Chapter 8 - The Hunted Hunter
The terrifying realization that a desperate man was armed with military-grade firepower changed everything instantly.
Agent Jenkins immediately ordered her troopers to form a tight, defensive perimeter around us.
"Get the medical kit and check her vitals," Sarah commanded, pointing to my motionless mother.
A combat medic knelt beside Mom in the mud, quickly administering an injection to counteract the heavy sedatives.
I stood up, ignoring the freezing rain beating aggressively against my face.
"Daniel knows these woods better than anyone," I warned the tactical team quietly.
"We used to play survival games in this exact forest when we were kids."
"He won't run away; his massive ego won't allow him to lose to his little sister."
A sudden, deafening gunshot echoed from the dense tree line.
The bullet shattered the side mirror of the armored command vehicle just inches from Sarah’s head.
"Contact right!" a trooper shouted, raising his weapon and returning suppressive fire into the darkness.
I dragged my slowly waking mother behind the heavy engine block of the nearest cruiser.
"Claire?" Mom mumbled weakly, her eyes fluttering open in absolute confusion.
"It's okay, Mom, I am right here," I whispered, shielding her fragile body with my own.
"Where is Daniel?" she asked, tears mixing with the cold rain on her cheeks.
Before I could answer, a second shot rang out, blowing out the tire of the vehicle hiding us.
Daniel was aggressively maneuvering through the trees, changing positions like a trained guerilla fighter.
He was trying to force us into a bottleneck near the edge of the rising river.
I knew that heavily armored troopers moving blindly through the dark woods would be sitting ducks.
"Sarah, give me a thermal scope and a radio," I demanded, holding out my hand.
"I am going out there to flank him."
Sarah glared at me through the pouring rain, clearly wanting to refuse the risky request.
But she understood that my intimate knowledge of the terrain was our only tactical advantage.
She tossed me an earpiece and an advanced thermal optic device.
"You have ten minutes before I call in an air strike to level that entire tree line," she warned grimly.
I nodded, slipping silently into the freezing brush and moving opposite to Daniel's gunfire.
I crawled through the thick, thorny undergrowth, relying entirely on my childhood memories of the hidden trails.
I finally spotted the glowing red heat signature of a human figure hiding behind a massive boulder.
I crept up slowly behind him, raising my sidearm with deadly, unwavering precision.
"It is completely over, Daniel," I announced, my voice cutting cleanly through the sound of the rain.
The figure slowly turned around, dropping the heavy assault rifle into the mud.
But it wasn't my brother standing there in the darkness.
It was the corrupt Sheriff Miller, completely bound and gagged, with Daniel's jacket forced over his head.
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I heard the distinct, terrifying click of a rifle safety disengaging from the high branch of the tree directly above me.
"You were always so painfully predictable, Claire," Daniel whispered from the dark canopy.
