Page 107 of Every Last Breath

The Goodwill van had been abandoned where Route 1 connected to I-495. At the eastern border of Virginia, along the Potomac, but Novak was too clever to bury her there. Without knowing if the Ghost had gone north or south after ditching the van, Maddox could be anywhere. The Potomac stretched for miles.

Cole stood upright, regaining his composure. “I’m getting on that chopper.”

“Of course.” Castle nodded.

“Harper is close to hacking into the phone. Contact us in the helo when she does.” Everything was taking too much time. And Maddox was running out of it. She couldn’t die. If she did, the world wouldn’t be worth living in.

“Yeah, we can patch in. No problem. We’re going to find Maddox.” Castle gave a sharp affirmative nod. “Then we’re going to kill Novak.”

“The Ghost is mine. I get to kill him.” He wouldn’t do it quickly or painlessly with a bullet. He needed to take out that monster with his bare hands.

“Roger that.”

* * *

Somewhere along the Potomac River

11:37 a.m. EDT

Maddox popped the hard plastic zip tie securing her wrists. The tightness in her chest eased. She spat the rust from her mouth and worked on the zip tie binding her ankles.

She tugged at the strap of hard plastic as she sawed through it. “Come on. Damn you.”

The zip tie popped, freeing her ankles. With only a pair of cotton socks on her feet, she treaded softly around nails, puddles of sludge, and rusted pieces of metal.

When Novak had snuck up on her with the stun gun, she’d been in her underwear. He’d dressed her, shown a strange mercy. He was deadly, ruthless, but there was more to him.

Sections with piles of rusted mechanical parts carved up the space between wide-open bays. Gaze glued to the ground, she slipped carefully around trash as she made her way to the window. The last thing she needed was something stuck in her foot.

The view from the third floor was nothing but trees for 180 degrees. Where the hell was she?

Most likely Virginia, possibly Maryland. Novak could’ve even driven to West Virginia.

She checked her smartwatch. GPS was offline. Great. She wasn’t near civilization. She gazed out the window, determining which direction to head. About a mile out, beyond a loose cluster of trees and patch of grass, was a gray-blue slash of water. A river. The Potomac or the Shenandoah.

If she followed it, eventually she’d run close to a town with connectivity. In sneakers, the trek wouldn’t be a problem, but in socks, no telling how many miles, the terrain would eat up her feet. Not that she had a choice.

A small animal squeaked behind her, followed by a pitter-patter of critters, larger than rodents. She spun in the direction of the noise. Anything could be hiding in the rubble of this abandoned building.

She tiptoed down the staircase. A splinter in her foot could do enough damage to slow her down, and a gash would put an end to the journey before it started. On the first floor, trash, shards of metal, and broken glass riddled the ground in a mosaic of landmines—degrees of pain—from the staircase to the busted entrance.

To avoid frayed pieces of metal and shattered glass, she stepped into a cool, sticky puddle. The same black sludge she’d seen throughout the building. As she walked, the gummy substance left dark, tacky spots behind like little stamps of misery.

Thirst scratched at her parched throat. The only thing keeping her stomach from rebellion was the determination pooling in her veins as she inched toward the tree line.

Never one for the outdoors, a pure city girl, Maddox had never been happier to reach the forest. She treaded lightly, scanning the area. The tacky gunk saturating her socks stung her skin worse than salt in an open wound.

Leaning on a tree, she peeled off the socks. The soft grass was a staggering comfort.

She trekked through the grass. Rugged pieces of bark and rocks bit at her feet.

A violent thread of determination coiled in her core. She checked her smartwatch. The phone still didn’t work, but maps were online. West Virginia. Miles from a town. Following the river south looked like the best route.

The more distance she covered, the more the unforgiving terrain rubbed her tender feet. The bubbling rush of the river was a welcome sound, opening a world of possibility in her chest. Clenching her teeth through the pain, she used the trees to steady her footfalls. All she wanted was a soothing bath, a hot meal, to take a break from the grind. She was running on fumes but summoned her anger as fuel.

The Ghost had the upper hand again. If she didn’t get out of these woods and stop him, he’d succeed in unleashing a deadly virus. And that wasn’t an option.

She quickened her pace, coiling the thread in her gut ever tighter.