CLAY AND I stayed in the warehouse for a while longer. We spent the time discussing our plans for the immediate future. He said he was serious about training me in self-defense, explaining it was his one regret from Detroit. We waited until the buildings around us emptied before we left. Clay had taken me at my word that I was being hunted and wanted to exercise extra caution until we’d managed to secure plans for leaving the country.

We held hands as we trailed through the corridors to the exit. My mood was completely different from when I’d arrived. Instead of being tired and ready to give up, I was buoyant. Ready to fight for everything I’d rediscovered. Clay’s hand surrounded mine in a way that told me he felt the same. We wouldn’t be separated again. I could feel that certainty growing in my chest.

“Why don’t you show me your newfound skills,” Clay said as we walked up the deserted, dark street. He pointed to a car parked at the end of the road. Instead of being disgusted by the skills I’d had to learn like I’d thought he might have been, Clay was instead proud of the way I’d taught myself to do those things. He was keen for me to show him what I knew.

I grinned at him. “I bet we can be underway in less than two minutes.”

“Two minutes?” he teased. “That long?”

For his cheek, he earned an elbow to the ribs.

“Let’s do this then,” he said.

Swinging my backpack around to my front, I dug around for my switchblade. After following my usual practice of scanning the street and surrounding buildings for signs of the owner or witnesses, I jimmied open the car door. As soon as I was in, I leaned across and unlocked the passenger door before I slipped my hands under the steering column to work on the ignition. Just under a minute later, the engine roared to life, and I put it in gear.

“Not bad,” Clay said with a smile.

I snorted. “I’d like to see you do better.”

He winked at me. “Next time.”

Both of us turned and scanned our surroundings as I drove. There weren’t many other cars on the road at first, but as we drove through town, we hit a jam. As we sat in the stop-start traffic, we were both lost in thought.

Each time I looked over at Clay, he smiled serenely at me, and my own mouth twisted up in response. He reached across and coaxed my hand from the steering wheel, holding it tightly and bringing it to his lips before resting our joined hands on the center console.

“I really thought today would be completely different,” I admitted eventually.

“I can’t believe you willingly walked into what you thought was a trap,” he said quietly.

“It’s been a long couple of years.”

He snorted. “You’re telling me! Things will be different from now on though, okay? I promise.”

Squeezing his hand, I let him know that I agreed.

We traveled in silence as the traffic died away. For the moment our travel plans were loose, and I drove in a general westward direction to put distance between us and Charlotte.

The roads grew steeper and more twisted as we reached the mountainous tracks. They rose and fell as we traversed the mountains, and I was thankful for the stroke of luck we’d had—the car’s gas tank was a little over half full so we didn’t have to stop for a couple of hours. Because of that good fortune, we were covering the miles rapidly. The relief that overtook us both was palpable.

 

 

WE’D BEEN driving for about three hours when a gas station loomed into view. Checking the gauge once more, wishing that there would miraculously be more gas in the tank than the last time I looked, I found that although the needle still wasn’t on empty yet, it was dragging ever closer to it. Not having traversed these particular streets before, there was no way of knowing when the next opportunity to stop might arise.

“We should fill up,” Clay said, echoing my own thoughts.

Nodding, I pulled the car off at the exit. As soon as I cut the engine, he climbed from the car.

“I’ll get this one,” he said with a grin.

Waiting patiently in the car while he filled the tank, the familiar scent of flammable fumes inundated me and pinned me in place. The smell took me to the same place it always did—tied to the chair in the almost empty apartment we’d shared in Detroit. Tremors raced over my skin and my heart sped. Squeezing the hard plastic steering wheel tightly with my fingers, I tried to shake the image and concentrate on the fact that Clay was back by my side.

Desperate to turn my mind away from the nightmarish scene invading it, I tried to focus on the positives. At least I hadn’t needed to get into disguise for this gas stop. It might have been a small consolation, but it was a huge relief. There was nothing I needed to do but wait and hide in the car.

I reminded myself that in a few moments Clay would finish filling the tank, go inside and pay, and then we’d be back on the road. Together. That was how we would do everything now. Deep in the core of me, the sunbird reveled in our reunion. Somehow, we would stay together this time. She would ensure it, if only to keep me sane. The thought slowed my heart and made the corners of my mouth twitch upwards with joy.

Even though I didn’t know the specific roads we were traveling, I’d been in the vicinity before and knew we were a few towns away from the Great Smoky Mountains National Park. Once we were through there, we could dump the car and get the next one. It didn’t matter what we did or where we went from there because there would be no more doubt. No more heartache.

I was so lost in thought I jumped when the passenger door swung open and Clay slid back into the car. His expression was one of deep thought.

“What’s wrong?” All of my positivity left in a rush with one look at the concern resting heavily on his features.

He glanced up at me briefly, as though he’d almost forgotten I was in the car. “Nothing really, it’s just . . . well, the TV in there was set to the news, and apparently twelve campers have disappeared around here.”

I remembered the lady at the motel in Kentucky saying something similar and frowned. “What does that mean exactly?”

“I don’t know,” he said, his brow furrowed in concentration. Turning his head toward me, he forced a smile. “It’s probably nothing, but it could be a case. If it is, there might be Rain operatives nearby.”

I could feel the color drain from my face. Not again.

He lifted his hand and brushed it across my cheek. The sensation of his touch made my stomach clench and flutter. I wanted nothing more than to park the car somewhere we could spend some more time together uninterrupted, but I knew it wasn’t safe yet.

“Let’s get out of here.”

Only too eager to keep moving, I readily agreed.

Shortly after getting back on the road again, I noticed a Dodge truck moving suspiciously behind me. Every time I turned, it followed shortly after. It was too much of a coincidence that I could be accidentally driving the darkened streets in a pattern that exactly match a stranger’s route home. It was too dark to make out the driver’s features in the mirror, but I made a mental note of the license plate.

In order to check whether the truck was indeed following us, I took the three next right-hand turns that I came across, anxiously watching as the truck followed me through the first two. When I took the third corner, I held my breath, releasing it only after the truck sailed past, continuing along the other road.

Before I’d even had a chance to let the relief filter through me, Clay dropped my hand and twisted sharply in his seat, watching as the truck went through the intersection behind us.

“What was that car?” he asked. The tone of his voice set me on edge again. He frowned as he shifted in his seat, no doubt trying to catch another glimpse of the vehicle.

“I think it was a Dodge truck,” I said. “And I thought it was following us.”

“Go!” he shouted. “Now! Get us out of here!”

I craned my neck to the side trying to see whatever it was that had put Clay on edge.

“Now, Evie.”

“What is it?”

“It’s one of the Rain!” He glanced around, as if the truck would miraculously reappear behind us even though we’d left it behind. “We’ve got to go before they come back.”

Not needing to be told twice just how bad it would be for the Rain to catch up with us if Clay was right about the truck, I pushed my foot a little harder against the pedal. Clay shifted in his seat again. His nerves added to my own and set me on edge. My first instinct was to get through the town as fast as possible so that I wasn’t relegated to the speed limits of suburban streets.

Gripping the steering wheel tightly, I twisted the car through the roads until the houses thinned and trees rose up around us. Glancing in my rearview mirror, I breathed a quiet sigh of relief when I saw an empty road behind me.

“Do you have any idea where we are?” I asked.

In my manic driving, I’d lost track of where we were. All I knew was that we’d stopped for gas on the outskirts of Bryson City and we hadn’t traveled too far yet.

The last thing we needed was to get caught on some random mountain track without enough room to maneuver or blindly charge into a dead-end. I needed to find an escape.

Wracking my brain, I tried to remember anything about the area, but I’d done so much cross-country travel without really caring where I was to remember specific areas. Plus, everything looked so much different on foot.

Clay shook his head to answer my question.

Just as I was becoming more concerned with finding where we were than the possible Rain truck that had been behind us, headlights swung into my view. A truck came barreling closer to us, bearing down on us at an unsafe speed. I swallowed down my fear as I confirmed with a glance in my rearview mirror that the truck was the same one from earlier.

It was too reminiscent of my chase with Ethan, and I couldn’t cope. My mind began to close down as fear took hold.

“We’ve got company,” I whimpered.

Clay placed his hand over mine, providing strength and the will to push on despite the odds.

“Go, Evie, don’t stop. Don’t look back. Just go! It’ll be okay! I promise.”

I nodded. “Sure thing,” I muttered through clenched teeth. Then, holding the steering wheel in a death grip, I forced my foot to the floor and followed the mountain path I was on as fast as I dared.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Clay murmured under his breath as he watched the truck in the passenger-side mirror.

“Not helping!” I hissed in response.

“I’m sorry! I guess I’m out of practice. I really didn’t expect them to find us so soon.”

I groaned in exasperation. The air in the car flamed hotter. “I told you I was being tracked.”

“I know,” he said in a soothing tone. “I just didn’t realize how close they were—how close I might have really been to losing you forever.”

Images of Luke and his mom flashed into my head and unhelpfully flooded my eyes with tears. “They’ve been just one step behind for a long time. If it’s Ethan, he’s definitely taken some time to learn my patterns and hideouts.”

“Probably,” Clay said. “That’s what they do. It’s almost like a game to some of them. My brother especially.”

“What did I do to deserve it?”

“Nothing.” He placed his hand on my shoulder to soothe me. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault any more than it is mine.”

He frowned but didn’t argue. Twisting in his seat again, he watched the truck behind us carefully for a moment.

“Whatever happens next, just drive,” he said. “Don’t stop the car for anything. Okay?”

I wondered if he’d suddenly lost his marbles. As if I’d stop with the Rain barreling down on us. “I wasn’t planning on it!”

Unclipping his seatbelt, he leaned over and pulled his bag onto his lap. He rifled through the contents for a few seconds before pulling a handgun from the depths and tossing the backpack down onto the floor. He swung around in his seat so he was kneeling against the backrest.

Holding the gun in one hand, he loaded it before removing the safety.

“Be careful,” I begged as I watched him in my periphery.

“It’s okay, just keep the car steady.”

I nodded, even though he couldn’t see.

“And warn me if you need to turn,” he added.

Risking a quick sideways glance, I watched him wrap one arm around the headrest and open the window. Anchoring himself in the car with the grip he had on the seat, he stuck his head through the opening and lined up his aim.

Reluctantly, I turned my head back toward the road, just in time to see a corner looming in the darkness.

“Hold on!” I screamed as I twisted the wheel sharply to avoid driving off the side of the road.

As we sped around the corner swearing and then a loud crash come from Clay’s side of the car.

“Want to give me a little more warning next time,” he grumbled.

“Sorry, you were distracting me.”

Leaning across the car, he touched a light kiss to my cheek. “There. Now, focus.”

I nodded, ensuring I had my eyes glued on the road ahead. It took every bit of concentration I had to keep the car steady and not send Clay tumbling out of the window at top speed. After he’d steadied himself, he fired the gun at the truck behind us. The sound of the shot echoed loudly through the car, causing me to flinch and grip the steering wheel tighter.

The scent of melting plastic filled the car, and I knew we had to leave the car soon or the wheel would be a molten puddle on the floor.

Usually, I drove on or just below the speed limit because I didn’t want to attract unwanted attention. Now that we had the Rain so obviously on our tail, being caught by the police was the least of my concerns, so I was pushing close to the top speed of the little sedan. The road we’d ended up on twisted and turned as it weaved around the outside of the mountain range. I shouted each time I had to take a corner, and Clay had to constantly readjust his hold. It meant he didn’t get to fire off as many shots as he probably could have otherwise. I only hoped that at least one of them had found it’s mark and the truck would disappear soon.

Risking a quick glance behind me to see what the truck was doing, I gasped. The headlights were closer than I’d expected them to be, alarmingly so.

“They’re getting closer,” I said to Clay, even though he could probably see the truck better than I could from his perch.

“I know! We’ll get out of this though, okay?” He punctuated his words with another gunshot.

“Left!” I shouted in response as I twisted the wheel sharply around another turn. The tires screeched in protest at the speed in which I’d taken the turn and the rear fishtailed wildly. Fighting against the heat in my hands, I wrestled with the steering wheel even as it deteriorated in my hold. Clumps of melted plastic barely clung to the metal frame in places, leaving almost no safe surface to grip. Ignoring the sting it caused in my skin, I clutched at the wheel and held on tight while I and fought to pull our car back under control.

Once I had, my hands shook from the effort and my breath came in short, desperate puffs. Unable to gulp down enough oxygen, my panic grew. My temperature soared as my heart raced. My whole system was preparing for a fight, and I knew I didn’t have long before I lost control completely. Taking a few deep breaths, I tried to calm my nerves—the last thing we needed was for my protective instinct to take over and cause me to burn, especially while I was in a confined space with Clay.

“Evie? Are you okay?” Clay asked.

Taking another breath through clenched teeth, I nodded. “Just get them off our tail and I’ll be perfect.”

Another gunshot rang out through the night.

Clay gasped. “No, it can’t be!”

A moment later, the headlights behind me dropped away.

When the truck disappeared from my mirror, Clay slid back into the seat and his head tipped forward into his hands.

“I don’t believe it,” he muttered.

“What is it?” I asked.

“You have to stop,” he said, his voice hollow and tinged with pain.

I risked a quick glance over at him. Even with my small appraisal, it was clear that something was definitely not right.

His face was pale as a sheet, and his hands shook violently. He looked ill, and his fingers clutched at his hair, almost tearing it from his scalp. Something he’d seen had spooked him badly. I didn’t understand it; the Rain chasing us wasn’t unexpected. What had happened to cause the sudden change in him?

I slowed the car a little but didn’t stop. “What did you see?”

“You have to stop,” he said again. “I have to know.”

“Know what?” I asked urgently, slowing the car a little further until I was just under the speed limit. There was no way I was stopping until I knew what he had seen though, what had caused him instantaneous grief.

“I think . . .” he trailed off before lifting his head to stare vaguely ahead. His voice was as shaky as his body. “No, I know . . .” He issued a stuttered breath.

I held my breath as I waited for him to finish.

“The driver . . . it was Lou.”