Page 6 of Savage Giant

My annoyance quickly faded, however, when I realized this was the chance I’d been waiting for. If I disappeared during the chaos, Salax might assume I’d been killed or captured. Perfect.

I crawled into the hallway, heading straight for the exit of the warehouse. Three of Salax’s goons rushed past me, weapons held high as they coughed on the smoke. The blasts and gunfire continued, and more bodies barreled by. A few of the soldiers—men who must belong to Mayor Hendrick—even stepped on me. I cried out as a heavy boot came down on my hand. Fuck that hurt.

I closed my eyes and waited until another large group charged by. More police officers and soldiers than I imagined Salax’s forces could handle.

Eventually, I made it to the open warehouse, where a large section of the wall was missing. Debris covered the floor. Occasionally, pieces of ceiling crashed down. I squinted at the black opening in the wall and looked around for signs of more soldiers. None of them had paid me any heed yet, but if some had remained outside to guard the building, I couldn’t risk getting detained.

Freedom. I had to leave. Now.

Even if Salax died, I needed to leave, had to get the hell out of Portland before the mayor decided to put the city in lockdown again. He’d done that a few times recently to combat soaring crime rates. During lockdowns, no one entered or departed the city without his direct approval, and there was also a strict curfew.

Just as I slipped outside, a booming voice shouted, “Hey! Girl!” and boots stomped in my direction.Shit shit shit. I glimpsed two police officers heading my way, guns pointed at my chest.

With a whimper, I started to put my hands up, only for another round of gunfire to ring out. The officers dived behind a nearby outbuilding for cover, while I took off running.

I ran and I ran, even as bullets whizzed past my head.

My solar truck. I needed to reach my solar truck. It was parked in the hangar beside the warehouse, where most of the guards kept their vehicles. The hangar also housed several sleek, bright blue hovercrafts. Too bad I didn’t know how to pilot them. But my truck was fully charged. I could drive a few hundred miles without stopping.

An idea struck me, and I quickened my pace. My grandfather’s old cabin. Deep in the Cascade Mountains. I could go there and lie low for a while. Hell, I could stay there forever if I wanted. So far away from civilization, I doubted Salax or anyone else might find me.

To my great shock, I met no one in the hangar. It would seem all of Salax’s men were in the warehouse battling it out with the mayor’s forces. I slid into the driver’s seat of my red solar truck—a high school graduation present from my father—and placed my palm in the center of the steering wheel. The wheel lit up, scanned my palm, and the motor purred to life. I slumped over the wheel for the briefest second, my whole body quaking in the aftermath of an adrenaline rush.

Need to run. Need to drive fast.

Heart pounding, I pulled out of the hangar and raced for the open gate. A few bullets struck my vehicle, and I ducked low and pressed the pedal to the metal.

I sped past the warehouses that lined the shore near the port. Lights from the docked boats and ships anchored in the harbor became a blur as I zoomed faster, passing supply trucks and crossing railroad tracks, weaving through the sparse traffic as though I were being chased.

Was I being chased?

A glance in the rearview mirror showed nothing.

But I maintained my rapid speed to the city limits and beyond. By some stroke of luck, no police officers or soldiers stopped me. I supposed they had better things to worry about than a speeding truck.

I left Portland behind, taking back roads as I headed southeast. Toward Grandpa’s cabin. I hadn’t visited the place in three years, but I thought I remembered the way. The navigation system in my truck was busted, and Salax had taken my phone away when I’d come to live with him, so I would have to rely on memory alone.

Please don’t let me get lost. Please let me make it.

The direness of my situation sank in. I was on the run. I had no money. No identification. No food or water. Just my truckand the clothes on my back—a slinky red dress of all things, and the painful, five-inch heels.

But if I drove through the night and didn’t run into any trouble, I would reach the cabin by morning, and my father had always kept the kitchen stocked with plenty of non-perishable foods. If I ate sparsely and supplemented my diet with fish from the nearby river, I could probably last a good six months in hiding.

The cabin also contained plenty of warm clothes, items I’d left behind during weekend trips as well as some of my father and grandfather’s clothes. Plus, there was an old-fashioned woodstove that kept the place sufficiently warm.

I wouldn’t freeze during the winter, nor would I starve.

For a moment, I chided myself for not trying to escape Salax sooner. I’d thought of the cabin a few times during the last year, imagined myself seeking refuge there with the mob boss none the wiser. But his threats to put me in a body bag had kept me frozen with fear, kept me compliant.

Even though it was cold outside, I rolled down the window and let the wind blow through my hair. The crisp air filled my lungs and for the first time in a long, long time, a genuine smile spread across my face.

I was finally free.

Chapter 3

GORRAN

I toldmyself I was simply curious as I watched the golden-haired human female traipse through the forest. But her scent enticed me in a way that left me breathless, and I couldn’t stop admiring the way the sunlight glinted off her beautiful hair.

---