Chapter 5 - INTO THE WOODS
"Lock the doors!" I screamed, scrambling backward against the seat as Richard's face pressed against the rain-streaked glass. Emily slammed her palm against the lock button just as Richard grabbed the handle.
He yanked it, finding it secured, and his smile vanished. He raised the heavy metal distributor cap and brought it down violently against the passenger window. The glass spider-webbed.
"Emily, what do we do?" I cried, shielding my face from the impending shatter.
"Hold on!" Emily shifted the useless car into neutral, grabbed the steering wheel, and looked at me. "When I say go, you open your door, push past him, and run into the trees. Don't look back. Just run toward the old logging trail."
"I can't run! And I won't leave you!"
"You have to!" Emily yelled over the sound of another blow to the glass. "He wants you, not me. I'll hold him off. Just go!"
The window finally shattered, glass spraying across my lap. Richard reached through the broken pane, his hand grasping for my hair.
"Go!" Emily screamed. She grabbed her heavy metal flashlight and lunged across the console, bringing it down with all her strength on Richard's reaching arm.
He roared in pain, pulling his arm back. In that split second of distraction, I kicked my door open. The heavy metal caught Richard in the chest, knocking him backward into the mud.
I didn't hesitate. I hauled my heavy, aching body out of the car and plunged into the dark, churning forest. The rain was blinding, the wind howling so loudly it masked the sound of my own frantic breathing. Branches whipped against my face, scratching my cheeks, pulling at my clothes.
"Sarah!" Richard's voice echoed behind me, furious and terrifyingly close. "You're going to kill our baby running in the dark! Come back here!"
I ignored him, pushing through the dense underbrush. My lungs burned, and every step sent a shockwave of pain through my pelvis. The baby was tossing and turning inside me, distressed by my soaring heart rate. I kept one arm wrapped protectively around my stomach, using the other to push branches aside.
I heard a scuffle behind me, the sound of Emily shouting, a sickening thud, and then silence.
Tears mixed with the rain on my face. I had to keep moving. If I stopped, Emily's sacrifice would mean nothing.
I found the old logging trail—a wide, muddy path cutting through the trees. It was slightly easier to navigate, but it left me exposed. I forced myself to jog, a clumsy, agonizing shuffle. The rain was freezing, chilling me to the bone.
Then, the first contraction hit.
It wasn't like the cramps in the garden. This was a deep, tightening band of iron wrapping around my entire abdomen, squeezing with a pressure so intense it forced me to my knees in the mud. I grabbed onto the trunk of a pine tree, burying my face in the wet bark, trying to breathe through the agony.
Not now, I pleaded silently. Please, not out here in the dark.
The contraction peaked, held for a terrifying ten seconds, and slowly receded, leaving me gasping and shaking. I forced myself to stand. I had to get to the main highway. It was maybe a mile away.
I walked for what felt like hours, stumbling in the dark, guided only by the occasional flash of lightning. Three more contractions hit me along the way, each one closer together, each one stronger than the last. I was in labor. The stress, the trauma, the physical exertion—it had finally tipped my body over the edge.
As I rounded a bend in the trail, I saw it. The faint, sweeping glow of headlights cutting through the trees ahead. The main highway.
I pushed myself into a desperate sprint, bursting out of the tree line just as an old, beat-up pickup truck came rattling down the deserted, rain-slicked road. I stepped out onto the shoulder, waving my arms frantically, screaming for help.
The truck slammed on its brakes, hydroplaning slightly before coming to a halt a few yards away. An older man in a flannel shirt peered out the window, his eyes wide with shock as he took in my mud-soaked, pregnant, terrified appearance.
"Please," I sobbed, running to the passenger door. "Someone is trying to kill me. I'm in labor. Please help me."
"Get in," the man said immediately, throwing the door open.
May you like
I climbed inside, the warmth of the truck's heater washing over me. As the man hit the gas, speeding away down the highway, I looked back at the dark tree line. Richard wasn't there. But I knew this was far from over.
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