SHELBY (Second Chance Novels Book 4) (20 page)

I breathe in quiet, slow breaths to stay silent, and also to stave off my own panic. If something happens to Shelby…
 

I push the poison of that thought to the back of my mind with the rest, and keep solidly in the scope of my hearing.
 

Score. The cereal I placed under the kitchen rug crunches loudly under his feet. He will certainly be more cautious now, which works to my advantage. I know his location and he'll be slower to move now that he must consider every possible alarm within the cabin.
 

In total stealth, knowing he may hear or see me anyway, I steal from my hiding spot and shadow my way along the wall. My Glock remains strongly in my double grip. When I'm around the corner from his last location, I use my power of focus to my eyes, willing them to take in any minute form of light which may be filtering in through the earliest point of dawn.
 

Though I will the sunrise to break, no light comes to me. The lingering clouds from yesterday's storm still block any starlight. My attacker's timing proves again his professional status.
 

With my sense of hearing my only source of information, I focus again on listening. The ninja isn't moving, or hasn't tripped any more of my alarms. That works to my advantage, however, because at least I know a single possible location, as well as every place he is
not.
I listen carefully.

Score.
 

The squeaky board ten feet from my location creaks loudly under his feet. With lightning reflexes, I whip around the corner and fire a shot at my attacker. A sharp breath from his location proves I tagged him, but I have no idea where or how badly he's been hurt. If he's still moving, he knows exactly where I am, too.
 

I sprint to Shelby, thanking the heavens that she kept quiet. I jerk the door open and hear her panicked gasp in surprise, as well as the total panic from gunfire and the lingering stench of burnt powder.
 

"Come on!" I shout. While I help Shelby up with one hand, I fire two rounds in the direction of the other shooter for good measure. I help her out the window and pull her to the woods. A silent escape is impossible through the crunching leaves and twigs, but I know better than to move to the driveway path. The car has been disabled, I'm certain, so I don't bother with the garage, either.
 

The darkness forces us to move more slowly than I'd like, but the thick forest compensates with natural walls of defense. I stop our progress every few feet to listen, but I hear nothing. Dawn finally begins to add tiny shadows to our journey, and I'm thankful to be able to see enough to increase our pace.
 

Shelby, who is likely in total shock, follows behind me. I keep her wrist in my grip to remind her of my ability to take her away from all her stressors. My strategy must work to some extent, because her feet keep moving along with mine.
 

On my next pause, I hear the crunch of leaves moving toward us at a faster pace than we can travel. The invention of night-vision technology irritates me right now.
 

I also want to curse the trees for protecting him, too. My only strategy is to keep the widest trees between us. If we stop in front of a tree, he'll know our exact location. If we keep moving, he has the chance for target-practice. My renewed inability to keep Shelby safe eats away at my gut while I keep us moving forward under the cover of trees and the occasional cover-fire shots toward our attacker.

I conserve bullets, however, knowing we have miles of forest ahead of us and only one gun. She remains in shock, but keeps moving forward. She's still going and I'm so damn in love with her ability to find her strength.

By the time the sun brightens our path, I'm thankful for the light. The night-vision of our pursuer is no longer viable, which puts us at an even advantage. Our cat-and-mouse game continues for nearly an hour when I hear him shout. I don't recognize his voice.

"I'm getting bored," he speaks plainly but loudly. "You have no chance. You'll end up exhausted and dead. Save yourself the exhaustion. And by the way, you're a terrible shot. You only grazed me."

I won't let him in my head, nor will I answer and allow him any more knowledge of my exact location than he already has. Knowing where he is doesn't help much, but I like knowing approximately how far behind us. Our pace has kept him at bay, but he's closer than I'd like.
 

I glance at Shelby, and I realize he's gotten in
her
head. I want to encourage her to keep going, but she seems to accept his ridiculous point. Her feet quit moving.
 

"Come on, Shel," I speak in a gentle whisper, pulling her wrist.

Her expression is absent until she looks me in the eye. She lost her determination. She's tired of running, and she's tired of hiding. Our perfect two days have been erased in the last few hours. We don't have time for this, and I refuse to let her backslide.

"You will keep walking," I grit out in a gravely whisper. "The pity party doesn't come back, and it ends right goddamn now, got it?"

My words offer a tiny spark. She may believe the attacker, but I remind her of her hidden determination, too. She nods enough to encourage me to tug at her wrist again. She follows, but we hear the voice begin again. I try to drown his words by whispering, "Don't listen," but his shouts are louder than I can safely speak.
 

"I'm getting closer," he explains. "I have more ammunition, I move faster, and I have all day. Even if I don't kill you right away, you'll miss the trial while I chase you in circles."

We keep walking with as much stealth as possible, he keeps talking in an attempt to intimidate.

"I brought food to keep up my energy. How about you two? Got anything to eat? Any water? I'm happy to share…"

I don't give two shakes of a rat's ass about his words. I know the path to the highway. He can't chase us in circles. I whisper more encouragement.

"Come on, Shelby. Trust me more than him."

She clenches her jaw and nods, then allows me to guide her.
 

We walk slowly, pace by pace, watching for the largest trees to shield us from our attacker until we come across a small clearing. Going around requires back tracking, so I instruct Shelby to sprint while I lay out cover fire.
 

She tries to refuse, so I plant one hard kiss quickly on her lips and stare straight into her. "You can do this."

Again she finds her strength and runs while I turn to fire. The plan works perfectly. Shelby is behind a tree at the other side, and I'm left to sprint. As I run, I fire one shot backward and I hear three fire in return. He's close. One bullet grazes my arm and I think randomly that Shelby and I can have matching scars.

"Ha!" our assailant laughs. "It's a start. Do you really think you can keep running? Face your death like a man and I'll kill her quickly."

I no longer have a need to conceal our location, as he can pinpoint us exactly.
 

"
Like a man?
I don't need instructions on how to be a man from a snake," I taunt, "especially one who's a pathetic shot. You should have had me clean."

Shelby's eyes are wide as I encourage her forward.

"Keep going," I mouth as the sound of our attacker's voice comes to us again. Her strength moves her feet. Good girl.

"Hey, Shelby," he calls out. "The trial got moved because you disappeared. Do you really want to hide for another month? I'll find you every time. Let's just get this over with."

Her eyes flash to mine and practically scream "a month?!" from the irises.

"Don't give up," I grit at her. "Don't you dare."

I drag her quickly by the wrist now, knowing that speed will be our strongest ally at this point. I continue to drag Shelby along, but the man's taunts are messing with her mind. Her feet don't want to move quickly anymore, not when his voice continues to undercut every ounce of confidence she's reached for.

"Did you hear that, Shelby? Your little hack ruined your life. From what I understand, though, it wasn't much of a life, anyway."

Tears drag heavy trails down her beautiful cheeks as I force her to keep moving. She begins to shake her head in frustration and fear as I push her behind a very large oak, and pin her by the shoulders.

"Listen to
me
," I get in her face. "Ignore the psychopath. I'm your hawk, remember? You keep moving! No more goddamn teetering!"

Her eyes betray her shock at the strength of my words, but she nods with a hint of fire behind her eyes.

I'm pissed, though, because we've been still for few seconds we couldn't afford. This may end up a gun fight rather than an escape, and I can't let Shelby in the crossfire. I take her by the wrist again and we begin our fast-as-we-can trek through the ground-scrub and trees. She moves with renewed strength.

"Dade—" she says quickly, pointing to the road ahead of us.
 

"Run," I tell her quickly. "Get to the other side and hide." She doesn't hesitate, but the panic sits in my gut nonetheless. I don't like being separated from her at all. With determination to finish this, I take a cover position behind a large oak tree and listen carefully. Within two seconds I hear the crunch of leaves not far behind me, and I decide to draw him out.

"Do you think you can kill me before I kill you?" I ask. "Seriously? Didn't you do your research?"

I can practically hear him grin. "Yes I did," he says with amusement. "And I'm not scared at all."

"Let me guess. Former military star gone bad. Could you be any more of a cliché?"

I picture the grin fading, and his voice proves my assumption.

"Makes no difference," he taunts, obviously moving closer. "I'm better. You might as well give up."

I check for Shelby and she's well-hidden across the road. I know he's moving in her direction and not mine, though, so I begin to track him. I force down the panic and rely on my training.

"Better?" I scoff. "You're a dumb piece of shit, aren't you. You've missed the most crucial element of this."
 

With no more words, I move with perfect stealth around his location, using a bed of moss-covered rocks and a fallen tree to muffle my movement. Adrenaline keeps my bare feet from feeling the pain of our chase.

"Yeah? What's that?"
 

I steal myself directly behind him and shoot him straight in the brainstem. Death drops him instantly to the ground as I mutter, "That this is personal."

I run to Shelby and crouch beside her as I quickly pull her into my arms. "It's over."

She shakes with relief and the first stages of an adrenaline crash, but I need her to keep moving. I pull her up and drag her through the brush again and encourage her to move in the opposite direction of my cabin. Without a word we move, and Shelby's shaky body keeps going.
 

"You're doing great," I praise with a smile I force. I know we're not out of the woods yet, neither figuratively nor literally.
 

We hear a car and Shelby's face lights up. Moving toward the road, she makes an attempt to wave down the car, but I pull her to the ground before she can draw attention.

"We don't know how many are after us. We keep going on foot 'til we find a parking lot and commandeer a car for ourselves."

Her eyes widen as she drops lower to the ground. The car moves along the road more slowly than necessary, proving my point. We're still being hunted.

The driver of the car, most likely a second hired hitman, continues slowly down the road. He passes straight by us. I thank God for small miracles, but he won't take long to double-back and continue his search.
 

Shelby's frustration and panic fight with her renewed strength as she looks down at her abraded feet.
 

"Hold on," I say quietly. "Give me your foot."

I rip a sleeve from my shirt and fashion a make-shift moccasin from the fabric, then repeat the process for the other.

"What about you?" she asks, looking me in the eye. I see her will to survive, and I see her concern for me. I can't help but lean in and kiss her for one sweet moment in the middle of all the stress.