Page 83 of Tactical Lies

He ran through the woods, desperate for a sign of her, but there were none to track thanks to the rain. It felt like hours had passed since he woke to find the generator had gone out. In reality, it couldn’t be more than an hour. Exhaustion hammered at him, though, the physical toll of running through the storm, along with the gunshot wound he’d gotten was getting to him.

Not that he had any plans of stopping.

The only thing that would stop him was finding his girl.

When he had her safe in his arms, they could sleep for a month.

Since he had no idea which direction Becca would most likely have gone, he was searching blind. She didn't know these woods like he did, she could be running closer to the road or away from it. She could be running toward the closest neighbor or further out into the woods. Or she could be running in circles.

Which was exactly what Connor felt like he was doing. He was trying to cover as much ground as he could in the shortest amount of time possible, so he was zig-zagging about, trying to find any sign that Becca had come this way.

He’d worked his way up a small mountain that he knew had a sheer cliff on the other side, a drop of around fifteen feet to the forest floor below and was about to turn around and work his way back down the mountain and head to the other side of the river when a crack of lightning lit up the night.

For one second, he saw her.

Becca. Standing on the edge of the cliff, looking away from him.

Unfortunately, he wasn't the only one to spot her right when she was at her most vulnerable.

One second, she was there, the next a body slammed into her, and she disappeared from view.

August 23rd

2:02 A.M.

How long had she been running?

More importantly, how long could she keep going?

Becca trembled from cold and exhaustion. Her leg muscles were cramping, water had dribbled down her leg and gotten into the top of her prosthetic, making it slippery against her stump, and she kept losing her balance and hitting the ground hard.

Kept getting back up, though.

Now that she had this chance of freedom she wasn't going to waste it.

Only it felt like shewaswasting it.

The storm had her all turned around, and by the time she’d run in a panic from the cabin and then calmed down a little, she was completely and utterly lost. She couldn’t figure out which way led to the long, winding driveway that would get her to the road, and she couldn’t remember which direction the closest neighbor was. She couldn’t remember anything.

Which led to her just running wildly and hoping for the best.

Not a particularly smart plan, but what else did she have?

Even if she could find her way back to the cabin, it wasn't safe there. She was pretty sure she’d killed both the men, but she hadn't checked so there was a chance one of them was alive and waiting for her there. Connor had to be alive—she couldn’t let herself think he was dead—and out here somewhere in the storm, but she had no idea how to find him.

All she could do was run and pray.

Those prayers came in pretty handy when she stumbled yet again, going down to her knees.

Only this time one of her hands landed on nothing but empty air.

Like it was happening in slow motion, Becca felt her body tip forward. Gravity and her body’s momentum worked against her, and she was positive this was how she was going to die.

Her life flashed before her eyes.

Meaningful moments.

Shared with family and friends.

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