Page 163 of Whispers and Wildfire
Filledwith fear and with smoke stinging my eyes, I raced down the uneven dirt road. For all I knew, I was heading toward the fire. Visibility was low, the trees shrouded by a thick haze of gray, and ash fell from the sky.
My throat was dry and scratchy. I wasn’t going to be able to run for long in the smoke. Should I turn off the road? Go into the trees? I had no idea if I’d knocked Roswell unconscious, and if I had, I didn’t know how long he’d stay that way. He had a car. He could catch up to me any second. Somewhere along the way—probably right outside the cabin—I’d dropped the fireplace poker, so I no longer had a weapon.
If I left the road, I’d probably get lost. Was lost in the woods in wildfire territory better than held captive by a man who wanted to keep me for his pet?
Yeah, it kinda was.
My throat tightened. Stopping, I ducked behind a tree before the coughing fit overtook me. The dry, acrid air was brutal on my airways, and it took me a moment to catch my breath.
A noise came out of the gloom. It sounded like the rumbleof an engine. Bracing myself against the trunk, I took another ragged breath as I listened. Where was it coming from? Was it Roswell?
I was about to dart away through the trees, anything to get away from Roswell, when I realized it wasn’t coming from the cabin. Someone was approaching from the other direction.
Firefighters again? Would they come back?
I didn’t know, and I didn’t particularly care. I stepped out into the road so I could wave them down. Headlights gleamed through the smoke, and a second later, a blue muscle car appeared.
Tires skidded, kicking up dust into the smoky air as the car came to an abrupt stop. I froze in place, mid wave, and my eyes widened with shock.
It definitely wasn’t firefighters.
The driver’s side door swung open, and Luke flew out of the car. Without a second’s hesitation, he ran to me, scooping me up in his arms. My feet dangled above the ground, and his strong arms held me tight.
“Luke?” I asked, scarcely able to believe he was real. “You found me.”
With his arms still around me, holding me close, he set me down and pulled back just enough to look at me. “Are you hurt?”
“Not really. How did you find me?”
“It’s a long story.” He cupped my cheeks and planted a hard kiss on my lips. “We need to get out of here.”
The sound of another vehicle carried in the air. It was coming from behind me—from the direction of the cabin.
My eyes widened with fear. Luke’s narrowed with resolve.
Without a word, we raced to the car and got in. I tugged on the seat belt and fastened it while he backed up to turn around in the tight space.
“I hit him with a fireplace poker, but I don’t know if Iknocked him out or what,” I said. “He had the car keys in his pocket.”
Luke nodded. He made a quick forward maneuver, backed up a couple feet, then cranked the steering wheel and got the car turned around. A second later, we were on our way.
His eyes flicked to the rearview mirror. I twisted to look behind us and saw the flash of headlights approaching through the smoke.
“Faster,” I said. “Go faster.”
He didn’t respond. He faced straight ahead, and his jaw was tight as his hands gripped the steering wheel.
I looked back. Roswell was catching up.
We bounced around with every bump, and Luke let go of the steering wheel with one hand to grab the seat belt and wrench it across his body. I took it and clicked it in place so he could keep driving. We hit another bump, and if we hadn’t been strapped in, we probably would have banged our heads on the ceiling.
My heart raced, and my throat still hurt from running in the smoke. Bracing myself with both hands, I tried not to shriek in terror every time a tree branch jutted out over the road or debris seemed to block our path. Luke handled it all with expert finesse, steering around every obstacle without crashing into anything.
A jolt hit us from behind, and I whipped around. Roswell had bumped Luke’s car.
“Is he trying to run us off the road?” I asked.
Luke kept his eyes straight ahead, and his voice was calm. “Yep.”
