Page 78 of Sick(ness)

She set the mug down with a silent click and lunged for the handgun Sawyer had left her. The metal burned ice-cold against her palm as she thumbed off the safety, her pulse hammering in her throat.

Creak. The porch boards outside flexed under weight.

” Who’s there?” The words scraped out of her desert-dry mouth.

Nothing but wind.

The back window exploded inward. Shards of glass sliced the air like crystallized screams. Two shadows crashed through the jagged frame, the same men who’d been watching them. Addy’s finger convulsed on the trigger. The gun kicked back, deafening her. A dark spray erupted from one man’s shoulder. He howled, stumbling but surging forward, eyes wild with rage.

She bolted for the kitchen, slamming into a chair. It crashed to the floor as boots thundered behind her. The scalding pot still hissed on the stove; she seized it and hurled the contents backward. The man’s scream pierced the cabin as his skin blistered red, steam rising from his beard.

The second attacker tackled her from the side. His weight crushed the air from her lungs as calloused fingers dug into her wrist, twisting until bones ground together. The gun clattered away. She drove her knee upward, connecting with something soft. He grunted but slammed her skull against the wall. Stars exploded behind her eyes.

” Fucking hurry!” the scalded one snarled through clenched teeth. “They’ll be back any minute! “

Addy clawed at his eyes, ripped at his ears, bit down on flesh until she encountered the metallic flavor. The man cursed and backhanded her. Her teeth cut into her cheek as the door crashed open, winter air knifing into the cabin.

His name tore from her throat—a desperate prayer hurled into the void as they dragged her thrashing body across frozen ground, blood from her split lip painting crimson constellations in the snow.

Until darkness swallowed everything.

* * *

The truck’s tires skidded as Sawyer turned off the main road, gravel spraying behind them. The cabin came into view through the trees, too still, too quiet.

Jay leaned forward. “You see that? “

Sawyer’s stomach dropped. “Yeah,” he said, his voice low. “No smoke. “

The chimney stood cold against the pale morning sky. Addy never let the fire go out. Ever. But perhaps she had drifted off to sleep? Or stepped outside for a moment?

Jay shifted his rifle across his lap. “Something’s off. “

Sawyer’s hands clenched the wheel, then loosened, then clenched again. “We stop here. “

He killed the engine thirty yards out. The silence that followed was almost deafening. They got out, boots crunching on frozen gravel. The air was still. Sawyer wanted to run toward the cabin, but forced himself to move slowly and methodically.

They approached on foot, rifles drawn. The closer they got, the worse it looked. No movement inside. The door hung half-open, one hinge broken.

” Addy?” Sawyer called, his voice tight. No answer. He tried again, louder this time, hoping desperately she’d just wandered off. “Addy! “

Jay moved past him, crouching near the steps. “Tracks,” he muttered. “Fresh ones. Two, possibly three sets. “

Sawyer pushed into the cabin, heart hammering between hope and dread. The air was freezing. The fire had gone out completely. A chair lay overturned, and one of Addy’s blankets was half-dragged toward the doorway.

He knelt beside it, fingers brushing the fabric. Part of him wanted to clutch it to his chest; another part wanted to throw it across the room in rage. “She fought,” he murmured.

Jay joined him, scanning the floor. The coffee mug Addy had used that morning was shattered. Blood—just a smear—streaked the doorframe. “Yeah,” Jay said. “She didn’t go without a fight. “

Sawyer stood, breath ragged, eyes darting toward the broken window. Outside, tracks led away from the cabin and down toward the frozen lake.

” They took her that way,” he said, voice trembling. He wanted to charge after them immediately, but knew that would be suicide. Yet waiting seemed impossible.

Jay studied the prints. “Two men. One’s hurt. They’re dragging her; see how deep the snow’s pressed? She’s conscious, fighting. “

Sawyer’s jaw worked. “Then she’s alive.” The words came out half-statement, half-question.

Jay nodded. “For now.”