Chapter 7 - The Pine Hollow Trail
Mark sprinted toward the treeline, branches lashing across his face like whips. The rain had begun to fall in earnest, turning the pine needles beneath his boots into slick, treacherous muck. The canopy swallowed all ambient light, forcing him to navigate by the rough contour of the ridges he had memorized as a boy.
Fifty yards into the timber, he found Sarah crouched beneath the hollowed roots of a fallen oak tree. She had wrapped her jacket around Leo, who was shivering violently, his small chest heaving with silent, terror-stricken sobs.
""They brought reinforcements,"" Mark whispered, dropping beside them. ""At least ten men. They’re sweeping the perimeter.""
""Who are they, Mark?"" Sarah demanded, her voice shaking with righteous fury despite her fear. ""What did you steal from them that makes them hunt our five-year-old child?""
Mark looked down at his duffel bag, which he had dragged through the mud. ""I didn't steal money, Sarah. I stole their ledger. Every politician, every black-budget transaction, every target they ordered us to eliminate off the books. I kept it as leverage to buy my freedom.""
""It didn't buy freedom,"" she hissed. ""It bought an execution order.""
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""Which is why we have to get to Marcus’s safehouse in Oakhaven,"" Mark replied grimly. ""He has an encrypted satellite uplink. We broadcast the files to the press, and Vanguard’s hunters become the hunted.""
Behind them, the distant crackle of radio static echoed through the damp woods, followed by the deep, resonant barking of tracking hounds.
