Running Target. Elizabeth Goddard

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СКАЧАТЬ Oh, God, help me!

      From her hiding spot, she saw the men transferring to the bigger boat and carrying over the man she’d shot but hadn’t killed. She watched to see what they would do next. Oh, God, please just let them leave.

      Two men hopped onto her boat, then back to the larger boat. They laughed and shouted. An explosion resounded. They’d blown a hole in the hull. Bree watched in horror as the boat she and Jayce had brought upriver sank. The evidence they’d even been here was now hidden away.

      Then across the river, she spotted Jayce climbing up onto the riverbank. Her heart surged with hope. You’re alive.

      He rolled over onto his back. Pressed his hand against his chest and to the side. It came away with—was that blood? He was injured, but the Kevlar had still likely saved his life, just like it had saved hers. Only she wasn’t bleeding from a bullet. They’d spot him if he didn’t move, and he wouldn’t live long if they saw him. They thought he was dead. She had to draw their attention away so they wouldn’t find him.

      Bree drew in a couple of breaths. You can do this.

      She rolled over and slowly crawled out of the mud. The boat was a mere twenty-five yards from her. Then she made a show of standing up, hoping they would spot her before she ran into the woods.

      A shout resounded on the river.

      It worked. She ran for cover as bullets pelted the trees. Her only chance was to put as much distance as she could between them, but more importantly, she would give Jayce a chance to survive. Since he was injured, his odds of survival were already slim, so Bree would draw the men away from him.

      She ran until she was out of breath, then she dropped to her knees and crawled over rambling mossy roots, well-hidden for the moment within a copse of Sitka spruce and western hemlock. She leaned against a thick trunk and wiped the mud from her face with her arm.

      Bree knew the rivers like she knew the lines on the palms of her hands. But the woods? The wilderness area? Not so much. Would her fellow deputies be able to find her? Would they even know the danger they faced in searching if Jayce wasn’t able to get to safety and warn them? Other deputies could get shot. Or worse. Die.

      Either way, if he didn’t stop the bleeding, Jayce might die before he could get to safety or someone found him.

      She tried her radio. The shot to her chest had somehow damaged it. Or was that the mud or water? Whatever the case, it wasn’t working. Her cell was on the sinking boat along with her Glock. It was more likely one of the men took it as their own. She had no weapon, no means of communication, a bleeding partner and no way out without putting more people in danger. As a deputy, she was a complete and utter failure.

      Worst of all, this situation was completely her fault. Jayce was injured and they were both in mortal danger because of her decision to press on. Jayce had wanted to turn back as the day waned. Why hadn’t she listened?

      Shouts drew her attention. Her heart rate jacked even higher.

      They had left the boats and were hunting her.

       Be safe, Jayce...

      The tree canopy was thick, making the woods dark and eerie. Fury and a lot of fear pushed her from the trunk and she ran deeper into the thick temperate rain forest. The scent of pine and mossy earth enveloped her. She pushed off tree trunks as she trekked, propelling herself onward, and climbed over boulders, making her way up the mountain.

      Daylight waned, and she’d soon run out of light.

      Bree paused to catch her breath. Had she lost the men yet? She couldn’t take a chance and had to keep pushing to make her way to safety.

      If she kept close to the river and followed it west, she would eventually find a town. But the way it twisted and turned through the mountains, that would take her twice as long as a straighter path toward Coldwater Bay.

      What did she know? She knew the river, that’s what. Not the woods.

      If only she could wait here for rescuers, but men were hunting her. That was out of the question.

      She stumbled on a root and fell. Pain ignited, spreading through her ankle.

      “Well, that’s just great,” she whispered. She wished she could shout, but she knew better than to give herself away.

      She pushed to stand on it. Once again, pain knifed through her. She collapsed. Really?

      Could things get any worse?

      Bree let the tears come. The fear and the tears.

      Either the men would locate and kill her, or she would die before she could make it out. No one would find her before it was too late. All that determination she thought she had crumbled as if detonated.

      If those men knew how to track, then it wouldn’t be long before they found her. But she didn’t have to make it easy for them.

      She pushed herself into a tree hollow. Brought her knees to her chest. Temporarily safe, she let the tears flow again and thought about her small family. Dad would be worried. He knew her job often kept her late, but she would never miss Stevie’s birthday party. At the very least, she would let him know what was going on if she was going to be late.

       Oh, God, please let me make it out of this alive, for Stevie’s sake! He can’t lose someone else. Please help Jayce make it back to his family.

      Bree’s sister-in-law, Stevie’s mom Narelle, had died in a car accident before he’d even turned a year old. That had nearly crushed them all, and she and Dad had rallied around the child and her brother, Steve.

      But she would always carry a measure of guilt for the way Steve had died three years ago. She had been on duty that day. Her first week in the marine division. She’d been the one to encourage Steve to enjoy a day on the lake. She was the first one to come upon the accident and find that her brother had drowned.

      She let that image run through her now, play-by-play. Quinn Strand—her brother’s best friend—holding Steve in his arms.

      She didn’t blame Quinn but she would always associate him with her brother’s death. So even if she still had some unresolved feelings for him, nothing could come of them now. It would all have to stay in the past, where it belonged.

      She’d dated the guy in high school—secretly, because Steve had always warned away all her boyfriends. She’d had a serious crush on him then. She’d hoped he had feelings for her, too, that they were working toward something, but then after graduation, Quinn had just disappeared. She’d heard he’d joined the service. Then he’d come back to Coldwater Bay one summer after he’d discharged. Things between them had picked up where they’d left off. He’d been gone far too long, and she’d missed him. He was someone she thought she could fall for.

      He’d been driving the boat when the tragedy occurred. Though it had been considered an accident and he hadn’t been held negligent, every time she thought of Quinn it reminded her of Steve’s death.

      Afterward, he left again.

      Even if she could forget that he was part of the accident that killed Steve, he was the guy who left her twice without so much as a goodbye. Without so СКАЧАТЬ