Another shot came, then a noise to my left, Lulu letting loose in the distance.
My lungs burned, my legs pumping as I tore through the forest. My pack weighed me down, the straps biting into my shoulders, but I didn’t stop. I couldn’t stop.
Lulu’s barking kept ringing through the chaos.
“Go ahead, run,” the man called out. “If you make it out today, good for you. But I’ll find you. Girls like you? Always leave a trail. Friends, family, a sweet little mom and dad. Just sayin’.”
My chest heaved. I veered right, leaping over a fallen log, twigs snagging at my pants.
Footsteps pounded behind me.
My ankle twisted on a root, and pain flared up my leg.
Go, go, go!
I crashed through the brush, my lungs screaming, my heart a drum in my throat.
Another gunshot.
Then silence.
But I kept running.
Minutes blurred together. My breath tore out of me in ragged gasps, my feet barely touching the ground.
The barking faded.
Then nothing.
I didn’t slow down. Not until my body forced me to, until my knees nearly buckled, my vision tipped sideways, and I had to slap a hand against a tree to steady myself.
I choked on air, my head snapping back to listen.
The man was gone.
I swallowed, forcing oxygen into my lungs. That was when I felt it, cold liquid trickling down my leg.
Not blood.
Water.
Hands shaking, I yanked off my pack and turned it over. The first casualty was my stainless-steel water bottle. There were two holes—one punched clean through the front, the other torn out the back. The metal around them was warped. It had to be the stiff-necked mobster’s bullet. The shot had ripped through and kept going.
A few inches over, and that would’ve been me.
I inspected the rest of the pack, trying to find where it exited. Since it wasn’t lodged in me (I didn’t think so, anyway), it had to be buried in there somewhere. Luck, maybe, considering how bulky the thing was. But they also said you made your own luck.
A cold sweat broke over my skin. I grabbed the bottle and shook it, but it was useless. There were just a few drops left.
Yeah,damn. Jimmy was supposed to bring the big bottles.
I wet my cracked lips. This was bad. I had to find water.
Legs aching, I pushed on. The slope pitched steeply, the ground slick from the damp. I half-stumbled, catching myself against trees and ducking under branches.
Then the rain came. It was a mist at first, kissing my face like a blessing. Then more. A steady sheet.
“Yes!” I murmured.
