Run (The Hunted) (12 page)

Which makes him uncomfortable. He’s no leader and tells himself he’d better speak up about it the next time they stop for a rest.

Reid heads off at an angle toward his best guess. His eastward path is leading him away from the fence and he needs to get back to it. He hates to recover old ground, but has little choice. All of his private hope rests on finding where the two men came through. He doesn’t allow himself anything else.

Reid does his best to head west, but about an hour or so into their stumbling jog he checks the moon. For the first time his sense of direction seems to have deserted him somewhat. He can tell he’s off course, heading more south, and swears at himself a little. Then shrugs. He can only imagine they are surrounded by fence. Not like it matters how they get to it as long as they do.

Reid checks on the kids behind him. He is surprised he is alone. Have they abandoned him again? He fights down a surge of fury as he spots Trey emerging through the trees. Carly stumbles along with him, hunched over almost in half. Leila struggles beside the girl, one hand on her elbow, the other on her back. When they join Reid, Leila’s pale eyes lift to his. Her anger sends him back a step.

“Thanks for waiting.” Leila looks away, returning her attention to the skinny girl next to her. Carly gasps for air, mewing whimpers filled with despair cutting Reid to the bone. He shoves remorse aside as Milo half-jogs, half-drags himself to a halt next to Trey.

“Where’s Drew?” Reid is troubled and more than a little guilty. He should be more careful. He didn’t even think to check if they were keeping up. The survivor in him is disgusted and wants to abandon them, as weak as they are. He shoves that aside, too. Like it or not, he chose to run with them and he won’t change his mind unless they give him a good reason.

“Here.” Drew drops out of the dark, collapsing at Reid’s feet, his glasses fogged from perspiration. The boy’s face is flushed and slick with sweat, obvious even in the dark.

Reid silently examines himself and is pleased to discover that aside from hunger and thirst, he is feeling okay. Strong even. The food he found is sustaining him. For now.

“We need a break.” Leila helps Carly sit down. Reid’s urgency tugs at him while the rest try to catch their breath.

“I’ll scout ahead.” He leaves them there before anyone can protest and moves on. He can’t bring himself to sit still, not after two days of running and with the possibility of freedom so close.

The trees thin ahead, so he slows his pace. The moon is high by then, the still cloudless sky full of sparkling stars. Reid feels a grin break over his face as he looks out across the small, glittering lake below. There is a brief but steep decline to reach it but he knows he can handle it without a problem.

His thirst is so strong he almost moves on without the others. With a groan of denial, he turns and goes to get them.

“Water,” he says when he reaches them, still sprawled on the ground. He doesn’t have to say anything else. They are up and moving immediately.

It’s not long before they stand on the lip of the cliff looking down. Drew makes a soft sound and shuffles his feet, sending a slide of small rocks down the decline.

“I can’t.” His fingers shove his glasses back on his face with such fierceness Reid is startled.

“We’ll help you,” Leila says.

But Drew shakes his head and backs away. “Heights,” he says. “I just can’t.”

Reid doesn’t think, only trusts his instincts. He bypasses the others, seizing Drew and throwing him over his shoulder. A brief shriek escapes the boy, quickly silenced, but the sound carries into the forest.

Reid slides down the steep slope and is on the bottom within seconds. He sets Drew down on his own two feet and looks up at the others.

“I don’t want to hear
can’t
,” he says.

The rest of the kids descend more slowly, but make it safely to the bottom. Reid leads them to the water, studying the surroundings carefully. Like the stream, he knows this could be a perfect trap opportunity for the hunters, but the call of the lake is too strong to resist.

Reid waits for the others to drink, instinctively watching over them. A fierce surge of protectiveness races through him even while he wars with his mind. He is faster than them, stronger. It would be easier to simply leave them here and go on alone. They are pathetic and weak. But they are human like him, kids like him and being with them helps remind him of his humanity.

When Milo steps back, Reid falls to his knees and plunges his face into the cold water. It is as icy as the stream but calm and, remembering his first experience, he takes his time.

He requires a great number of mouthfuls to slake his thirst, but when he is done, Reid takes another moment to rinse and fill the bottle, tucking it away into the side pocket of his stolen pants. He is about to rise when he hears a cry and a splash, and jerks around to look.

Someone is in the water, thrashing around. Reid runs to the spot and finds Milo gesturing at Drew.

“Swim back!” Milo makes unhelpful motions with his hands, like it does any good. Drew goes under before glugging his way back to the surface. His glasses and braces shine in the moonlight, but he remains silent in his distress.

“What happened?” Reid freezes with indecision.

“It’s deeper than it looks.” Leila is there next to him, panic in her face. “Drew, swim!”

“He fell in.” Milo is crying. “It’s my fault. I wanted to know how deep it was.”

Trey and Carly huddle together and refuse to look, faces buried in each other’s shoulders.

Drew goes down again. Reid knows he needs to let the boy drown. He can’t risk getting sick or hypothermic in a rescue attempt. The water is just too cold. But he is already shedding his sneakers and socks, handing the water bottle to Leila. He dives in before his logical thoughts can stop him.

The shock of the water temperature is almost enough to drive him under. Reid gasps at the cold, but forces himself to stroke forward, reaching Drew with little effort. The boy latches onto him instantly, his panic making him a horrible weight with tearing hands and thrashing feet. Reid fights to calm the boy, but knows sound travels over water and can’t risk talking him down.

It is a grim and silent battle, one that quickly wears Reid out. He has gone under so many times because of Drew’s fear, he knows one more will be the end of them both. Reid does the only thing he can do. He puts both hands on the boy’s shoulders and shoves him under the water, holding him there.

Drew battles as hard as he can but soon weakens, his panicked energy almost run out. Reid waits two more heartbeats before letting the boy rise to the surface. Drew does, choking out water, eyes huge behind glasses he’s managed to hang onto through it all.

“You have to stop fighting me.” Reid risks that whisper. “Drew, stop.”

Drew chokes on some more water. His teeth chatter together and Reid knows his own are close behind. His legs are numb from the cold, hands on fire in it. They don’t have much time left.

Drew nods at last, clinging but not struggling any longer. Reid turns, his weariness making him slow, and searches for the shore. He groans very softly as he realizes the edge is no longer reachable.

In the course of their struggle, they have drifted far from the others. Reid turns them around, paddling gently to avoid more sound and conserve his strength. All around them is only more water. Until he turns west. There is the opposite bank, still far but the closest of any. Reid draws a breath and strikes out.

The water is heavy on his limbs, Drew’s weight pulling him down. He feels the boy’s legs moving and knows he is trying to help but has to stop. It’s throwing Reid off kilter. “Don’t do that,” he whispers. Drew’s arms tighten around his neck.

“Sorry.”

Reid reaches out again, legs kicking in slow rhythm. He has always been a good swimmer, a strong athlete, but the cold is seeping his strength from his body and he knows they won’t make it. Like that matters. He still has to try.

Swimming becomes as automatic as running had, Reid’s mind drifting as he puts one arm in front of the other, over and over again. The shore is drawing nearer, but his vision blurs so he can’t tell how much closer. He can’t feel his body anymore, not even sure he is still swimming. Water slaps his face, goes in his mouth and he splutters and coughs on it. He can hear Drew breathing in his ear when he turns his head and the slosh of the waves he makes.

Reid is done. His arms won’t move any longer. His legs give out at the same time. He forgets why he was fighting so hard and lets himself slide under the water.

Something tugs at him, pulling him forward. Whispered voices say his name, his numb skin barely feeling it when his clothes are pulled free. His skin starts to return to life and he cries out, low and painful, the ache of warmth making him writhe in agony. When he finally registers contact, he almost pulls away from what holds him. It’s like he’s been plunged into fire. For a long time he simply whimpers and shivers, lying there, ready to die.

He is surprised when he opens his eyes at last and finds Leila looking down at him. She is holding him to her and they are draped with bits and pieces of clothing. He spots Milo and Drew in the same position while Carly and Trey huddle nearby, shivering in the night air, their jeans and sweaters the source of warmth that kept Reid alive.

“Drew,” he whispers.

“Fine,” Leila says. “You got the worst of it because you were swimming.”

He doesn’t have the strength to nod. “Didn’t think we’d make it.”

She hugs him. His tender skin protests, but he doesn’t tell her to stop.

“Me either,” she says. “That was amazing.”

Reid closes his eyes again. When he opens them, Drew is there. His glasses are missing and for the first time Reid sees his eyes. They are silvery in the moonlight.

“Thank you,” the boy says. “You saved my life.”

Reid thinks of a snappy comeback, but it’s not worth the effort. “You’re welcome.”

“Reid…” Drew looks away, puts his glasses back on. Looks back. “I was the one who wanted to leave you behind.”

Reid just nods. Drew hugs him, the impulsive move making Reid groan from the pressure of it.

“We need to go soon.” Carly’s voice carries. Reid struggles to sit up and manages. He is still cold, but his body is all present and accounted for and he is very grateful.

Reid is about to ask why she is so afraid when he hears it. A howl. Very close. It’s enough to get him up and pulling on his wet clothing. Leila hands him his socks and sneakers, fortunately dry. He isn’t sure how far he can run in his condition, but knows he doesn’t have a choice.

He has just finished tying his shoelaces when Carly’s scream jerks him upright. He looks where she points and freezes, cold again, this time from fear.

Two hunters hover on the other shore of the lake. They hold still for only a moment, the girl’s scream carrying across the water to them, before beginning a lazy lope around the bank.

Reid grabs Carly and drags her along, forcing his exhausted body to move, pulling the terrified girl with him, following the others as they run into the woods.

Up ahead, another hunter howls.

***

Chapter Sixteen

Reid changes course as soon as he hears the howl, whistling to the others to follow. They listen, at least that is something. He begrudges the need for sound, knowing it will help the hunters locate them, but it’s too hard in the dark to simply use gestures. Despite his weariness, Reid runs on, grateful for once for his fear because it gives him access to energy he never knew he had.

To his frustration, his familiar tactic does him no good this time. It doesn’t seem to matter which way he leads the kids, how much he alters direction. The howling behind him is always answered from directly ahead. From the volume, the hunter is closing in.

Reid remembers something that troubled him, something he thought of before he met the two poachers. About being herded. He has a flashback of Monica spinning and doubling back on her own trail before heading off again. He stumbles to a halt and turns around, almost running into Drew and Trey, retreating and heading back the way they came. No one says a word, but they all follow.

Reid runs on for another minute before he is forced to swerve to avoid a fallen tree. That’s when he loses his grip on Carly. He almost forgot she was there with him, clutching his hand. The sudden missing connection between them reminds him. She tumbles, rolling over and over, coming to a thudding halt against the grounded trunk. He turns to go after her without hesitation, but his fear brings him to a sharp stop.

A hunter emerges from the forest and fixes its attention on the weeping girl.

Time stands still. Reid’s mind stumbles over one idea after another in the long, hanging second suspended between them. The three of them hover in it, Carly, the hunter, Reid. He feels the line draw in, pulling them tighter and tighter until he can’t breathe. The hunter’s claws gleam in the moonlight. Carly’s tears glitter on her cheeks, huge eyes swallowing Reid whole. He simply stands there, so torn by indecision he is unable to do anything.

When the moment breaks, Reid has no time left to act, nor the strength to get to Carly before the inevitable.

The hunter pounces in one fluid motion while Reid’s tortured mind still tries to figure it out. He hears Carly scream, lunges forward to try to save her, only to be yanked off balance and pulled away. His instincts take over again, but only barely. Reid runs, throat tight, eyes welling with moisture as the girl he barely knows dies in silence in the dark.

Reid immediately thinks of Lucy. She must be dead by now, too slow, too weak. There’s no way his fragile and needy sister could possibly survive anything like this. A sob rips from his chest, making it hard to breathe. Carly. Monica. Lucy. Around and around in a circle, joined by Mustache and Scar, and the two boys whose names he never knew. So much death and loss and only fear to keep him moving. There has to be more to life again, it can’t just go on like this, one endless run until the hunters finally get around to killing him.