Page 26 of Nate Hayes

Axel grabbed Siena and motioned for Chloe to follow. We pushed into the woods, deeper, faster, our boots pounding over uneven terrain.

“They knew we were in there!” Siena shouted.

“Correction,” Axel said, panting beside her, “theyassumed. Which means they’re not just following—they’re hunting.”

I scanned the terrain as we ran. Rocky incline. Dense pines. The air smelled like smoke and moss, and every snapping twig behind us sounded like gunfire. I could feel them—whoevertheywere—closing in.

“Up there!” I pointed to a jagged cliffside trail about fifty yards ahead. “We take the high ground. Lose the tracks. Find shelter.”

We scrambled up, hands gripping rocks and roots, the kids slipping on loose gravel. Chloe nearly went over the edge, but Axel caught her just in time, hauling her up like she weighed nothing.

Once we reached the top, I dropped into a crouch and pulled out my field binoculars. Below, two shadows moved near the burning barn, sweeping the area with flashlights and rifles.

“They’re splitting up,” I murmured. “We’ve got maybe ten minutes.”

“We need to go dark,” Axel said. “Phones off. No signals. If they’re tracking heat or comms, we’re dead.”

I powered mine down and turned to the group.

“Listen up. From here on out, we go silent. No lights. No talking unless it’s an emergency. We’re heading west—through the hills. There’s an old hunting lodge about three miles out. If we can make it there, we regroup, rest, and figure out our next move.”

Siena was shaking again. “They’ll come after us.”

“Damn right they will,” I said. “But they won’t find us.”

We moved fast and quiet, ducking under branches, climbing over logs, sticking to the shadows. I kept one hand on my weapon the entire time, my ears trained on every rustle, every breath, every sound that didn’t belong.

Behind me, I heard Siena whisper something to Chloe.

“Did you hear what he said?They’re hunting us.”

I didn’t turn around. I didn’t have to.

Because I already knew.

And I was ready.

We kept going until the trees thinned out and the outline of the lodge came into view—just a silhouette against the dark sky, abandoned, but still standing. One door. One chimney. And hopefully no surprises inside.

Axel moved up and swept the perimeter while I checked for tracks. No signs of recent use. No vehicles. Nothing to suggest it had been touched in weeks, maybe months.

“Clear,” Axel said a few moments later, returning with a nod.

We ushered the kids inside. The floor creaked under our boots, and the air smelled like mold and dust, but it was shelter. There was a woodstove, a few old cots, and a beat-up couch missing a leg.

It would do.

I blocked the windows, started a fire in the stove to warm the place up, then checked our water rations.

Not enough.

I’d have to find a creek by morning.

The kids were curled up together now—Ethan with his back to the wall, Chloe resting on his shoulder. Siena sat apart from them, arms wrapped around her knees, watching the flames like they might turn into something else.

Axel looked at me. “You thinking what I’m thinking?”

“Yeah,” I said. “They’re not after ransom. They’re cleaning house.”

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