The cruiser door slammed shut—THUD—sealing me inside a space that smelled like vinyl, sweat, and old coffee.
My hands shook violently in my lap. Adrenaline still burned through me, hot and relentless, refusing to fade.
Serafin stood outside with one of the officers, his voice low but urgent. I couldn't hear everything they said, just fragments carried through the glass.
"…men in plain clothes…"
"…no plates…"
"…she's been threatened for hours…"
The other officer leaned into the open window on my side. "Ma'am, are you injured?"
"My ribs," I said hoarsely. "I think. Everything hurts."
He nodded once. "Paramedics are on the way."
The radio crackled—KRRSHH—static bursting to life."Unit Twelve, status check."
"Two civilians," the officer replied. "Possible attempted abduction."
My stomach twisted at the word.
Attempted.
It sounded so small compared to what it felt like.
The officer glanced back toward the treeline. "You see who came after you?"
"No," I said. "That's the problem. They don't want to be seen."
Serafin opened the door suddenly and crouched beside me. "You okay?"
I nodded, then shook my head. "I don't know."
He swallowed hard. "They're calling it in. Roadblocks, maybe."
"Maybe," I echoed.
His eyes searched my face. "They won't separate us."
I wanted to believe him.
A paramedic van pulled up—WEE-OO—lights flashing, tires crunching over gravel. The world felt too loud all at once. Every sound scraped against my nerves.
As they checked me over—cold fingers, gentle pressure—I heard one of the officers speaking again, quieter now.
"…no warrants…"
"…nothing official…"
"…could be personal dispute…"
I snapped my head up. "It's not personal."
The officer looked startled. "Ma'am?"
"They're organized," I said, forcing the words out. "They know where I go before I get there. They knew the motel. They knew the room."
Silence followed.
Serafin's jaw tightened. "She's been tracked since this morning."
The officer exchanged a look with his partner. "We'll escort you to the substation."
Escort.
Not protect.
I caught Serafin's eye. "They won't stop just because there's a badge."
"I know," he said softly. "But it buys time."
Time. Another currency I was rapidly running out of.
They moved us into separate vehicles.
When they closed the door between me and Serafin—CLICK—panic surged sharp and immediate.
"Hey," I said, louder than I meant to. "Don't separate us."
The officer hesitated. "Procedure."
Serafin stepped in. "She's already been targeted. You split us up, you make it easier."
A beat.
Finally, the officer nodded. "Fine. Same car."
Relief hit me so hard my vision blurred.
We pulled onto the road—VROOOOM—sirens off but lights still flashing. The countryside slipped by, deceptively calm. Green fields. Empty roads. Too much space to hide in.
The radio crackled again—KRRSHH—dispatcher's voice tense."Unit Twelve, reports of an unregistered vehicle circling near Mile Marker Seven."
The officer muttered under his breath. "That's behind us."
Serafin's hand brushed mine. "They're still close."
I stared straight ahead. "They're testing response time."
The cruiser turned onto a narrower road—hiss—tires hugging curves. Trees closed in again, familiar now in the worst way.
"Why won't they just grab me?" I asked suddenly.
Serafin didn't answer right away.
The officer glanced back at us. "Because this isn't just about you."
I met his eyes in the rearview mirror. "Then what is it about?"
He hesitated. "Power."
My phone buzzed—bzzzzt—soft but unmistakable.
The officer stiffened. "You're getting calls?"
"Yes," I said. "They don't stop."
Another buzz.
Then a text.
Being seen won't save you.
Serafin swore quietly. "They know you're with police."
I typed back before anyone could stop me.
Then what do you want?
The reply came instantly.
Compliance.
My throat tightened. "They want me to recant."
The officer frowned. "Recant what?"
Serafin answered for me. "A statement that hasn't been filed yet."
That got their attention.
The cruiser slowed suddenly—SCREECH—brakes biting hard.
"What the hell?" I gasped.
Ahead of us, a fallen tree blocked half the road. Fresh. Leaves still green.
"That wasn't there this morning," the officer muttered.
Another car appeared behind us—VROOOOM—too fast, too close.
"Stay calm," the officer said, hand going to his weapon.
The radio crackled wildly—KRRRSHH—then went dead.
The engine behind us revved—VROOOOM—pressing closer.
"They boxed us," Serafin said flatly.
My phone vibrated again—BZZZT—a final message lighting the screen.
Now you choose who gets hurt next.
My pulse roared in my ears.
The officer reached for the radio again. "Dispatch, we need—"
Static.
The car behind us lurched forward—BANG—slamming into the cruiser.
I screamed as we were thrown forward, seatbelt biting into my chest.
"Everyone okay?" the officer shouted.
Serafin nodded once. "Yes."
The officer's face hardened. "Get ready."
The engine behind us revved again—VROOOOM—closer now, more aggressive.
I stared at the roadblock ahead, at the trees hemming us in, at the phone vibrating uselessly in my hand.
There was no silence left to hide in.
No distance left to run.
Only choices—and consequences already in motion.
And as the cruiser shuddered under another impact—CRASH—
I knew, with terrifying certainty, that whatever happened next would make everything before this feel like a warning shot.