Chapter 7 - Breach in the Pines
Sheriff Thomas’s hat had blown off in the wind, his graying hair whipping wildly around his face as he clung to the metal handlebar of the ambulance door, his service weapon drawn and pointed directly at my chest.
"Pull the vehicle over, Vance!" Thomas roared over the deafening engine noise and the tearing sound of brush scraping against the sides of the rig. "End of the line! You’re driving into private property, and you’re resisting federal authority!"
"Like hell we are!" Vance shouted back, flicking the steering wheel hard to the right, attempting to sideshoot the sheriff off the bumper by clipping a thick pine tree trunk.
The maneuver worked better—and worse—than we could have anticipated. The passenger side of the ambulance scraped violently against the rough bark of an ancient oak, showering sparks and metal shavings into the air. The impact threw Sheriff Thomas backward off the bumper with a furious shout, sending him tumbling into a dense patch of thorny brambles beside the dirt track.
But the heavy collision also sheared our rear axle. A loud, metallic snap echoed from underneath, followed by a violent grinding vibration that shook the entire frame of the vehicle.
"We've lost the rear transmission!" Marcus yelled from the front, his voice cracking with panic. "Vance, we're spinning out!"
The ambulance fishtailed wildly across the muddy logging trail, pirouetting twice before slamming nose-first into a thick earthen embankment hidden beneath a carpet of dead leaves. The engine died instantly, plunging the cabin into a sudden, suffocating silence broken only by the hissing of steam escaping from the radiator.
I scrambled to my feet, checking Julian. He was conscious, his breathing heavy, but the drug was finally leaving his system. He looked around the wrecked interior with eyes wide with horror and realization.
"The old hunter’s lodge," Julian breathed, staring out the cracked front windshield toward a clearing up ahead through the trees. "We’re less than a mile from the family estate’s north boundary. Clara, we have to run. If Uncle Arthur gets to us here, we'll never make it out of this county alive."
"I'm not running anymore," I said coldly, reaching down to pick up the heavy steel oxygen tank I had used earlier. I checked the valve; it was still pressurized and locked. "They wanted a family tradition? I'm going to give them a finale they'll never forget."
Before Julian could stop me, I kicked open the jammed side door of the ambulance, stepping out into the damp, misty morning air of the forest. The black SUV was parked fifty yards back, its doors swinging open as Arthur stepped out into the clearing, flanked by two towering men in identical dark coats whom I had never seen before.
Arthur adjusted his cuffs, his face an mask of chilling composure as he walked slowly toward us through the fog, his footsteps crunching softly on the frozen pine needles.
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"End of the road, children," Arthur called out, his voice echoing eerily through the quiet woods. "You can’t outrun a legacy that owns the dirt beneath your boots."
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