Page 99 of Rescuer
A bullet smashed into the tree beside Mia, narrowly missing her head.
“Let’s go!” Jackson pulled Mia free, and they took off, running away from the factory.
Would the police arrive in time?
Mia’s lungs ached. She wanted to grab her inhaler but couldn’t slow down long enough to reach for it. She’d have to stop soon though. Her chest tightened from the combination of running, anxiety, and the harsh pollen in the air.
Her mind whirled with what she’d seen. Were the kids in that building? She wanted to cry. They were running in the wrong direction. But she knew they couldn’t help Dylan or Zoe or any of the others if they were dead.
Seeing Blaine’s partner had also shocked her. Blaine had to be involved. And recalling Reggie’s words at the hospital, she now had questions about Blaine. Did he know someone wanted her dead? Her involvement in this case would harm his political bid, while her gruesome death would gain him sympathy points.
No. Even Blaine Turner couldn’t think that way. Could he?
Hadn’t he told her as much? Reggie had heard that someone believed she was causing trouble. Only it wasn’t trouble in the way he thought.
She didn’t want it to be true, but she knew it was.
God, please protect us. Help us find Dylan.
That was the only prayer she could think of.
Footsteps and harsh breathing pounded behind her as she and Jackson tore through the trees, their strides uneven but relentless, every muscle screaming for speed. The forest blurred around her, and branches clawed at her arms and whipped across her face.
Another gunshot cracked the air. This one passed so close it whistled through her hair, the rush of displaced air cold against her scalp. How it missed her, she didn’t know—only that the next one might not.
Prayer works.
“Hold on a second,” Jackson growled. He grabbed her elbow and yanked her behind a fallen log, both of them crouching as another shot splintered bark above their heads. He deliberately made sure she was behind him.
Her pulse thundered in her ears, drowning out almost everything except the steady crunch of boots in the leaves—closing in. Whoever was chasing them wasn’t giving up. How long until the police arrived?
Jackson’s gaze swept the terrain ahead. “We’ll cut left, toward the ravine,” he whispered. “If we can make it to the creek, we’ll lose them in the water.”
She froze. The last time they’d tried that, they’d ended up stuck down there with a sniper shooting at them.
“Not where we went before,” he said in her ear, as if he could hear her thoughts. “I know a better place. There’s a spot we can climb down without rappelling.”
She nodded, her breath catching in her throat. Every instinct screamed at her to run, but she waited for his signal.
Another twig snapped somewhere too close.
Jackson’s hand tightened on hers. “Now.”
They bolted. A man shouted. “Hey!”
She heard him crash after them. She had no idea how long they’d been running. She’d never imagined her former habit of jogging every morning would one day be the only thing keeping her alive. Sirens split the air, and the man chasing them cursed. He spun and ran off in the opposite direction, away from the incoming police cruisers and SUVs. She had no doubt that in another minute or two, they would have been severely wounded, or dead.
Was God protecting them? Thanks again, Lord.
The trees had thinned out. Jackson slowed, and Mia followed his lead. Patches of blue sky broke through the canopy. Mia sniffed, then wrinkled her nose. “I smell a skunk.”
Jackson lifted his face and inhaled. “Nah. Don’t think so. I think that’s sky pilot. Loads of those smelly flowers around here.”
She sniffed again. “Yeah, you’re right. It doesn’t have that oily feel to it.”
She hated the way real skunk miasma clung to her clothes and hair. She turned toward the south. “I hear more sirens.”
“Good.” A satisfied half smile crossed his face, and he dipped his chin in a single nod. “The more the better.”
