Chapter 158 Nikolai
I dreamed of fire.
Flames everywhere. Consuming everything. The warehouse. The estate. The hospital. All of it burning, crumbling, turning to ash.
And in the center of the fire, Anya stood. Calling my name. Reaching for me. But every time I tried to reach her, the flames grew higher. Hotter. Impenetrable.
"Nikolai!"
Her voice was desperate. Frightened.
"Nikolai, wake up!"
I opened my eyes.
Not fire. Darkness. A cabin. A fire in the hearth. Viktor by the window, gun raised.
And Anya, her face inches from mine, her eyes wide with terror.
"Someone is outside," she whispered.
I tried to sit up. Pain shot through my leg, through my arm, through every part of my body. But I pushed through it. I had pushed through worse.
"How many?" I asked.
"I do not know. Viktor heard footsteps."
I reached for a weapon. There was none. My guns were gone. My knives were gone. Everything I had brought to the estate was lost in the chaos.
"Viktor," I called, keeping my voice low. "How many?"
"At least three. Maybe more. I cannot see them. They are staying in the trees."
Alexander's men. Had to be. No one else would follow us into the middle of nowhere.
"Can we fight them?"
"With what? I have one gun. Fifteen bullets. You are barely conscious. Anya has no training." Viktor's voice was grim. "We are outnumbered and outgunned."
"Then we run."
"Where? We are surrounded by forest. They know these woods better than we do. They will hunt us down before we reach the road."
I looked at Anya. At the fear in her eyes. At the way her hands shook.
I had promised to protect her. I had promised to keep her safe. And I had failed. Again and again.
But I would not fail tonight.
"Give me the gun," I said.
Viktor stared at me. "You cannot even stand."
"Give me the gun."
He hesitated. Then he walked over and pressed the weapon into my hand. It felt heavy. Cold. Familiar.
"I need you to do something for me," I said to Anya.
"Anything."
"Take Viktor and go out the back. There is a path behind the cabin. It leads to a creek. Follow the creek downstream. It will take you to the main road."
"What about you?"
"I will hold them off."
"No." Anya shook her head, tears spilling down her cheeks. "I am not leaving you again. I am not."
"You have to."
"I do not have to do anything." Her voice was fierce. "You are my husband. My home. My everything. And I am not leaving you to die alone in some cabin in the woods."
"Anya..."
"I said no."
I looked at Viktor. He shrugged. "She is stubborn. Like someone else I know."
The footsteps outside grew louder. Closer. They were surrounding the cabin.
"We do not have time for this," I said.
"Then stop arguing and let me help you." Anya grabbed my arm and pulled it over her shoulder. "Viktor, take his other side."
Viktor nodded and grabbed my other arm. Together, they lifted me to my feet. Pain screamed through my leg but I gritted my teeth and swallowed it.
"The back door," I said. "Now."
We hobbled across the room. Every step was agony. Every breath was fire. But I kept moving.
Anya kicked the back door open. Cold air rushed in. The forest was dark, the trees dense, the ground uneven.
"Stay close to me," Viktor said.
We stepped outside. The snow crunched beneath our feet. The wind howled through the trees.
A gunshot rang out.
The bullet hit the doorframe inches from my head. Splinters flew. Viktor pushed us forward, toward the trees, toward the darkness.
Another shot. This one hit a tree beside us. Bark exploded.
"Run!" Viktor shouted.
We ran. Or rather, they ran and dragged me along. My leg screamed. My lungs burned. But I kept moving.
Behind us, more gunshots. Voices shouting. Footprints in the snow.
We reached the creek. Frozen, mostly, but with patches of open water. Viktor led us along the bank, following the current downstream.
"Nikolai," Anya gasped. "There is blood. You are bleeding again."
I looked down. My bandages were soaked red. The wound had reopened. I was leaving a trail.
"They will follow the blood," I said.
"I know."
"Then leave me here. Take Anya and go."
"No."
"Viktor..."
"I said no." He kept moving. "Now shut up and save your strength."
We walked for what felt like hours. The gunfire faded behind us. The voices grew distant. But I knew they were still following. Men like Alexander's men did not give up.
Finally, we reached a small clearing. A road. Narrow and unpaved, but a road.
Viktor stopped. "We need a car."
"Nobody is coming," I said. "We are in the middle of nowhere."
But Anya was already walking toward something. A shape in the darkness. A car. An old one, rusted, abandoned, but a car.
"Can you start it?" she asked Viktor.
He ran to it, opened the door, and slid under the dashboard. Wires sparked. The engine coughed and died.
"Try again," I said.
He tried again. The engine coughed, sputtered, and roared to life.
Viktor grinned. "Get in."
Anya helped me into the back seat. Viktor took the wheel. The headlights cut through the darkness.
Behind us, flashlights appeared in the trees. Men shouting. Guns raised.
Viktor slammed his foot on the gas. The car shot forward, tires spinning on the snow.
Bullets hit the back of the car. The rear window shattered. But we kept moving.
Faster. Faster. Until the lights faded behind us.
Until we were alone in the darkness.
I looked at Anya. She was crying. But she was smiling.
"We made it," she whispered.