Chapter 11
The roar of the utility vehicle's engine shattered the frozen silence of the woods as Marcus spun the throttle open, kicking up a shower of wet mud and snow. Arthur held Lily tightly against his chest with one arm while gripping the metal safety rail with the other, the dark leather duffel bag wedged securely between his feet.
"Hold on to me!" Arthur shouted over the deafening roar of the motor.
Behind them, a blinding flash of white light cut through the trees. A high-powered spotlight mounted on a heavy-duty pursuit vehicle swept across the clearing they had just vacated. The distinct, muffled thip-thip-thip of silenced gunfire chewed through the pine bark overhead, showering them with splintered wood and falling needles.
Marcus returned fire with two rapid shots toward the muzzle flashes in the distance before wrestling the steering wheel hard to the left, diving deep into a narrow, snow-choked ravine that was too tight for a four-wheel-drive truck to follow.
"They're closing the loop!" Marcus yelled back over his shoulder, his face grim in the pale moonlight. "They knew we'd switch to the trails!"
The utility vehicle bounced violently over exposed roots and hidden rocks, threatening to throw Lily and Arthur off with every harsh jolt. Lily buried her face in Arthur’s coat, whimpering quietly, but she didn't scream or panic. The discipline Elena had tried to break her with had inadvertently forged a quiet, terrifying resilience in the young girl.
They rocketed out of the ravine and onto a high ridge overlooking a frozen valley. Below them, thousands of pine trees stretched out toward the distant Canadian border, blanketed in pristine white snow.
"Cut the lights!" Arthur yelled as another spotlight swept the ridge fifty yards to their left.
Marcus killed the engine and the headlights simultaneously, letting the quad coast silently down the downward slope of the snowy trail, relying entirely on momentum and gravity to carry them away from the search party. The silence returned instantly, broken only by the crunch of heavy treads on packed snow and the heavy, ragged breathing of the three fugitives.
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They coasted for another half mile before Marcus finally steered the vehicle off the main trail into a dense cluster of weeping hemlocks, completely concealing them from aerial or ground reconnaissance.
"That bought us ten minutes," Marcus whispered, killing the ignition completely. "We abandon the quad here. The forestry cabin is just over that final ridge. We walk the rest of the way on foot."
