Blood on my hands.

Blood on my hands.
The forest hums with life all around me. I twirl about, gazing up at the canopy, searching for the birds that sing sweetly. I can't believe I have been stuck inside of the cabin for so long, deprived of this beautiful scenery. Even feeling the sun on my face is euphoric. Just as euphoric as the fresh air compared to the stale musky air of the basement.

The sun breaks through the cracks, lighting up the dirt path ahead of me, decorated with outgrown roots, wildflowers and fallen leaves that crunch beneath my feet. I trudge on, taking in the fragrance of minty grass and the damp earth as two guards follow closely behind me, armed with pistols. I'm aware of their eyes watching my every move and I'm thinking of ways to throw them off.

Unknown to them, I have a secret weapon.


The first thing I did after Nick got me out of the basement was to go to the bathroom. I sent a quick message to Ross and Guzman. Guzman replies quickly. The battery of the phone was about to die but Guzman managed to tell me that they were able to trace my location and that I have to be very careful and stay low and quiet when the fight begins. He also briefly mentioned that I should get my hands on anything to defend myself.

After leaving the bathroom, Nick led me to the kitchen when I told him that I was hungry. I asked him for some privacy and he led the guards out of the kitchen while he made me a sandwich with a rifle next to him. He made the stupid mistake of letting me sit exactly in front of the drawers that held knives on the counter table and I am able to pick one without him noticing. I honestly couldn't believe that he trusted me enough and whole heartedly not to escape. Or maybe because he thinks that me escaping would be a futile attempt. I hid it in the band of my sweatpants and silently prayed that he didn't notice.

After an uneasy lunch of grilled sandwich, the first real meal I've had in days. I begged Nick to let me go for a walk.
He allowed me with two guards accompanying me. I am in thoughts thinking of what I am going to do with the knife hidden at the side of my belly.


I stop for a while admiring the scenery, wondering why it is so quiet and serene and just how far away I must be from New York not to hear the city's music.

Suddenly one of the guards who is following me pauses to look at his phone and frowns. Whispers something to the other.

"Get her far away from here. The car's just north of the cabin. Prepare to transport her to the next location on the boss's orders"

He orders as he walks away.

The other comes forward and presses a gun to the back of my head, my heart skips a beat and suddenly threatens to rip out of my ribcage as fear makes me frozen stiff.

"Move. Make no noise. If you do, I'm going to shoot your leg." He threatens in a low dangerous voice.

If they are transferring me to another location, it can only mean that Ross is here, or Guzman or the Calvary or whoever the hell is coming. But they're not going to find me if I'm leaving the cabin, I think as the guy nudges me again, pushing me farther and farther away from the cabin.


I have to do something, the guard's threat is real, I think as he nudges me to walk faster with his gun. Tears blur my vision as I start to think of a hundred and one ways to get out of the situation that I am in.

I have to leave.

I have to do something.


The idea rams through me with same force of the gun the guard uses to nudge my head for the third time.

And suddenly, I'm falling as if I trip on some invisible wire that snag my foot, bending so low that I am able to retrieve the knife from it's hiding place.

I turn fast and plunge. So fast that I feel dizzy after the spin and I am vaguely aware of something wet and sticky coating my hands as the guards eyes go wide with shock.

I hold on to the knife as the guard slowly falls on his knees. For a moment I'm horrified by all the blood.
My instincts kick in the moment his gun drops from his hands and I find myself picking up the one thing that I dread the most.

The guard isn't dead, he is far from it but he is still in intense pain as he clutches his side. I contemplate whether or not to shoot him or plunge the knife into him again.

Running would be a better option, I tell myself as I take off in the opposite direction.

Running while you're eight months pregnant and your life is in imminent danger is scary and hard, but it is my only option as I scale through the woods following the path that looks like a dirt road.

I debate on whether or not to stop and get the phone that is about to fall off from the confines of my underwear and call Ross or Guzman but the voices of guards I hear approaching me makes me run even faster.

I look back only for a moment and find two guards after me, closely gaining on me, they're far enough not to get a clear shot of me, but at my pace, they're close enough to outrun me in the next three minutes.

I pause for a while and look at the gun in my hand. I've never used one before, or had to fire one, but how hard can it be? It's pointing the right way, all I have to do is shoot.

I pull the trigger.


The sound is startling. And loud and deafening. But I do it again.

And again.


I'm not only inexperienced at shooting a gun, I'm also inexperienced at firing a clear and a proper shot.

The gunshots only fuel their anger as they start to run faster and panic swells inside me so fast I turn back to continue the run for my life.

I'm still running and the guards are gaining up on me when I notice the figure of someone in the woods running towards me.

"Get down! Get down Elenora! Get down!"

It's Guzman!

Guzman!

I think as I do as he tells me. Getting down on all fours on the dirty grassy floor as he tell me to.

And then I hear the gunshots, each and every one of them.

Guzman runs in front of me in the speed of light, pulling me up and behind him with effortless ease as we slowly back away.

I'm suddenly aware of the police next to him. About two cops in NYPD uniforms apprehend the guards and shout at them to seize fire.

Guzman leads me out of the commotion quickly.


There's a van just at the end of the dirt road path and I enter it wordlessly. I dig into my pants to retrieve the phone to find out it's dead.

I turn to Guzman who looks relieved.

"Are you okay ma'am? There's an hospital a few miles from here."


Am I okay? I think.

No, I'm not. The past few days have been the most traumatic experience of my life.

I raise my hands up and see the blood on my hands and I am suddenly overwhelmed by a sickening feeling that has me hurling my guts outside the van's window.

I retch and retch until the last of my sandwich lunch is out of me and all that is left is bitter bile.

Guzman brings me water to rinse my mouth and hands. And we get back into the van the same time the police arrives.

Apparently they are able to apprehend Nick and some of the guards. They are about six guards. One dead, two injured and the others willingly surrendered.


Where the hell is Ross?

"Guzman?"

"Ma'am?" He asks as he rushes to my side.

"Where is Ross?"

I didn't want Guzman to be the one to come and get me. No, it should have been Ross. Where the hell is he? I look around and find Nick being led away in cuffs. I don't feel anything as he glares at me. Nothing at all, not even the urge to march up to him and slap him like I've wanted to do for a while.

"Before we saw your message, Ross went to see his father. Lucas Cassias was able to come up with evidence that tied his father to Carter's crimes. So he wanted to confront him thinking he had you. I've been trying his number ever since, no answer."

"Do you know where he is?"

Guzman nods.

"We planted a tracking device in his phone, since his father wanted to meet him in an undisclosed location. I know where he is. But once I saw your message and he wasn't picking up his phone, I had to send for the rescue team. You were top priority Mrs Elenora"

I bury my hands in my face wondering what the fuck was Ross thinking entering the lion's den.
If he had any proof that his father is working with Carter, he shouldn't have gone alone.

"Why? Why did he go? And why did he go alone?"


I cry and Guzman shakes his head.

"His father wanted him to come alone. And we were desperate, we didn't know where you were. Nick fed us wrong leads and we were back to square one. Ross thought that his father was the key to finding you."

I rest my head on the van deep in thoughts, I can't even imagine what Ross must be doing right now.

Is he signing his rights away?
Is he giving the island away?

Is he dying or taking a bullet thinking it would get us back?

What is he going to do?

How will we ever get to him fast enough?


"Guzman. You have his location?" I ask as I start getting into the car.

I don't even want to think of the million and one things happening to me at the moment, my throbbing head, the ache in my chest, the pain in my back and my bladder that seemed like it wants to erupt any second from now.

I push them all aside and try to concentrate on Ross.

Guzman nods and raises his phone to show me a map pinpointing Ross's location.

"Let's go get my husband."