I must make a noise, or he must smell me, because I hear him grunt and then turn to see him try to stand, only to give up and sprawl out once more. My heart pounds as I run from tree to tree, wanting to keep something solid between him and me as I make my way away from him slowly.
“Fucking finally,” I hear a man say over the pounding of blood through my ears, and my heart soars in relief, thinking that I’ve been found. But then the next statements make my heart stop and my stomach sink. “I’ve never had to chase an elk this far or this long.”
“Well, we found him. Now we need to finish him off, cut him up, and get the hell out of here before someone comes across us,” another man replies as the sound of branches breaking getting closer makes me dizzy.
“No one’s out here. We don’t have anything to worry about,” yet another voice grumbles as the rain begins to fall harder.
“Let’s get this done,” the third voice says, and in the next moment, my body jerks as a loud gunshot ricochets through the trees surrounding me.
Covering my mouth, I bite my palm to fight the sob that climbs up my throat while hot tears stream down my cheeks. When the three men start to talk about how they’re going to skin the elk and carry it and its rack out of the area after dark, I know I need to get away. I peek around the tree and find the three older men all dressed in camo unpacking a bag of knives and other supplies.
As I listen to them talk, it becomes obvious they don’t want to be caught doing what they’re doing, so I really don’t want them to find me out here. With them distracted, I begin to move from tree to tree, putting space between them and me while trying to be quiet—something that is almost impossible with the debris littering the now-slippery forest floor.
“Cybil!”
Hearing what sounds like Tanner shouting my name, I freeze and close my eyes. Minutes ago, I would have cried in relief hearing my name, but now? Now, I don’t know what to do or how to react. I don’t want to draw attention to myself, not with the guys and the elk still so close, but I also don’t want Tanner to stumble across them. When my name is shouted again, I peek around the tree to where the three men were, and my heart drops into my stomach when I see they’re gone, but the elk is still there.
I glance around, wondering where they could have gone, then remember they are dressed to blend in with the environment, which makes them better suited for hiding. Unlike me, in my bright-red plaid shirt that sticks out like a sore thumb. Knowing I can’t stand behind this tree forever, I listen for my name, then run in that direction as fast as I can go, yelling Tanner’s name at the top of my lungs. I know it’s stupid to make myself a moving target, but I want him to stop coming my way. When I finally spot him and our eyes lock, relief fills his expression before concern makes his brows dart together.
“Cybil.”
“Oh God.” I plow into him, my voice hoarse and my throat dry, making it almost impossible to speak. “W-we need to . . . to run.”
“What’s going on?” He wraps his arms around me, and I try to wiggle free from his tight embrace when all I want to do is curl into his hold and pretend the last few hours never happened.
“Run. Please,” I pant, then scream when a gunshot sounds and a tree a few feet away from us splinters as it’s hit with a blast.
“Fuck.” He shoves me to the ground and comes down on top of me, causing all the air in my lungs to leave in a rush. “What the fuck?” His arms curl around the top of my head before he somehow manages to move us both behind the trunk of a tree. “Talk to me,” he orders, crouching down in front of me, sounding firm but calm as his gaze locks with mine.
“Th-three g-guys killed an elk. I . . . I don’t think they were supposed to. Th-they didn’t know I was there until I ran to you.”
“All right, baby,” he says soothingly as he smooths my hair away from my face. “I need you to listen to me.” Nodding, because I’m attempting to focus on breathing and slowing my racing heart, I see his face soften. “We’re going to keep low to the ground and move from tree to tree until we reach the edge of the river, then stick to the tree line until we come across the four-wheeler. Can you do that?”
“Yes,” I say, and he leans in, quickly touching his lips to mine before he grabs my hand and scans the area around us. “You won’t be able to see them. They’re all wearing camo.”
“Got it.” He gives my fingers a squeeze. “On the count of three, run for that tree.” He points at one about ten feet away, then counts down with his fingers, and we both take off. When we make it without being shot at, he points at another tree, then another, and before I know it, the glorious sound of rushing water greets my ears, causing relief to fill me. “Don’t let your guard down, sunshine,” he orders without sparing me a glance, then points to another tree and another until the river comes into view. As we start to move to the right instead of forward, I keep an eye out for the four-wheeler, praying it’s not much farther. “There it is.”