Chapter 11 - Into the Treeline
The scream shattered the tense standoff on the patio. Without thinking, Arthur lunged sideways, diving off the edge of the wooden deck and hitting the muddy grass hard. A gunshot cracked through the night air, the bullet clipping the wooden railing where he had been standing a second before.
"Stop right there!" Miller roared, his heavy footsteps splashing through the mud as he gave chase.
Arthur didn't look back. He scrambled up on all fours and bolted toward the dark wall of pine trees where the tiny footprints disappeared into the underbrush. The branches whipped against his face, tearing his skin and soaking his green button-down shirt within seconds. The forest was pitch black, lit only by the distant, flashing amber lights of the cruiser parked out front.
"Maya!" Arthur screamed into the wind, his voice cracking with desperation. "Maya, where are you?!"
A faint whimpering sound came from beneath a massive fallen log twenty yards ahead. Arthur pushed through a thicket of blackberry briars, ignoring the thorns tearing at his hands, and dropped to his knees beside the decaying wood.
Maya was huddled in a hollow beneath the root system, shivering violently in her bare feet. Her pink dress was gone, replaced by an oversized flannel shirt that smelled heavily of engine oil and damp earth.
"Daddy," she whispered, her teeth chattering so hard she could barely form the syllables. "He... he told me to wait for you by the water."
Arthur pulled her into his arms, crushing her against his chest as hot tears mixed with the cold rain on his cheeks. "I've got you. I've got you, baby. We’re getting out of here right now."
"You can't," a voice murmured from the darkness behind them.
Arthur whipped around, pulling Maya behind him. Standing at the edge of the clearing, framed by the pale moonlight breaking through the storm clouds, was Clara. Her beige sweater was torn and stained with dark mud, and in her right hand, she held a heavy iron-handled shovel.
"Clara?" Arthur breathed, his heart sinking into his stomach. "What are you doing here? You left hours ago."
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"I never left, Arthur," Clara said, her voice completely flat, devoid of any human emotion. "I went to fetch the shovel."
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