Page 83 of Angel
“Cage!” Angel yelled. Fear gripped her at the sight of the body floating in the pool, but it propelled her forward all the faster.
Angel threw herself through the broken window, barely feeling the sharp edges of the glass as they scraped along her. She sprinted across the overgrown lawn, dropping only her gun before she leapt into the murky water. Angel tried to keep her head above the water, but her boots pulled her down for just a second.
She gripped the arm of the face-down body and managed to turn it over while treading water.
Angel let out a sigh of relief when she saw it wasn’t one of the kids. It was Pastor Robins.
Movement out of the corner of her eye had her looking over her right shoulder. Cage was kneeling down at the edge of the pool, holding both of their guns. Bulldog, Lucky, Grumpy, and Bones were rushing out of the office behind him.
“It’s the pastor!” she called out to them. She grabbed the man’s arm and started pulling him to the edge of the pool where Cage was.
As Cage lifted the body out of the murky pool, Angel gripped the concrete edge and hoisted herself up, twisting to land on her bottom. She spat into the pool, hoping to get out whatever grossness she had inhaled when she went under.
Cage put his fingers to the pastor’s pulse. “He’s dead,” he informed everyone. “Based on the head wound, I’m really hoping that was his blood they found and not one of the kids’.”
“Did you see the blood inside?” Angel asked him pointedly. “At least one of the kids is hurt.” Her eyes scanned around them. The motel was in the middle of nowhere, completely surrounded by woods and mountain terrain.
Spotting something to her left, Angel stood. Water sloshed in her boots as her eyes narrowed on the object.
Recognizing it, Angel picked up the shoe. She held it up in the air for the others to see. “Bree’s leaving us breadcrumbs.”
Bulldog approached her. “Smart girl.” He looked around and pointed to a broken branch at the edge of the woods. “Ranger taught her that. They went north.” He turned around and pointed in the opposite direction.
“These prints lead into the woods.” Angel pointed to a footprint that could have belonged to a loafer or a business shoe. Not the sort of shoe one would wear for a trek through the woods.
Bulldog’s face darkened. “She knew they were being pursued. They entered here, but she’ll turn them north.”
Angel didn’t normally question Bulldog, but this was her daughter. “How sure are you?”
Bulldog met her eyes. “Very.”
Angel nodded once. She needed to get her rifle from Keys’ van. It was time to go hunting.
Bree was exhausted, and she wasn’t even the one who was carrying another person through the woods. She knew Aaron was tiring because he was staggering more. But it was poor Ollie who was suffering the most. Not only was he not wearing shoes meant for hiking, but he didn’t have the endurance Aaron did from years of playing sports. He was also bleeding from being stabbed in the arm with a pair of scissors. Thankfully, it wasn’t deep, but Bree knew it was hurting him.
Aaron’s hands were now free. The same scissors that had wounded Ollie had set Aaron free only seconds prior. Bree’s hopes for the office phone working had not been high, but they still had to try. Unfortunately, they were spotted entering the office as the two men who had helped the pastor kidnap them came back.
The ensuing fight had ended with one of the men fleeing, one chasing them into the woods, and the pastor, who had not died when he hit his head, falling hard into the pool after Aaron bashed him with a pool chair. Bree had no doubt that the club was coming for them—they just needed to survive long enough for them to reach them.
Unfortunately, they’d long ago lost the use of the sun. Their running had turned into a slow walk with lots of tripping by moonlight.
“Do you hear him?” Bree whispered into Aaron’s ear.
Aaron paused and listened. This was not the first time they had lost him, but the man pursuing them could usually be heard in the distance.
Ollie stopped too. He leaned up against a large tree trunk, gasping for breath. He was clutching his right arm with his left hand. Bree couldn’t see in the dark well enough to know if he was still bleeding. She couldn’t tell if her leg had stopped either due to lack of sensation. Moonlight glistened off the tear tracks on Ollie’s cheeks.
“I don’t hear him,” Aaron said softly. “But let’s put a little more distance between us and him.”
Ollie shook his head. “I can’t do it. I can’t keep going.”
Aaron hiked Bree up more on his back. Even though his hands were no longer tied, he still had to keep his arms under her knees since she couldn’t hold them up on her own. Aaron neared Ollie and gently nudged him with his shoulder. “We have to keep moving.”
Ollie’s chin quivered as he looked up at Aaron with pleading, large brown eyes. “I can’t do it, Aaron. I’m not strong like you.”
Bree’s heart went out to the little guy. If it wasn’t for her inability to walk, she knew Aaron would have carried Ollie in a heartbeat.
Aaron moved closer to Ollie, leaning his cheek down on Ollie’s dirty mop of hair. It was awkward with Bree stuck to his back, but Aaron was careful not to scrape her leg against the tree bark. “Baby, I don’t need you to be strong. I need you to survive. I can’t take you on a date if you die here in the woods.”
