Chapter 5 - Hunted in the Pines
Fiona’s heart hammered against her ribs like a trapped bird.
They had been found. Whether through a GPS tracker on the SUV or a cell tower ping from Dominic's phone, Vance's mercenary team had tracked them down.
She didn't have weapons. She didn't have bodyguards. All she had was her trauma kit, her nursing instincts, and a fiery determination to protect the helpless boy sleeping upstairs.
Fiona dropped to her hands and knees, crawling through the dark living room toward the stairs. She sprinted up the wooden steps, making no sound, and burst into Arthur’s bedroom.
"Arthur! Wake up, sweetie!" she whispered frantically, gently shaking the boy's shoulder.
Arthur opened his eyes, blinking drowsily in the dark. "Fiona? Is it dark outside?"
"Listen to me very carefully, Arthur," Fiona whispered, pulling him out of bed and slipping his shoes onto his feet. "We're going to play a game. It's called 'Hide and Seek,' and we have to be completely quiet. Okay?"
Arthur nodded, his small face pale but resolute. "Like the Sandman game?"
"Yes, but this time, we're winning," Fiona said fiercely.
She grabbed her medical bag, slung it over her shoulder, and led Arthur out of the room. Below them, she heard the heavy glass of the back door shatter, followed by the crunch of tactical boots stepping over broken glass.
"Search the ground floor," a harsh, synthesized voice ordered from below. "If the kid is here, take him alive. The nurse is expendable. Kill her on sight."
Fiona’s stomach dropped. She knew the layout of the safehouse—there was no back staircase. The only way down was through the main living room where the gunmen were currently sweeping.
Thinking fast, Fiona pulled Arthur into the master bathroom at the end of the hall. She locked the door, pushed a heavy wooden linen chest against it, and looked around for an escape route.
There was a small laundry chute in the corner, meant for dropping towels down to the basement, and a small transom window leading out to the roof above the garage.
"Arthur, look at me," Fiona said, kneeling in front of him. "I'm going to put you inside this laundry chute. It slides down into a pile of soft clothes in the basement. You wait for me there under the blankets, and don't make a single sound. Do you understand?"
"Are you coming too?" Arthur whimpered, tears welling in his eyes.
"I'm right behind you," Fiona lied softly, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek.
She lifted the boy, placed him into the plastic chute, and pushed him gently. He slid down silently into the darkness below.
Just as the chute door closed, a heavy shoulder slammed against the bathroom door. The wooden frame creaked.
"In here! She locked the bathroom!" a mercenary shouted.
Fiona grabbed a bottle of rubbing alcohol from the medicine cabinet, poured it across the wooden floor, and grabbed a box of decorative matches from the sink counter.
If they want a nurse, I'll give them an emergency room, she thought bitterly.
She struck a match, dropped it into the alcohol, and watched a wall of bright blue flame instantly burst across the floorboards.
"Fire!" the mercenary yelled from outside as smoke began pouring under the door.
Fiona didn't wait. She scrambled up onto the sink, pushed open the narrow transom window, and squeezed her slender body through the opening, tumbling out onto the slick, rain-soaked shingles of the garage roof.
The cold rain stung her skin as she slid across the wet roof, grabbing the gutter just in time to stop herself from plunging fifteen feet onto the concrete driveway below. She swung her legs over the edge, dropped down into the dense bushes surrounding the house, and ducked into the shadow of the trees.
She circled back toward the basement storm doors at the rear of the house. Grabbing a heavy landscaping stone, she smashed the rusty padlock, yanked the storm doors open, and rushed into the dark basement.
"Arthur!" she called out in a frantic whisper.
"Fiona!"
A tiny form emerged from beneath a pile of laundry in the corner. Arthur ran into her arms, burying his face in her wet clothes.
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"Good boy, very good boy," Fiona breathed, holding him tight.
She picked him up, slung her trauma bag over her arm, and sprinted out of the basement into the dark, rain-drenched pine forest surrounding the property.
