Chapter 5 - Cabin in the Pines
The tires of Derek's truck sprayed gravel as we tore out of the diner parking lot, bouncing over the curb and cutting across the grass to bypass the town car blocking the lane. In the rearview mirror, I watched the sedan's headlights spin around in a frantic arc before giving chase, the dark silhouette of my husband's private security detail glaring beneath the halogen streetlamps.
"Hang on!" Derek shouted, shifting down as he pushed the truck onto the winding logging roads that led deeper into the dense pine forests of the northern county.
The branches of ancient hemlocks whipped against the sides of the truck, scratching the paint in a rhythmic, violent screech as we climbed higher into the hills. The snow began to mix with the rain, turning the dirt tracks into a slick, treacherous morass of mud and slush. Behind us, the twin beams of the pursuers' headlights bobbed through the trees, closing the distance on the sharp switchbacks.
"They're gaining on us, Derek!" I cried out, one hand bracing against the dashboard while the other clutched my belly as the truck bounced violently over a rocky washout.
"They won't follow us past the old timber bridge," Derek muttered, his jaw set, his knuckles white against the steering wheel. "The county stopped maintaining it three winters ago. Their suspension won't take the drop."
Sure enough, as we crossed the creaking wooden planks of the narrow bridge, the wooden structure groaned under our weight before settling back into stillness. In the distance behind us, the headlights stopped at the edge of the ravine, unable to cross the rotting timbers safely. The orange glow of their high beams faded into the gray curtain of the falling snow as we descended into the hidden valley beyond.
Twenty minutes later, Derek pulled the truck up to a modest, log-sided cabin nestled against the edge of a frozen lake. The windows were dark, but the chimney still retained a faint curl of woodsmoke from a previous tenant.
"My grandfather built this place," Derek said, killing the engine as the silence of the deep woods rushed in to swallow us. "No landline, no cell towers for five miles, and entirely off the grid. We're safe here, at least until the storm passes."
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We carried what little we had inside, lighting a kerosene lamp that cast long, golden shadows across the rustic pine walls. As Derek stoked the stone fireplace into a steady blaze, I sat on the threadbare sofa, staring at the leaping flames. I pulled the flash drive from my coat pocket and set it on the rough-hewn wooden coffee table. The battle was far from over, but for the first time in years, the air in my lungs felt entirely my own.
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