Chapter 3 - The Dirt Road
The heavy click of the detective's gun safety echoing in the dark car made my blood run cold.
I knew with absolute certainty that I was not going to make it out of these woods alive if I stayed in the backseat.
I leaned back, pulling my knees tight to my chest, and forcefully slid my handcuffed wrists under my feet.
It sent a blinding shot of pain through my shoulders, but I successfully moved my hands from my back to my front.
The detective opened his door and stepped out into the muddy, silent forest.
He walked slowly toward the rear passenger door, the beam of his flashlight cutting through the thick darkness.
As soon as his hand grasped the door handle, I threw myself backward against the opposite seat.
I kicked the door open with both feet, using every ounce of strength I possessed.
The heavy metal door slammed directly into the detective's face with a sickening crunch.
He groaned in massive pain, dropping his flashlight and stumbling backward into the wet dirt.
I scrambled out of the car, my socks instantly soaking in the freezing mud, and sprinted into the dense tree line.
"Get back here, you little brat!" the detective roared, firing a blind shot into the dark.
The bullet shattered a tree branch right next to my ear, showering my shoulder in sharp wooden splinters.
I ignored the pain and kept running, tearing through the heavy brush until my lungs burned for oxygen.
I hid behind a massive oak tree, covering my mouth with my cuffed hands to muffle the sound of my ragged breathing.
I could hear the detective marching angrily through the dead leaves, sweeping the area with his flashlight.
He was moving closer to my hiding spot, his heavy boots crushing the undergrowth.
I prayed for a miracle, squeezing my eyes shut as the flashlight beam washed over the trunk of my tree.
Suddenly, a loud, heavy thud echoed through the quiet forest, followed by the sound of a man collapsing.
I held my breath, waiting in the terrifying silence for several agonizing minutes.
"Honey, you can come out now," a familiar, shaky voice whispered through the dark.
I stepped out from behind the tree and gasped in pure shock.
Standing over the unconscious, bleeding detective was my grandmother.
She was holding a massive, rusted tire iron, and her old pickup truck was parked quietly on the main road just behind the trees.
"I followed him as soon as he turned off the highway," Grandma said, breathing heavily.
We quickly grabbed the detective's keys, unlocked my handcuffs, and used them to secure him to the steering wheel of his own cruiser.
I hugged Grandma tightly, completely overwhelmed by her bravery.
"We have to go get Leo right now," I said, my voice trembling with urgency.
We climbed into her rusted truck and sped back toward the city to save my baby brother.
But as we pulled onto my father's street, we saw something that shattered our remaining hope.
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Dad's driveway was completely empty, the front door was wide open, and the house was totally dark.
They had already packed up the baby and disappeared into the night.
