Page 54 of Sick(ness)

She stumbled forward, heart pounding, while behind her Sawyer turned, his rifle steady and eyes sharp, the soldier in him fully awake again.

The gunfire came again — closer this time, wood splintering from the cabin door frame as Sawyer pushed Addy ahead of him.

“Move!” he barked, his voice cutting through the chaos.

Branches snapped against Addy’s arms as she stumbled into the trees, breath ragged. The cold air bit at her face, but she barely felt it, only the rush of panic, the pounding of her heart, and the sound of Sawyer’s boots right behind her.

Another shot cracked through the air. Bark exploded beside them. Sawyer spun, dropped to one knee, and fired twice into the treeline. The echo was deafening.

“Go!” he shouted.

Addy kept running, her boots slipping in the frozen dirt. She could hear the shouts of the men behind them now, angry and close. Whoever they were, they weren’t just scavengers; they were organized, moving with purpose.

Sawyer caught up to her, grabbed her arm, and pulled her behind a downed pine. They crouched low, breath coming in visible clouds.

“You hit them?” she whispered.

“Maybe one,” he said. “They’ll be cautious now.” He checked his magazine, jaw tight. “We need distance before they regroup.”

Addy nodded, though her legs were trembling. “Where do we go?”

“Back toward the ridge,” he said. “There’s an old service road up that way. If we can find it, we might lose them.”

They started moving again, slower this time, crouched, careful. Sawyer moved first, scanning ahead, every sense sharpened by instinct. Addy followed close, doing her best to place her boots where his had been.

After a few minutes, he raised a hand, and she froze. Voices, faint but clear, drifted through the trees behind them.

“Spread out!” One yelled. “They couldn’t have gone far!”

Sawyer looked back at her, his expression calm but intense. “If they spot us, don’t stop. No matter what happens.”

Her throat felt tight. “What about you?”

He gave a faint, grim smile. “I’ll make sure they don’t follow.”

She wanted to argue, but before she could, he was already moving again, leading her uphill through the thick underbrush. The forest swallowed them, branches clawing at their clothes, frost crunching underfoot.

When they finally broke through to a narrow clearing, the sky had gone pale and cold above them. Sawyer stopped long enough to scan their surroundings, then turned back to her, his breath quick and white in the air.

“Are you okay?”

Addy nodded weakly, though she wasn’t sure she meant it. “I think so.”

He stepped closer, his voice dropping low. “Listen. If we get separated—”

“We won’t,” she said quickly.

His eyes met hers, steady and unreadable. “If we do, head north. Keep the ridge on your right. Don’t stop for anything.”

She swallowed hard, but nodded.

A branch cracked somewhere below them, closer this time. Sawyer’s expression changed instantly.

“They’re tracking us,” he whispered. “We keep moving.”

He took her hand, not out of tenderness, but to keep her from falling as they started up the slope. His grip was strong, sure, unyielding.

Behind them, the voices grew louder.