Chapter 7 - The Stormy Escape
The torrential rain felt like freezing needles against my skin as we trudged through the thick, deep mud.
Ryan walked directly behind me, constantly jabbing the cold metal barrel of his gun into my spine.
My father and Megan stayed on the back porch, unwilling to ruin their expensive clothes in the raging storm.
The wind howled fiercely through the towering pine trees, drowning out the sound of our snapping footsteps.
I led Ryan deeper into the dense forest, moving toward the most treacherous and overgrown part of the property.
I desperately needed a distraction to break free from his aggressive, violent control.
I kept my eyes on the dark sky, waiting patiently for the storm to provide exactly what I needed.
A massive, blinding fork of lightning suddenly illuminated the entire forest with intense white light.
The deafening crack of thunder immediately followed, causing Ryan to flinch and momentarily lower his weapon.
I used the microscopic window of opportunity to execute a desperate, violent maneuver.
I spun around wildly and delivered a brutal, shattering kick directly to the side of his right knee.
Ryan screamed in absolute agony as his leg buckled beneath him, sending him crashing into the freezing mud.
I did not wait for him to recover or aim his weapon.
I sprinted blindly into the dark woods, the heavy rain washing away my footprints instantly.
Two loud gunshots erupted behind me, the bullets violently splintering the tree trunks near my head.
I scrambled through the thick brush, ignoring the sharp branches tearing viciously at my skin and clothes.
I could feel the heavy, black leather ledger safely tucked inside the waterproof lining of my jacket.
I navigated toward the edge of the lake, searching desperately for the old, abandoned boathouse I had seen during the inspection.
The rotting wooden structure emerged from the fog like a dark, decaying ghost on the water.
I slipped through a broken side door, hiding completely in the pitch-black shadows of the damp interior.
I tried to slow my frantic breathing, hoping the howling wind would mask any sound I made.
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I took a slow, careful step backward to completely conceal myself behind a rusted metal boat trailer.
My foot landed squarely on a severely rotting floorboard, which snapped in half with a deafening, echoing crack.
