Chapter 11 - The Escape into the Pines
Sparks rained down like fireflies as the blown fuse box hissed and sputtered in the hallway. Arthur grabbed Clara by the hand, pulling her through the broken back window while shards of glass crunched beneath his boots.
"Stay low! Run toward the treeline!" Arthur shouted over the sound of shouting guards and the heavy thud of tactical boots behind them.
Clara sprinted with all her might, the cold night air burning her lungs as they plunged into the dense, shadowy pine forest bordering the property. Behind them, the faint amber glow of flashlights cut through the thick brush, sweeping back and forth like searchlights.
"Over here! I found their tracks!" a voice echoed through the trees.
Arthur pulled Clara behind the thick trunk of an ancient oak tree, holding his breath as the beam of a tactical flashlight swept mere inches past their faces. The guards' footsteps continued moving deeper into the woods, heading away from the highway.
"Dad, my side hurts," Clara whispered, pressing her hand against her ribs as she struggled to catch her breath.
"We're almost to the old logging road, sweetie. Just a little further," Arthur encouraged, keeping his arm firmly around her trembling shoulders.
They scrambled down a steep embankment, sliding through damp pine needles until their boots hit the hard-packed gravel of an abandoned logging road. Parked half a mile down the road was an old rusted pickup truck with its keys left conveniently hidden in the visor—a contingency plan Dr. Holloway had whispered to Arthur before they fled.
Arthur unlocked the truck door, hoisted Clara into the passenger seat, and slid behind the steering wheel. He hot-wired the ignition with a practiced twist of exposed wires beneath the steering column, and the engine roared to life with a thick cloud of exhaust smoke.
As Arthur threw the truck into gear and sped down the dark, winding road toward the highway, his cell phone—which had suddenly picked up a faint cellular signal—flashed violently on the dashboard.
An incoming video call popped up on the screen. The caller ID read: PRINCIPAL VANCE.
May you like
Arthur stared at the screen, his thumb hovering over the accept button, his jaw clenched tight as the phone continued to ring relentlessly in the dark cabin.
---
