Page 27 of Off the Grid
“Well…” Leo glanced up the hill toward the road they’d just catapulted off, a little surprised the Aston Martin hadn’t already made it back and started shooting. Then he turned his face to the opposite side, staring into dense trees beyond. “The guys who were following us will probably be back any minute, and we want to be as far away as possible before that happens. I say we take our chances with the woods and get some distance between us and them.”
McKenzie looked up toward the road, shuddered, then turned back to him. “Sounds like a plan to me.”
Leo shrugged his bag over his shoulder and started walking. McKenzie kept pace at his side. He chanced one more glance back to make sure they weren’t being followed, unable to quite shake the eerie tickle scratching down his spine.
“I’ll call for help as soon as I can,” he said—for her benefit or to reassure himself, he wasn’t sure. “We have to find another road or a house eventually, right? I mean, we’re only an hour or two outside of New York City—how big can this forest be?”
- 10 -
McKenzie
Let’s take a stroll through the forest, he said.
It can’t be that big, he said.
We’ll find help soon, he said.
Well, these damn woods could kiss her ass. They’d been walking for hours, and nothing. Not the hum of a car. Not the smell of a diner. Not the sight of another human being. Nothing. And McKenzie was exhausted.
She considered herself decently healthy, aside from all the taste-testing of her desserts. She ate well. She exercised daily. She slept eight hours every single night. But nothing had prepared her for the exhaustion of mortal terror paired with sleep deprivation, followed by a near-death joyride and an endless hike in whatever godforsaken forest they’d ended up in. She was a city girl through and through. Give her a latte. Give her a taxi. Give her horns and car exhaust and crowds any day over this. Central Park was about as outdoorsy as she could handle.To think, people actually pay to go on vacations to do this stuff.
McKenzie shuddered. The only small favor was that she was miraculously well dressed for the occasion. Who knew that being a chef was such good preparation for a life on the run? The boat shoes she’d picked out for maximum comfort in the kitchen were holding up surprisingly well in the middle of the woods. The long pants she wore to keep her legs safe from boiling splatter now kept her calves safe from scratches and bites. Her white undershirt was a little see-through with sweat and her arms were already a little pink with sunburn, but on the whole she couldn’t complain—wardrobe-wise, at least.
Everything else was fair game.
“I’m dying.”
Leo didn’t pause his stride. He glanced briefly over his shoulder, arched a brow, and turned back around. “You look mighty lively for a corpse.”
“Obviously, you’ve never seenThe Walking Dead.”
The comment earned her a snort.
McKenzie’s lips twitched with a smile before she pressed on. “Can’t we take a break? Aren’t you tired?”
He shrugged and kept marching. “I’ve been through worse.”
McKenzie opened her mouth with a retort, but forced it closed before the biting response could pop out.He was a marine, you idiot. Of course he’s been through worse. He’s been through more than you can imagine.
With a sigh, McKenzie fought through the ache and carried on. Sarcasm was her natural fallback when she was uncomfortable or frustrated or defensive, but she owed him better. He was doing all of this to help her, to save her. The least she could do was quietly try to keep up.
Her silence, though, seemed to bug him more.
Leo glanced briefly over his shoulder. McKenzie kept her eyes focused on the forest floor, thick with sticks and leaves and roots, but she felt his gaze without looking. The touch of his eyes was as palpable as a caress, moving around her face, her frame, bringing a heat to her skin. He sighed and stopped walking.
“Let’s rest.”
“No, it’s okay,” McKenzie said, and kept going. “You’re right. It’s not so bad and we should probably take advantage of the daylight while it lasts.”
“We’re lost with limited provisions,” he countered, not loud, but his deep voice still penetrated. “We don’t want to push ourselves to the brink of injury.”
“How limited are we talking?” McKenzie asked, successfully keeping most of the bite from her tone. She’d thought about asking for water or a snack a dozen times, but managed to refrain. She assumed if it was available, he’d offer.
Leo nudged his head to the side, pointing out a fallen log a few feet away. They both walked over and sat down. As McKenzie’s sore muscles cheered with sweet relief, Leo shrugged his backpack off and plopped it between them.
“We’ve got…” He reached in, then rummaged around. “Twizzlers.” After tugging out a red packet, he handed it to McKenzie. “Chocolate-covered almonds.” He took out another bag, blue this time, and gave it to her. “A pack of gum. And, oh, half a bottle of blue Gatorade.”
She blinked a few times, staring at him. “Did you steal this backpack from a twelve-year-old on his way to the movies?”
