The driver’s seat was empty. Where the hell is he?!
The trees packed close around her. Their branches unknowingly poked and scratched at her. How the car managed to go so far into the woods without having been stopped by one of these trees early on was a miracle; or a curse in Rachel’s case. Her view of the road behind her was almost swallowed up now. Her spine felt petrified as she inched her way closer to the car.
Her mind was definitely not cooperating now, screaming at her that not two or three feet away, any one of these trees could be hiding something.
I can’t waste time, for Chace’s sake. Rachel forced her stiff legs to bring her to the left side of the car where she could see outlines of Chace’s leather coat.
She opened the door, her breathing suddenly more difficult.
She heard something.
Rachel spun around, eyes wide. The flashlight danced along with the spasm of her hand as she attempted to light up as much of the veiled clearing as possible.
She waited a moment, still. Her eyes darted along with the flashlights direction, strained. I’m going to need a drink after this, she huffed and slowly kneeled to get a better view of Chace. She noticed his coat rise and fall in a stuttered rhythm.
“Not good.” she muttered aloud into the dark. Her voice seemed distant, unnerving and dry.
Rachel unclasped the medical kit and was about to pull on a pair of gloves.
Except she glanced at the boy past Chace. And stopped.
It was Miles, slumped and unconscious.
Rachel felt a scream build up in the back of her throat as her vision snapped from Chace to Miles, frantically.
Only then she noted that Chace’s jacket was unzipped, and hiding quietly beneath its folds,
was an arm, resting in a sling.
Her eyes fell finally upon Chace’s ski mask.
Black eyes met her gaze. Eyes that have been calmly watching her the entire time.
Rachel barley managed to scream before her world blacked out.