Page 69 of Survive the Night
Spitting out the last of the bile, she heard Xena whine. The dog pressed against the side of Sarah’s leg, as if trying to console her. She reached down and stroked Xena’s silky-smooth ears, and the contact calmed her slightly. She needed to get this done and get the animals out of there.
Without thinking about it, in case she talked herself out of it, Sarah circled to the back of the van. The doors were ajar, and her hand trembled as she pulled one of them open. It was empty. Her breath escaped in a relieved whoosh, but then it caught again on the next inhale. The back of the van had molded bench seats running lengthwise on both sides. A black grill separated the back from the front, and three sets of open handcuffs lay scattered on the floor. Sarah’s heart stopped.
Three sets. Three prisoners.
Aaron. Jeb. Logan.
With a cry, she scrambled backward, tripping over Xena and toppling into the snow. The FBI had been scheduled to pick them up that day. It all made horrible sense. Both victims in their suits, the explosion, even Jeb and Logan’s strange abduction attempt. They’d wanted to get arrested, she realized. It had all been part of Aaron’s plan. She should’ve known that he wouldn’t give up that easily. What Aaron wanted, Aaron took. He wasn’t about to let her—and his chance at taking over the Jovanovics—escape from him.
She scrambled to her feet, wanting to run. “Calm down,” she muttered, hearing the high note of hysteria in her voice. “Calm down. Be smart.”
Xena leaned against her again, her furry body shaking. It helped Sarah to focus.
“Get the animals. Then find Otto.”
She looked around. Mort was a few feet away, watching her uncertainly. Hortense was pawing in the snow by the shoulder and eating the weeds she uncovered. Reaching back, Sarah touched the lump in her pack.
“You okay?” she asked Bob, and was rewarded by an annoyed growl.
Bean stood, head high and his eyes wide, a safe distance from the van. Sarah realized that she’d dropped his lead rope when she’d seen the first body. Her stomach squeezed as she remembered how long it had taken for him to approach her and Otto in the pasture. With him spooked and in a strange place, it could take hours to catch him.
Sarah approached on wobbly legs. The snow had gotten much deeper, and the drifts reached almost to her knees. “Hey, Bean,” she said softly. “Please don’t make this difficult.”
He let her get within six feet before shying back. Tamping down the voice in her head that was screaming Run! Hurry! Sarah slowed her steps, shuffling through the snow in a creeping crawl that made her want to scream with impatience. She needed to get away from the scene of Aaron’s latest crime, away from the bodies of his victims and the possibility that he might come back for her. It was so tempting to lunge for Bean’s lead rope, to chase him, but she knew that wasn’t the faster way. Fast is slow, Chester always used to tell her. With animals, fast is slow, and slow is fast.
She crept toward Bean, talking nonsense in a low voice that was as soothing as she could manage. He watched her nervously, his eyes so wide with worry that the whites showed. Slowly, slowly, she got closer. Bean threw up his head with a nervous snort, and she froze. She was so close. If he ran, and she had to do this again… Sarah forced herself to breathe and wait and be still. Bit by bit, Bean’s head lowered. Taking a tiny step and then another, Sarah carefully reached out. The lead rope was just out of reach. She shuffled forward, inch by inch, and her gloved fingers brushed the cotton rope.
She grabbed it, the feel of the rope safely caught in her fist making her want to cry with relief. No time for that. Although she agreed with the strict voice in her head, she stepped closer and pressed her forehead against Bean’s neck. He stood still, turning his head so that he could blow warm air down the back of her coat. She took a moment to breathe.
Soon, panic began creeping in again, and she knew they had to move. She walked Bean into a slight ditch next to the road to get him low enough that she was able to scramble onto his back. It wasn’t pretty, but she managed to get on. Once she was up, Sarah looked at the pile of rubble, being very careful not to look at the van or the body next to it.
On one side of the rockslide, the ground dropped off abruptly. On the other side, the rock face rose abruptly, almost as flat and smooth as a wall. As much as Sarah hated to do it, she turned Bean around and they backtracked, following the ridge until the slope gentled. There was the start of a deer trail snaking its way to the top of the rocky mass, and Sarah urged Bean to follow it. As they climbed, Bean’s metal shoes slipping occasionally against the smooth granite surface, Sarah prayed that the trail didn’t disappear or turn into something unnavigable.
When they reached the top, she briefly celebrated before starting to sweat again. Bean’s muscles bunched underneath her as he slid and scrambled down the slope. With just a halter, Sarah wasn’t able to control his speed. If he found it easier to rush down the slick trail, then he did just that. They reached a terrifyingly steep portion of the trail, and Sarah looked around for another option. There was none. Either they followed the trail, or they turned around and returned to the van and the murdered FBI agents. Clinging to Bean’s mane, she sat back and closed her eyes.
“Okay, sweet boy. I’m trusting you. Let’s get to the bottom safely, okay?”
Bean stepped onto the slope.
Chapter 20
“Drop your weapon!” Otto snapped at the figure huddled behind the counter. Then he blinked as he recognized her. “Grace?”
“What the hell, Gracie?” Hugh whisper-yelled, having followed Otto around the counter. “Quit pointing your gun at her.”
Otto realized that the last bit had been for him, and he quickly lowered his weapon. “Sorry, Grace.” She gave him a small, shaky smile.
After Hugh helped her stand, Grace reached toward his forehead with a hand that visibly trembled. She paused before making contact. “Hugh. I’m so sorry. I didn’t know it was you. There were all those explosions, and then I heard someone creeping around, so I hid, since I figured it was either a looter or…well, someone up to no good. I never guessed it was you. I didn’t know you could go without talking for that long. Oh no. There’s a red mark already. I bet you’ll bruise.”
“Shh, Gracie.” He pulled her into a long hug. “I’m fine, and that was pretty badass of you. Nice hit. What was that? It wasn’t your fist, was it?”
“No.” Grace pointed to a crossbow lying on the floor by their feet.
“Did you…hit me with that?” Hugh sounded like he was about to laugh. “Why didn’t you shoot me with it?”
“I don’t know how to use it.” Starting to sound more annoyed than shaky, Grace pulled away slightly so she could glare at Hugh. “And I didn’t hit you with it. I threw it at you.”
