Page 75 of Fierce Hope

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“People see what they want to see,” Sarah replied. “Especially Christians. They’re so desperate to believe the best in everyone. Sad, but you know, it works for me.”

Jade deliberately focused her eyes forward, gripping the steering wheel tighter. She forced herself not to glance back again, refusing to risk alerting Sarah to any suspicious activity in the back seat.

Several tense minutes passed as they continued winding deeper into the mountains. Then, from the back seat, DJ suddenly sat up straighter.

“I’m feeling better now,” he announced, his voice steady despite the circumstances.

Jade’s heart leapt. Something in his tone—a subtle confidence that hadn’t been there before—sent a wave of hope through her. Whatever he’d been trying to do in the back seat, that simple statement told her he’d succeeded. It took every ounce of her self-control not to react, to maintain her expression of fearful attention.

“Take that turnoff up ahead,” Sarah instructed abruptly, pointing toward a barely-visible forest service road.

Jade obeyed, fighting to maintain control as the car bounced roughly over the uneven surface. The snow was deeper here, untouched by plows or other vehicles. Trees loomed closer on either side, their branches weighted with snow, silent sentinels to the grim scene unfolding.

Her emotional resolve sharpened fiercely. Even if this cost her life, she wouldn’t let Sarah harm DJ.

“That way.” Sarah said, pointing ahead. “Pull up to that building.”

In the headlights, Jade could make out the dark silhouette of what appeared to be an abandoned lumber mill. The dilapidated structure stood like a skeletal reminder of more prosperous times, windows broken, roof partially collapsed under the weight of snow. Sarah had chosen well—this was a place that hadn’t seen human activity in years.

One more decent snowstorm and the tracks from her car would be erased. Unless help came soon, no one would find them.

DJ’s signal had given her hope—but hope was a fragile thing in the face of Sarah’s gun and this desolate location. She hadfaith in DJ’s cleverness, but would it be enough? Would anyone find them in time?

The silence was thick, broken only by the low rumble of the car’s engine. For now, she could only pray.

Dear Lord, please … let Deke find us before it’s too late.

40

“Park there.”Sarah directed Jade to a clearing directly in front of the main building.

The headlights of Jade’s sedan carved a weak path through the darkness as she parked outside the looming shadow of the abandoned lumber mill. Her hands trembled slightly on the steering wheel before she cut the engine, plunging them into relative darkness. Only the faint moonlight filtering through snow clouds illuminated the decaying structure ahead.

As the headlights dimmed, Jade noticed deeper tire tracks leading into the mill’s main entrance, partially filled with fresh snow. Someone else was here—and they’d been here for a while. Her heart sank further.

“Out. Both of you,” Sarah commanded. “Leave your stuff. We’ll be heading out soon.”

The strongest signal yet that Jade and DJ wouldn’t be going anywhere alive.

Jade stepped out first, the icy air biting sharply at her cheeks after the relative warmth of the car. The cold amplified every sound—the crunch of her boots in the snow, DJ’s tense breathing beside her, the soft click as Sarah adjusted her grip onthe pistol. Beyond these immediate noises loomed an oppressive silence.

The musty, stale scent of abandoned lumber and rusting metal hung in the air, mingling with the clean bite of snow. The mill had clearly been abandoned for years—windows broken, walls partially collapsed in places, snow drifting through gaps in the roof.

Sarah gestured with her weapon. “Inside.”

Jade placed a protective hand on DJ’s shoulder as they walked. His body was taut with tension beneath her fingers, but he moved steadily beside her. The small action of reassurance was as much for herself as for him.

“It’s going to be okay,” she whispered, though the words felt hollow even as she spoke them.

“Quiet,” Sarah snapped, pressing the gun barrel against Jade’s spine.

They entered through a set of massive, partially open doors, their hinges long rusted. Inside, the cavernous space echoed with their footsteps. What little moonlight filtered through broken windows and holes in the roof created eerie patterns across the debris-strewn floor. Weak light from a scattering of battery-powered lanterns illuminated the space. Old machinery loomed like sleeping monsters in the shadows.

And there, tucked neatly into a dark corner, was a black SUV, its sleek lines incongruous against the decaying surroundings.

A figure jumped up from behind the vehicle, gun drawn.

Jade lunged in front of DJ.