Chapter 42 BENEATH THE RIVER’S BREATH
Cold water stung Lea’s ankles as she waded into the stream. The current was fast, churning around her calves as if trying to sweep her away. The forest was a breathless shadow around them, every tree a black pillar against the moonlit sky.
George moved first, dragging Lacey with him, his grip firm but gentle. “Stay close. Don’t fight the current. Let it carry part of your weight.”
Lea nodded and stepped deeper.
The water soaked her jeans instantly, icy enough to burn. She sucked in air through her teeth, but forced her pace to match George’s. Behind her, branches cracked. Voices carried.
“They went this way!”
“Lights out, I can barely see!”
“Hurry up!”
Lea’s pulse turned to a hammer. The streambed was full of uneven rocks, mud that shifted under her feet, hidden crevices that threatened to pull her under.
She reached for George’s shoulder with her free hand, steadying herself even as the current surged. His muscles shifted beneath her fingers, solid, warm, grounding.
“Just a little more,” he murmured. “Deeper water means fewer tracks.”
Lacey struggled behind them, her breathing uneven. “I...I can’t feel my feet.”
“You will,” George said. “Cold keeps you awake.”
Lea nearly snorted. “That’s your encouragement?”
“It’s practical.”
A faint smile tugged at her lips despite everything.
Then a gunshot cracked the night.
Lea flinched violently. The bullet hit a tree close enough that bark sprayed across the surface of the water.
“Down!” George barked.
Lea ducked instantly, plunging her body lower into the stream, the cold slicing through her like ice. Lacey gasped but followed, shivering so hard Lea could hear her teeth clatter.
“Keep moving,” George hissed. “Crouched.”
They waded deeper, the water rising past their knees, their waists, soaking them to the bone. Lea’s breath came in sharp bursts, but she refused to slow.
Because behind them, the voices were getting louder.
“I see movement!”
“There, by the water!”
“Don’t shoot unless you’re sure!”
George pulled Lea close, whispering against her ear, “When I say dive, you dive. Understand?”
Her heart skipped. “Dive? George, the water...”
“Lea. Trust me.”
She swallowed hard but nodded.
They kept moving, deeper into the churning river. The moon disappeared behind a cloud, plunging them into near pitch black.
Then George’s voice came low, sharp.
“Now.”
Lea inhaled once, and dropped beneath the surface.
Cold swallowed her whole. Every nerve screamed. Her lungs tightened instantly. The river roared in her ears, drowning out everything else.
Hands grabbed her arm underwater, George. He pulled her lower, guiding her with practiced precision. Lea kept her eyes shut tight, kicking gently, letting the current drag them downstream.
Above the surface, muffled voices shouted.
“I saw something!”
“They’re in the water!”
“Spread out! Check the banks!”
Lea’s lungs burned. Her chest tightened. She fought the instinct to shoot upward for air.
George tugged her again, steady, patient, knowing exactly how long she could hold on.
Finally, jis hand squeezed hers.
Up.
Lea’s head broke the surface. She gasped for air, quiet but desperate. The forest around them was different, the trees thicker, the shadows deeper. They had drifted maybe fifty yards downstream.
George surfaced beside her, pulling Lacey upward.
The woman sputtered and choked out a weak sob. “I’m going to die. I swear I’m going to die”
“No one’s dying,” George said firmly. “Not tonight.”
He guided them toward the bank, low and hidden beneath an overhang of tangled roots. They crawled up silently, dripping, shivering, exhausted. Lea’s teeth chattered hard enough to hurt.
George crouched, scanned the darkness with trained eyes, and finally spoke.
“They’re searching upstream. We bought time.”
Lea pressed her hands to the ground, her fingers numb. “We can’t keep doing this all night.”
“I know,” George said. “But we move until they stop chasing.”
Lacey hugged herself. “They won’t stop. Marcus wants her” She nodded at Lea. “Alive.”
Lea’s stomach twisted. She wanted to be brave. Rational. Unshakeable. But the truth sat in her chest like a stone.
“I don’t understand why,” she murmured.
“He wants leverage,” George said. “He wants me cornered.”
“And Billy?” Lea whispered.
George hesitated. It was small, barely noticeable, but she felt it.
“Billy’s threading his own game. He didn’t come tonight to kill you.”
Lacey let out a shaky laugh. “Could’ve fooled me.”
“He came to scare me,” George corrected. “To herd us.”
“Herd us where?” Lea asked.
George’s silence chilled her more than the river.
The wind cut through their soaked clothes, making Lea’s bones ache. She wrapped her arms around herself, fighting the uncontrollable tremor running through her body.
George noticed instantly. He shifted closer, shrugging off his soaked jacket and draping it over her shoulders.
“George”
“You need it more than I do.”
“It’s freezing. You’re freezing.”
“I’ll live.”
Lea swallowed a knot of emotion.
Lacey frowned. “We need shelter. Heat. A fire. Something.”
“We can’t risk a fire,” George said. “They’ll see the smoke.”
“Then what?” Lea asked softly.
George pointed deeper into the forest. “We move toward the ridge. There’s an old ranger station, abandoned. And hidden.”
“How do you know about it?” Lacey asked.
George’s gaze sharpened. “Because Marcus used it once. Years ago.”
Lea’s breath hitched. “You mean”
“I mean,” George said quietly, “he doesn’t know that I know it’s still there.”
The climb was brutal.
The path up the ridge was slick with mud, roots twisting underfoot, the shadows stretching long and sharp. The forest grew denser, swallowing moonlight. Every few minutes George paused, listening for voices or footsteps.
Lea followed closely, her legs trembling with exhaustion, but her determination sharper than fear.
“You okay?” George murmured once, slowing his pace.
She nodded even though she wasn’t. “Keep going.”
He touched her back gently, barely there, but enough to steady her.
Lacey stumbled often, mumbling curses under her breath. George never spoke harshly, just pulled her up, urged her forward.
After nearly an hour of silent climbing, a faint outline appeared through the trees, a small wooden cabin tucked against the ridge, half-swallowed by vines and darkness.
The ranger station.
George motioned for them to stay back, then approached quietly, scanned the entrance, and nudged the door open with his foot.
Silence.
Then he signaled them forward.
Inside, the air was cold and stale, but dry. Cobwebs hung in the corners, and a thin layer of dust coated everything. But it was far better than the forest.
Lea stepped inside and felt her whole body sag.
George shut the door behind them, sliding the bolt into place.
“We rest here,” he said. “Just for a little while.”
Lacey collapsed onto the nearest cot, shivering violently. Lea crouched by the small desk, wrapping George’s jacket tighter around herself.
Her fingers still shook, but not from cold anymore.
George knelt in front of her, his hands gentle as he brushed a wet strand of hair from her face. “Your lips are blue.”
“So are yours,” she whispered.
He exhaled, a soft mix of frustration and relief. “Lea… I’m so damn sorry.”
“For what?” she murmured.
“For dragging you into this.”
“You didn’t drag me,” she said firmly. “Someone dragged us.”
George’s throat bobbed
But before he could speak, a distant crack echoed through the forest.
A twig snapping.
Lea stiffened. “They found us?”
“No,” George said quietly. “Not yet.”
“But someone’s out there.”
George rose slowly, moving to the window without making a sound.
He looked out into the trees, his silhouette sharp and tense.
“George?” Lea whispered.
He didn’t turn. “I see one figure. Alone.”
“Billy?” Lacey rasped.
“No,” George said. His voice dropped an octave.
“This walk… this posture… I know who it is.”
“Who?” Lea asked.
He stepped back from the window, jaw tight, eyes dark.
“Marcus.”
The name fell into the room like a blade.
And the night outside exhaled, heavy, waiting, alive with danger.