Chapter 9 - THE HUNT BEGINS
Daddy tore the microphone from the radio and slammed it down, his face white with rage.
“He was listening. All along. He was monitoring the frequency.”
Mommy gripped my hand. “He knows we’re here. He knows about the words.”
“He knows everything.” Daddy stood, pacing the small chamber. “Which means he’s coming. And this time… he won’t negotiate. He won’t threaten. He’ll take Mia by force and force her to speak.”
“How long do we have?”
“Maybe hours. Maybe less.” Daddy looked around the chamber—at the supplies, the weapons, the narrow stairs. “We can’t stay here. He knows the location now.”
“Where do we go?”
Daddy looked at the back wall of the chamber. Another stone. Another mark. “There’s a second passage. Elias mentioned it once. Leads out through the mountain’s far side. Comes out miles from here. Near the highway.”
“Is it blocked?”
“I don’t know. He never finished it, or so he said.” Daddy walked to the rear wall and began feeling along the stones. “If it’s open… we have a chance.”
He found the latch minutes later. A heavy iron ring set flush into the rock. He pulled with all his strength. The stone ground slowly open, revealing a dark, narrow tunnel sloping steeply downward.
Daddy grabbed supplies—food, water, the letter, the locket, two handguns from the shelf. He stuffed everything into a pack. Then he took my hand.
“Mia, this tunnel is long and dark. Hold my hand tight. Do not let go. No matter what happens.”
“I won’t let go, Daddy.”
Mommy extinguished the lantern. We stepped into the tunnel, guided only by the thin beam of a flashlight Daddy had grabbed from the shelf. The stone was rough and cold. The air smelled of damp earth and ancient dust.
Behind us, from the direction of the hidden chamber, came a sound. Heavy footsteps. Voices.
“They’re here,” Mommy whispered.
“Faster.” Daddy pulled me forward.
We hurried down the slope, deeper into darkness. Behind us, the entrance to the chamber lit up. Voices echoed—Voss’s voice, clear and commanding.
“Spread out! They can’t have gone far!”
Daddy increased his pace. The tunnel twisted and turned, sloping downward steadily. Dust choked us. The floor was uneven, slippery with loose stone. I stumbled once. Daddy caught me without breaking stride.
A gunshot rang out behind us. A bullet sparked off the rock wall inches from Mommy’s head.
“Keep moving!” Daddy shouted.
More gunfire. Bullets thudded into the earth around us. Voss’s men were advancing, firing blindly into the dark.
The tunnel widened ahead. Daylight showed faintly at the far end. Fresh air.
“Almost there!” Daddy said.
We burst out from the mountain onto a narrow ledge overlooking a rushing river. Below, a rickety wooden bridge spanned the white water. Beyond it lay a dense pine forest and, far in the distance, the glint of a highway.
Daddy didn’t hesitate. He led us onto the bridge. Planks creaked and swayed beneath our feet. The river roared thirty feet below, churning and gray.
Halfway across, I looked back.
Voss stood at the tunnel mouth. He raised a rifle.
“David!” His voice carried clearly across the gorge. “Let the girl go! This ends now!”
Daddy didn’t stop. He pulled me forward. “Cross! Hurry!”
Voss fired. The bullet splintered the rail beside Mommy. She flinched but kept running.
We reached the other side. Daddy shoved us behind a large boulder. He turned, raised his own gun, and aimed at the bridge.
“Take Mia into the trees!” he shouted to Mommy. “Run! Don’t stop until you reach the highway!”
“Come with us!”
“I have to hold them off! Go!”
Mommy grabbed my hand. “Mia, run!”
We sprinted into the forest. Branches whipped at my face. Roots snagged my feet. Behind us, gunfire erupted—Daddy firing, Voss’s men returning fire.
I looked back once. Daddy stood beside the bridge, firing steadily, keeping Voss pinned down. He was alone. Against five or six men. And he wasn’t retreating.
“Mommy! Daddy is coming too, right?”
Mommy didn’t answer. She ran faster, pulling me along. Tears streamed down her face.
We crashed through underbrush, deeper into the woods. The sound of gunfire faded behind us. But then… a different sound.
Running footsteps. Fast. And coming up fast behind us.
Mommy stopped. She pulled me behind a thick pine and drew her gun. Waited.
Footsteps grew closer. Crunching leaves. Heavy breathing.
A man burst through the brush—one of Voss’s men. He saw Mommy and raised his weapon.
Mommy fired once. Twice. The man fell.
But more were coming. Voices calling our names.
Mommy grabbed my hand again. “Up! The ridge! Now!”
We scrambled up a steep embankment, clinging to roots and branches. At the top, we found a narrow game trail winding along the mountain’s spine. We ran along it, gasping, hearts hammering.
We ran for what felt like hours. The sun climbed high then began to sink. We were tired. Hungry. Thirsty. And they were still behind us—closer now. We could hear them shouting to one another, coordinating their search.
Mommy stopped at a rocky outcrop. Below, far down, I saw it. Highway traffic. Moving steadily.
Mommy looked back. Then at the road. Then at me.
“Mia,” she said, breathless. “I need you to do exactly as I say. There is a patrol station near that curve. Run to it. Tell them your name. Tell them to call Detective Nolan.”
“What about you?”
Mommy touched my face. Her hands were bleeding. Her eyes were red-rimmed.
“I have to go back. For your father.”
“No!” I grabbed her coat. “No! Don’t leave me!”
Mommy knelt, holding me tight. “I have to. He’s alone. If I don’t help him… he’ll die.” She pulled the letter from her coat and pressed it into my hand. “Guard this with your life. Guard the words. And do exactly as I say.”
“I don’t want to go without you!”
Mommy kissed me, hard and desperate. Then she stood up. She pointed down the slope.
“Run, Mia! Now!”
Before I could speak, she turned and ran back the way we had come. Toward the gunfire. Toward Daddy. Toward Voss.
I stood alone on the mountain. Letter in hand. Tears streaming down my face.
And from the woods behind me, a voice called out—soft, familiar, and sickeningly gentle.
“Mia… come out, little one. I don’t want to hurt you.”
Voss.
May you like
He was standing not twenty feet away. Smiling that familiar, terrifying smile. Holding out his hand.
“Come to me, Mia. We’re going on a little trip. Just you and me.”
