Page 47 of Cade


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When I’m certain the men have entered the cave, I run.

Pushing out from behind the rock, I use all my force to run down the path. I have no idea if I’m going to run into someone else, for all I know those two men aren’t alone. The moment I get to an easier area of the path, I’ll go off it and run through the woods instead just in case someone is waiting for me in the clearing.

Heart racing, I shove my way down the narrow trail.

“She’s running!”

The shrill sound of the radio tells me I’m not nearly far enough away.

“Shoot her.”

Oh, shit.

Shit.

Picking up the pace, I run with everything I have, praying to god they don’t shoot me. The moment I find it easier to get off the trail, that’s exactly what I do. Launching my body into the woods, I shove through the trees in the direction of the road I came in on. I could so easily get lost out here, and nobody would be able to find me.

I’m a god damn fool.

What was I thinking?

A GUNSHOT RINGS OUT, and I know I don’t have time to get back to my car. I need to hide, and I need to do it now. Panting, I frantically look around for anything that might shelter me. The only way is to go deeper into the woods until nightfall, when I might be able to get out without being seen. Pushing through the trees and shrubs, I find a cluster of bushes that are so thick, I don’t think anyone would see me in them.

Getting amongst them, though, means scratching myself up.

It’s that or die.

Gritting my teeth, I use my hands to push the shrubs aside, shoving my body into them until I’m in the middle. My arms burn with scratches, and it is less than comfortable amongst them. Their thorny branches rub against my body, even when I’m only moving slightly. If I had time, I sure as hell would have picked a better place to hide, but I don’t have time.

Keeping low, I listen out and can hear as the men approach. Their footsteps grow louder as they move down the path, and the constant crackle of the radio alerts me to their scarily close presence.

“She can’t go far. Get someone on the car that’s parked just up the road,” a voice yells across the radio. “Find out who she is and end her.”

They’re not messing around.

I’m in big fucking trouble here.

Carefully pulling out my phone, I see I have no service. It’s not a wonder they hide things out there, no cell service, only a radio can be used, which makes it far less likely for people to wander out this far.

“The car is empty,” a voice growls. “She hasn’t made it back which means she’s still out there. Secure every exit and do not fucking leave until you have her.”

Heart racing, I know this is bad. It’s really fucking bad. If I can’t get out the way I came in, then how the fuck am I going to get out at all? Closing my eyes, I take a minute to gather myself. I’m smart, I’ve been in worse situations than this, I can get out of here. I just can’t use the track. Peering through the shrubs, I see the woods only get thicker. I don’t know how I’m supposed to get through them easily, or without sound.

I just need to get far enough to get service, to get Cade to create a distraction, and maybe I can get out of here.

“She’s not anywhere on the path,” a voice yells out. “She must have gone off the track. Start lookin’, she can’t have gotten far in that scrub.”

If I stay here, they’ll find me, but I’m afraid if I move, they’ll hear me.

My eyes burn with unshed tears, because I’m a god damned idiot for thinking it was a good idea to snoop. I should have known somewhere like this wouldn’t remain unprotected, I am an old lady for Christ’s sake, I know how these things work. Staring down at my phone again, I type out a message to Cade so the very second I get service, I can send it.

I fucked up. I came to check out the location where Clara was last seen. They figured out I was here. I’m hiding but they’re going to find me soon. I’m stuck. You need to create a big enough distraction that I can get out. I’m sorry.

Carefully, moving inch by inch, I push out of the shrubs and keep down low as I crawl through the woods. I’m getting scratched and scraped, cut and poked, but I don’t stop. I crawl until the voices seem to be getting farther and farther away, which only means I’m getting deeper into the unknown and farther away from help. It’s the only option I have, so it’s the option I’ll take.

After an hour of crawling, my phone gets one bar. It comes and goes, so I pause, holding my breath as I stretch my hand up to the sky, praying it is enough to send the message. Opening it, I push send and watch with bated breath as the message loads for a few minutes, then the god damned amazing whoosh of it sending fills my ears.

Less than two minutes later, I get a reply.

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