Rick Mofina - Every Second

“Why?”

“I had an exchange with a trooper there and I think he suspects something was up. We have to take Red Hawk Way before they seal it at the extreme end.”

“How far do we have to go to get out?”

“Another ten or twelve miles will bring us to the state route. Then we should be out and clear. We’ll take a longer way to New York City, but we’ll get there, brothers.”

Jerricko exhaled deeply, moving closer to the windshield to look up as a helicopter passed overhead.

“We’ll do whatever you have to do to get out.”

The five men had gone about five or six miles when they came to a short stretch of road with a large Adirondack cabin clinging to the roadside. The rooftop sign identified it as Jenny’s Mountain Gas & Diner.

It had a two-pump gas island out front. A few lonely cars and pickup trucks dotted the parking lot.

“No cops,” Cutty said when they passed. “That’s good.”

During the next few miles, clicking sounds filled the interior as some of the team checked their handguns. Jerricko was using an earpiece to watch their martyrdom videos, his heart bursting with pride.

We’ll give our lives for the glory of God. We’ll bring swift justice against the nonbelievers.

As they rounded a sharp, narrow bend, Ghorbani slowed reflexively upon spotting an oncoming tour bus. Air brakes hissed and the grind of diesel growled as the bus whizzed by in the opposite direction. The SUV shuddered in the wake.

“Not much room on these roads.”

Other than the bus and a few cars, they hadn’t encountered much traffic, and, with the exception of the faint sounds of aircraft, there was little activity. The team grew optimistic that it was the fringe of the search.

“We should be hitting the state route intersection any minute now, then we’ll be clear for sure.”

Ghorbani suddenly came to a full stop.

Emergency lights pulsated several hundred yards in the distance, where Red Hawk Way met the state road. Several police vehicles were moving into position and blocking the intersection.

“Dammit,” Ghorbani said.

“Is that for us?” Jerricko asked.

“Could be, or it could be they’re expanding the search boundaries.”

“Can’t we just drive through? If they stop you, say we’re with you and you’re taking us to another checkpoint.”

Ghorbani shook his head. “Too risky, given what happened at the last checkpoint.”

“Well, we can’t sit here!”

Eyeing his rearview mirror, Ghorbani backed up slowly until the SUV dropped out of sight behind a rise. Then he wheeled around hard, accelerating in the opposite direction. Eyeballing his mirrors, he dragged the back of his hand over his mouth.

“I’ve got an idea that will get us out.”

Coyote Mountains, New York

Strobic took big strides as they hiked deeper into the woods.

Kate had no trouble keeping up with him because she ran three times a week and used hotel treadmills whenever she was on the road.

They moved well together, covering a lot of ground as the forest rose high around them, cutting them off from the world. Hours before, Kate was working in one of the world’s largest cities. Now she was isolated in this enormous wilderness.

She wondered if they would encounter searchers or police. She was then consumed with the terrifying possibility the fugitives were out there, watching them, taking aim at their glowing vests.

The dull roar of a river distracted her.

“That’s the Bearfoot,” Strobic said, raising his voice over the rush. “We want to follow it north, this way.”

They walked along the cliff that twisted some twenty feet above the water. Kate thought the river was beautiful, its rapids and rocks breaking the surface and creating powerful spouts and rainbowed curtains of white water.

What a pretty and lonely place to die, she thought, thinking of the Fultons.

Strobic and Kate’s progress slowed when they reached a perilous section of water-slicked ledges. That area evolved into a rugged stretch of craggy formations. As they emerged, Kate glanced downriver and gasped. Through a screen of leaves she’d spotted small dollops of color.

She tapped Strobic’s shoulder and pointed.

They stopped. He took out his long lens, found a steady position on a tree branch and focused.

“Amazing!”

He showed Kate, who squinted behind the viewfinder to distinguish the details of a head, an arm…another head.

“I don’t believe it!”

But it was true.

There, about seventy-five yards downstream, a woman and boy were lying in an eddy. Kate and Strobic covered the distance between them so fast she barely remembered traversing it as they navigated their way down the cliff side to the riverbank below.

Kate knelt beside them.

The woman was bloodied and moaning. The boy’s lips were blue, his skin was white. His head was bleeding. He was unconscious but breathing. Both had makeshift bandages around their wounds.

“Hang on!” Kate said. “We’re going to help you!”

She had first-aid training and did what she could. With Strobic’s help they first moved them from the water to dry land. Then Kate yanked off her vest and jacket.

“Give me your vest and shirt, Stan! We’ve got to keep them warm!”

Kate pulled off the woman’s and boy’s wet clothes and wrapped them with the dry garments.

Strobic reached into his bag for a small radio.

“What’s that?” Kate asked.

“A PLB!”

“A what?”

“A Personal Locator Beacon. I’ve just activated it. It’s got GPS and sends out a signal. The search team should pick it up and come to us!”

The woman groaned and Kate leaned closer.

“Help’s coming!” Kate took the woman’s hand. “Are you Lori and Billy Fulton?”

The woman squeezed Kate’s hand.

“You’re safe now, Lori. Help’s coming!”

“Stop…them…must…stop them…”

“Police are taking care of it,” Kate assured her.

“They killed…husband…shot Dan… Murderers…going to attack…stop them…killed… Dan…he’s dead…”

Kate shook her head. “No, Lori! Dan’s alive! He’s hurt but they found him! He’s in the hospital.”

Lori squeezed Kate’s hand, hard. Her eyes flicked open to Kate.

At that moment, they heard the approaching thump of a helicopter.

Coyote Mountains, New York

Ghorbani’s knuckles whitened on the wheel as he drove.

Reeling from the deteriorating situation, he faced the terrible truth: his plan wouldn’t work. Anything he tried at this point would be a risk.

At MIT he was considered a genius. Yet, here he was, at a loss with so much at stake. But he wouldn’t give up because he’d always believed that for every problem, a solution existed for those who sought it.

“What are we going to do? What’s your idea?” Jerricko asked.

“I’m thinking! Let me work it out.”

“We don’t have time! We need to do something now.”

Ghorbani racked his brains for another option and continued praying with each passing mile. When they came back upon Jenny’s Mountain Gas & Diner, the answer revealed itself to him in the form of the Canadian Travel-Ride tour bus that was parked at one side of the lot.

The same bus they’d seen earlier.

It’s dangerous, but it could work.

Ghorbani pulled into a far end of the parking lot, turned off the car, popped the hood and got out.

As he looked at the engine, the others joined him, puzzled.

“Come on, Ghorbani! What’re we doing, stopping for tea?”

“Listen to me, here’s what we’re going to do…”