I scrambled for my bottle and angled the mouth skyward. Rain splattered in, rising just enough to reach the bullet holes before leaking straight out. It was not much, but enough to keep me going.
My teeth chattered. The temperature had dropped fast.
I’d planned for this trip. I knew how to hike. But knowing something in theory and dealing with it while wet, freezing, and chased by a lunatic were two different things.
Still, I could figure this out.
I wasn’t helpless.
I wasn’t an idiot.
I just needed shelter before it was completely dark.
The thought pushed me forward. My boots sank into the mud, the slope getting more dangerous.
I nearly wiped out twice before I saw it.
A shallow, rocky overhang, half-hidden by a cluster of trees. It was not perfect, but it was low enough to keep me concealed and deep enough to block the wind.
I half-slid down the slope, gripping roots to keep from tumbling. When I finally reached the rock, I ducked inside, pressing myself against the cold stone.
Rain eased, and water dripped from the edge of the overhang.
Then, high above, came a faint glint of light.
Maybe I was seeing things. Maybe not.
As the drizzle sifted through the leaves, I heard him crashing through the trees, moving with purpose.
I pressed deeper into the rock, barely breathing.
He was too high up to see me. He had to be. But the light flickered again, shifting, movingaway.
Then…nothing.
No barking. No footsteps.
I checked the map. My phone battery was blinking low. GPS showed another trail nearby: Raven Bluff. If I could reach it, it’d lead straight to a town called Buffaloberry Hill.
I was freezing, dead tired, and running on nothing but adrenaline. But I told myself that worst-case scenarios were my specialty. “I can do this.”
Funny thing? If toenail Jimmy hadn’t pulled his crap, I wouldn’t be this fired up. The old Autumn Jones would’ve curled up and called this the worst day of her life.
Well, yeah, it was. Before this, the worst thing I’d everendured was tearing my ACL in the middle of Idaho’s state swimming championships. One second, I was surging through the water, and the next, everything stopped. There was a snap and a shock so deep it left me gasping.
The pain wasn’t the worst part. Waiting to heal was.
Waiting it out in the middle of Montana’s soaked wilderness was officially worse, but I wasn’t done yet.
I just had to make it through the night.
2
DOMINIC POWELL
Los Angeles, California
I knew it before I even opened my eyes—the distant traffic, the whir of a ceiling fan, the faint scent of perfume in the sheets. Not my sheets.
