Chapter 2 - The Whispering Forest
The forest behind our property was five hundred acres of dense oak, thick underbrush, and rocky ravines. I had walked these trails every summer with Leo, but tonight, under the torrent of a midnight thunderstorm, it had transformed into a labyrinth of black shadows and grasping branches.
My lungs felt like they were filled with crushed glass. Every breath was a agonizing battle against the toxin circulating in my bloodstream. My vision was swimming, dark spots blooming across my field of sight like ink dropping onto wet paper.
"Leo... stay with me, baby," I sobbed, pulling his soaked frame closer to my chest as I stumbled down a muddy incline.
Behind us, two powerful beams of light pierced the darkness of the trees.
"Sarah!" David’s voice boomed through the woods, distorted by the wind and rain. He sounded angry now, the calm, calculated sociopath stripped away to reveal something far more feral. "You can't survive out here! You took enough to kill an adult twice your size! Stop making this harder than it needs to be!"
He had a heavy tactical flashlight, its halogen beam sweeping across the wet tree trunks just fifty yards behind me. Alongside his heavy tread, I heard the sharp, frantic splashes of Victoria following close behind.
"Check the creek bed!" Victoria yelled. "She can't carry the boy far in her condition!"
I ducked behind the hollowed-out trunk of an ancient sycamore tree, sliding down into the mud and pulling Leo completely underneath my body to shelter him from the rain and the searching lights. I pressed my hand tightly over his nose and mouth, leaving just enough space for him to breathe, terrified that a sudden unconscious groan from him would betray our position.
The flashlight beam swept directly over our hiding spot, illuminating the wet bark above my head.
"She’s bleeding," David’s voice was much closer now—no more than twenty feet away. I could hear the wet crunch of gravel under his boots. "She cut her foot on the glass door. Follow the blood trail!"
My heart hammered against my ribs like a trapped bird. I looked down at my feet. In my desperation to escape the kitchen, I hadn't put on shoes. My right sole was sliced open, leaving a bright red trail through the grey mud. The rain was washing it away, but not fast enough.
"David, over here!" Victoria called from the left. "The tracks go down toward the old drainage pipe!"
"Go around the ridge," David commanded. "I'll take the lower path. Cut her off at the access road."
Their footsteps diverged. David was moving down the slope directly toward the sycamore tree.
I reached blindly into the mud beside my thigh, my fingers closing around a heavy, jagged rock. The poison was paralyzing my throat; I couldn't swallow, and my vision was degrading into total blackness around the edges. If I had to fight him here, in the dirt, I would lose. I was a mother dying of chemical toxicity, facing a six-foot-two man fueled by panic and greed.
Use his arrogance against him, a quiet, cold voice whispered inside my head.
I picked up a smaller stone with my left hand and tossed it high over the bushes to my right. It crashed through the wet foliage and landed with a loud splash in the deep creek water twenty feet away.
David whirled around instantly. "Got you," he muttered, swinging his flashlight toward the sound and breaking into a heavy run toward the creek.
The moment his back was turned, I hauled Leo up again. My muscles screamed in agony, lactic acid and poison burning through my fibers, but I forced my legs to move in the opposite direction—up the steep, rocky slope toward the highway.
We climbed for what felt like an eternity. Every step was a monumental victory against complete paralysis. My fingers were entirely numb now; I had to wrap Leo’s coat sleeves around my neck to keep him attached to me because my hands could no longer grip his clothes.
Finally, the trees thinned. Ahead, through the driving rain, I saw the stark silver outline of a chain-link fence and the periodic flash of headlights speeding along the interstate.
I hit the fence, collapsing against the cold wire mesh.
"Help!" I tried to scream, but only a dry, wheezing gasp escaped my lips.
On the other side of the fence was an emergency pull-off lane. A large black SUV was parked on the shoulder, its hazard lights blinking rhythmically in the storm.
A tall figure in a dark trench coat was standing near the trunk, holding an umbrella over an open engine bay.
I rattled the fence with my shoulder, throwing my weight against the metal links until it made a loud, metallic clatter.
The figure turned instantly. The flashlight in his hand swept up, pinning me against the wire.
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"Please..." I slurred, my mouth refusing to form the words correctly as my lower jaw locked up completely. "My son... poison... help us..."
The man didn't hesitate. He dropped his umbrella, pulled a heavy wire cutter from his tool roll, and began slicing through the chain-link barrier with brutal, practiced efficiency.