Page 16 of Sanctuary

He grunts and doubles over.

Stretching my arm down, I reach for my pistol. I almost, almost shoot him, but the same instinct that stopped me a few weeks ago stops me again now.

I can’t seem to kill him. And even a more minor bullet wound—in the leg or in the shoulder—can easily turn deadly without medical attention because infection is such a risk.

He’s being physical with me now for the first time, but even now he’s not attacking me. He’s simply trying to get the package since he thinks it’s one more thing I stole from him.

So I don’t shoot. I holster the pistol and, before he’s managed to straighten up, I start back down the trail through the dark woods.

I run.

I assume my below-the-belt blow will only slow him down for a minute. Then he’ll be after me again. I doubt he’ll give up so easily. This matters to him as much as it matters to me.

If we end up in another physical fight, I’m not likely to come out ahead a second time. Because the reality is that he’s bigger and stronger than me. It was luck as much as anything else that allowed me to get away just now.

So I need to run.

And hope to get away from him in the dark woods.

After several minutes, I’m forced to pace myself, shifting from a dead sprint to a fast jog. If I keep going at that rate, I’ll collapse too soon, so I need to find as fast a pace as I can that will allow me to go a long distance.

I haven’t heard Aidan behind me yet, but I’m certain he’ll be there. He must have left his cart somewhere else because it wasn’t in sight back where I was camping.

I’m not sure how long I run, but it’s got to be at least an hour. The sun is starting to rise, visible through the thinning trees. The deep darkness is transforming to dim light and long shadows. My lungs burn and my legs ache, but I’ve still got enough breath to continue.

Surely eventually I’ll get to a place where I can turn off the trail or otherwise disguise my route from Aidan.

I come out of the woods at last into a broad expanse of hilly grassland. I see some flickering orange light behind one of the hills. Campfires. Someone must have camped there overnight. It’s still early morning, but they might already be awake.

I can’t risk heading in that direction since I don’t know who it is.

They’re as likely to be a threat to me as a help.

To avoid their camp, I swerve off the trail I’ve been following. Running through the high grass isn’t easy, but it’s safer than encountering dangerous strangers.

Even letting Aidan catch me is safer than that.

After a few more minutes, I’m aware of the sound of pounding footsteps behind me.

Someone running.

Damn it. He’s catching up to me.

I’m in good shape from all the walking I do, but I’m an average-sized woman, and he’s a tall man.

His legs are longer, and there’s no overcoming that physical advantage.

He’s going to catch me.

Aidan must really be pouring on the speed because soon I hear him breathing—long, raspy gasps like mine. He’s almost reached me. I use the last ounce of my strength to speed up.

It doesn’t work. He must stretch out his arm to grab my backpack because I feel a tug of pressure on my shoulder straps. I wrench myself around with a loud, outraged exclamation, yanking the pack away from his grip.

My sudden move throws us both off balance. I roll to the ground, and he can’t stop his momentum. He falls on top of me.

I push him away and try to scramble back to my feet, but he grabs for my braids, managing to get both of them in his grip. I kick back at him, trying to aim for his groin again but only managing to get his thigh.

He grunts. His expression is focused rather than angry, like the most important thing in the world to him right now is getting that package away from me.

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