OLIVER KING
Nathan reached into a drawer, pulling out a handgun.
"You have a gun?" I blurted.
"It's our honeymoon," Vanessa said, as if that explained everything.
Charles returned fire through the broken window. "We need to move. Now."
Leo grabbed my arm. "Back door. Go."
We bolted.
The woods behind the cabin were thick, the moon barely piercing through the canopy. Branches whipped at my face as we ran, the sound of pursuit crashing through the underbrush behind us.
Vanessa, despite being barefoot and still wearing nothing but Nathan's shirt, was keeping pace like some kind of deranged woodland nymph. Nathan, to his credit, didn't even look winded.
"How far to the car?" Charles called.
"Too far," Leo answered. "They'll have the road blocked."
"Then where—?"
Vanessa skidded to a stop, pointing. "There."
A narrow, half-hidden trail led deeper into the trees.
"You've gotta be kidding me," Charles muttered.
"It's either that or stand here and get shot," Vanessa snapped.
