Page 115 of Silas

“Where am I going?”

“You’re going to crash Silas’s little reunion with Malik,” she answers. “With any luck, Malik’s men will take care of your father’s. And if anything happens, you’ll be close to Silas, so he’ll be able to get to you faster.”

“Um…that sounds…risky.”

“It is. Malik’s men could just shoot all of you. But it’s that or have a shootout with them, and I doubt you would fare well in that scenario. You can’t outrun them, so this is the only real option. If you were an experienced driver with evasive maneuvers training, I could help you lose them. But seeing as you’ve never driven before, it’s a small miracle you haven’t crashed yet as it is.”

“Oh. Well, I guess I see your point.”

“Now, focus. Pay attention. You’re in the country at night. A deer could—"

At that precise moment, something brown and huge appears in the middle of the road. There’s no time to brake, to swerve, nothing. I scream, and then there’s a tremendous crash of glass shattering, metal crunching. I’m slammed forward by a giant’s hand, caught by the vicious protection of the seatbelt I don’t remember putting on. Something impossibly hard cracks into my head, and darkness swirls in my vision, pain cascading through me.

I must black out for a moment.

Noises filter through to me as I come to.

Hissing. A guttural groan from an animal. Something squeals—metal on metal: brakes. Voices. Doors closing.

I struggle against the swallowing black, against the pain. I know pain. I can fight it.

I fumble with the seatbelt. It releases me reluctantly. Spots dance in my vision. A deer is lodged partly through the windshield, its head limp on the hood, one hoof dangling inside the cab; the hoof must have struck my forehead.

I touch my face and my hand comes away bloody. The pain is nauseating, but pain is an old friend; I clamp my teeth together and fight it away.

I hear boots on gravel, behind me.

I throw open the door and fling myself out—I hit the dirt on my hands and knees, scrabble to my feet and lurch into motion. My feet slip in the gravel, and I hear shouts. Blood stings my eyes, and I dash it away with my arm.

Somehow, I had the presence of mind to grab the phone. I hear Inez frantically calling my name. I don’t look back, I just run into the woods. Branches slap my face, scratch my arms and hands and torso.

Feet tromp behind me, curses hound me. A gunshot rings out, and bark spits against my cheek.

“Quit shootin’ at her, ya dumbfuck!” A voice hollers. “We gotta bring her in alive!”

Good thing I don’t share the same restriction.

I hear Inez still calling my name from the phone. I shove it against my ear as I stumble pell-mell through the forest, caroming off trees and ducking under branches.

“Inez. I’m here,” I pant.

“Are you okay? What happened?”

“Hit…a deer,” I pant. “I’m hurt…but okay. Running. They’re…chasing.”

“Hang up. Deal with them. Call back as soon as you can.” A short pause. “No mercy, Naomi. They’ll show you none.”

Don’t I know it. I shove the phone into my thigh pocket and focus on running.

A flashlight spears light across my path, highlighting me. Shouts follow.

Another shot rings out, but it goes wide—I still duck instinctively and veer away from the direction of the shot.

I pull my pistol free, risk a quick look behind me. I see points of light bobbing, weaving. I see a muzzle burst flash in the dark, and something zings past, high and wide.

They’re just trying to scare me, I realize.

I duck behind a monster elm and skid to a stop, sucking lungfuls of air into my burning lungs. I’d almost forgotten about my ribs, hurt from the beating I took before escaping; I’m panting so hard they hurt again.