I look at him, unable to comprehend his words. “What?”
“This is your first test.” He unbuckles his seatbelt. There’s a glint in his eyes—something wild and dangerous. “If I say run, you don’t hesitate, you don’t ask questions, you fucking run. Now.” He unlocks the car doors. “Run.”
Terror floods my veins, cold and sharp.
I unbuckle. My hands are shaking so badly I can barely get the button to release. I shove open the passenger door and bolt, shutting the car door.
My feet hit the gravel, then dirt, then forest floor. Leaves crunch under my sneakers. Branches whip at my face. I don’t stop.
I watch where my feet step, terrified of falling, of tripping over a root and being caught. I don’t dare look back. Don’t dare slow down.
Once I’m in the trees, I angle right. Not straight. Never run straight—that’s what they say, right? Make yourself unpredictable.
I sprint like my life depends on it.
Because maybe it does.
My lungs burn. My legs scream. But I keep going, searching the dark trees ahead for somewhere to hide. I spot a fallen log—massive, covered in moss—but that’s too obvious. He’d check there first.
I jump over it and keep running.
I can’t believe this is happening. It’s only the first day of classes and I’m already caught up in this bullshit. Running through the woods from a drug dealer who—
My phone rings.
The sound shatters the silence like a gunshot. I gasp, fumble for my pocket, yank it out and silence it with shaking fingers.
Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
I just gave away my position. After all that running, all that careful footwork, and I gave it away because I forgot to silence my goddamn phone.
I change direction immediately, angling back toward the road. If I can get back to the highway, flag down a car, maybe—
I put the phone on silent, shove it back in my pocket, and run harder.
My breath comes in ragged gasps. My side aches, a sharp stitch that makes each step agony. I’m almost out of breath. I need to stop. Need to rest.
I spot another log and duck behind it, pressing my back against the rough bark. My chest heaves. Sweat drips down my temples.
In the distance, I hear footsteps.
Slow. Measured. Like he’s not even trying to catch me yet.
My heart pounds so hard I think it might explode. What the hell is he going to do when he catches me?
I know I can’t outrun him. He’s bigger, stronger, faster. But maybe I can fight him.
I look around frantically, searching for something—anything—I can use as a weapon. My fingers close around a thick branch, half-buried in leaves. I yank it free, test its weight. It’ll do.
I stand slowly, forcing my breathing to slow. In through my nose, out through my mouth. I can do this. I have to do this.
I run from tree to tree, careful not to exhaust myself completely. Save some energy. Be smart.
In the distance, I hear the car lock beep.
I freeze.
The sound echoes through the trees, unmistakable. He’s locking the car. Which means...
