CHAPTER 19
ISABELLE
The screeching of the tires is still echoing in my ears when I make it to the tree line, but I can barely hear it—the pain in my ankle is excruciating. I tucked and rolled, I tried to stay off the asphalt, but leaping from a moving vehicle onto the gravel shoulder hurts like a b***h. The pads of my feet are raw and stinging, probably covered in road rash. I imagine I’m leaving bloody footprints that they’ll follow like a trail through the woods.
“Hey!” Shouting, they’re shouting at my back. I run, skirting the pines and the brush, thorns snagging my bare flesh. Did I have to be f*****g naked? Time to woman up, Isabelle. A few scratches will heal, a broken ankle will, too, but I’m less confident about my ability to fix a bullet in my brain.
The darkness intensifies a
