Paul chose instead to leave two boot prints heading the opposite direction, then run at a forty-five-degree angle to the right between the path and his original heading. The chances of the killers finding the misleading boot prints was slim at best, but he had to try something. Chances were they would spot him through the trees at any moment.
Even though he knew he hadn’t run very far, his lungs were screaming for air. His heart was pounding much harder than it should for such a short sprint. During his daily five-mile jogs back home he rarely even became winded until the second mile, but this was different. Of course, the concept of how much stress gunfire could place on the cardiovascular system had never crossed his mind.
If the killers were still shouting, Paul could no longer hear t
