Covet

Branches and thorns slashed my exposed legs. My thigh ignited in pain, and with failing balance, I skidded down a muddy incline. I rolled my ankle but rejected the idea of letting my pace drop. I tore through the forest, my heart pounding like a war drum in my chest.

The branches above formed a tangled canopy, casting eerie shadows on the damp earth beneath my feet. I gasped for air, my breaths coming in short bursts as I sprinted past twisted trunks and gnarled roots, driven by the desperate need to escape.

The trees thinned out, and I stumbled. Carlyle's van came into view. The keys were in a vice-like grip in my hand. With three keys on his chain, I fumbled, cursing under my breath, trying the first in the lock, followed by the second.

A howl echoed around the forest, followed by a set of angry growls. Although the voices seemed familiar, the people no longer were. The last key went in, turned, and I flung open the door. I cranked the engine and headed straight for the town. There must be someone who could help me.

My dark corkscrew curls clung to my sweaty face as I drove. Lucille's legacy already weighed heavy on my shoulders; I couldn't bear the thought of becoming lost out here like her too.

Making it into town, its cobblestone surface gleamed under the pale moonlight. It was eerily quiet, as though life itself had been sucked away, leaving nothing but the hollow shells of buildings. There were no cars parked along the curb, and no pedestrians walking down the sidewalks. I'd entered a ghost town. I pulled up and parked.

Where was everyone? I scanned the deserted storefronts. Panic bubbled up inside me, threatening to choke me. I needed help, someone – anyone – to save me. I began to search the buildings one by one, driven by desperation. I tried the door of the bakery first, but it was locked tight, and the windows shuttered.

Next, I moved to the small grocery store, hoping against hope that someone might be stocking the shelves. The door gave way under my shaking hand, but the store was as empty and lifeless as the street outside.

As I approached the next building, the bar, now so unfamiliar in the dark, the sense of being watched fell like a blanket around me. My heart raced as if it were trying to break free from my chest, and my breaths were shallow, barely providing enough oxygen for my burning lungs, but I refused to give in to fear.

The door to the bar creaked open, its rusty hinges protesting my hurried entrance. My eyes scanned the dusty, dimly lit room, searching for any sign of life. The vinyl booths sat unoccupied, and the bar remained barren, the stools void of customers.

Think, Dana, think. And then, like a beacon in the darkness, it came to me—Paul's dad's cabin. Running no longer mattered because they all knew where I was and where I would go, which was why I needed to hole up somewhere new, and unexpected until I could comprehend what I just saw and how I could leave Benton for good. It wasn't far from here, hidden among the trees on the outskirts of town. With luck, I could reach it before they caught up to me. Desolate, sheltering with the enemy, and all memories of my visit were wiped by morning. It could work for now.

My lungs burned with each ragged breath, but I couldn't afford to slow down - not when freedom was so tantalizingly close. Back at Carlyle's van, I wasted no time pulling out.

The vehicle flew through the brush and back down the forest lane. With the main road in sight, I spun the wheel and loosened my grip, taking the corner at speed and touching down on the tarmac. When the highway ahead straightened, I floored the gas, and the van thundered to life.

Paul's dad's cabin was on the other side of town. I pulled into a secluded spot shrouded in brambles and killed the engine. The kerosene lantern was the only source of light as I trudged up the porch steps.