was the wrong choice. She half expected him to go the other direction, but he followed her.
Dumb, dumb, dumb. Why had she gone this way? Was she following inspiration or desperation? It was hard to know when she was terrified and running for her life.
She kept scrambling over rocks and down the steep trail, her speed significantly limited by the terrain. Almost halfway down, she let herself glance back.
The general appeared at the top of the trail, and his cohort stepped up next to him. The light of the moon glinted off the sharp planes of his face. He gave her a leering smile that made her skin crawl. This man was pure evil, and he was going to enjoy trapping and torturing her.
ChapterTwo
Melene hurried down the precarious trail as fast as she could. Tripping over a rock, she went down hard, scraping her knees and palms on the uneven boulders. She cried out.
“Okay?” Thomas asked, helping her back to her feet.
No! She wasn’t okay, and he wasn’t going to be okay.
Please help, she begged anyone in heaven who had a spare minute.Sorry Gramma Larue, she also muttered in her head. Her grandmother was going to give her the tongue-lashing of her life when she saw her again. Would that be on this earth, or would Melene be killed tonight and have to dread what was coming from her grandmother until she joined her in heaven?
“Yep,” she grunted, lying to Thomas as blood trickled down her knees.
The minor injury was the least of her concerns as she heard pebbles being dislodged from above. The two men had started picking their way down the steep trail.
Melene hurried as fast as she dared. General Phillip wasn’t in a hurry. He thought he had them trapped, and he was probably the type who enjoyed toying with his prey and making them suffer before he mercilessly tortured and then killed them.
He was most likely right in assuming she was trapped, but Melene refused to give up. Pushing her terror aside, she knew she’d felt inspired to go this way. She had to trust in that. She would pray they could run along the beach and get lost in the restaurants or bars that would still be open around the other side of the cliff. Worst case, if the beach didn’t continue around the bend like she was visualizing, they’d swim to escape him. She would focus her positivity and faith on living another day to serve and lift and give love. Most importantly, she had to keep Thomas alive.
If not, please let Grammy Larue forgive me for “getting’ meself killed in them darn jungles.”
She almost smiled thinking of her outspoken grandmother back home in Colorado. At least her family was safe back at home. On the hard days, that always helped her get through.
She scrambled down the trail and finally skirted around the last rock. Sinking in the thick sand, she plunged to the left, praying and praying for protection and an escape route. The cliffs rose around her, and she recognized instantly she’d made an idiotic, death-certificate-signed mistake.
This wasn’t the beach that connected to the restaurants. It was a beautiful, sheltered cove. Probably paradise to anyone on a bright, sunny day. At least to someone who wasn’t being hunted and hadn’t just trapped themselves and an innocent boy with a homicidal British maniac and his companion.
Glancing back, she could see General Phillip easing down the last half of the incline. He caught her gaze on him and gave her a wink and a grin. Her stomach churned. He was mocking her. It was obvious he enjoyed the terror he was inspiring.