The Hunt

Day 24 – Running for Their Lives

Dr. Evelyn Carter’s lungs burned as she sprinted through the trees, gunfire cracking behind her.

They had been spotted.

Now they were being hunted.

Branches whipped against her face, but she barely felt them. All that mattered was moving—fast, quiet, and without hesitation.

Because if they stopped?

They died.

Voss was ahead of her, moving with practiced precision, his rifle clutched in both hands.

Behind her, Samara and Maggie struggled to keep up, their breaths sharp and ragged.

Cross was falling behind. His knee—the same one that had slowed him for days—was betraying him now.

Evelyn glanced back—

Shit.

A militiaman broke through the trees, rifle raised—

Cross barely got his sidearm up in time.

BANG.

The gunshot echoed, and the man dropped, his body crashing through the underbrush.

Cross staggered, panting. "Keep—going!"

But the gunfire had given them away.

More shouts in the distance.

More footsteps.

And then—

A second shot rang out.

And this time, it wasn’t theirs.

Evelyn heard Cross jerk behind her.

Then—

He went down.

"Cross!" she hissed, dropping beside him.

His face twisted in pain, hands clutching his lower stomach where blood was spreading fast.

His lips moved, but no words came out.

Maggie fell to her knees, already pulling out her medical kit. "We have to stop the bleeding!"

But Voss—his expression grim—grabbed her arm.

"No time."

Evelyn’s stomach twisted.

They couldn’t stay.

But leaving Cross meant—

"Go," Cross muttered. His voice was weak.

Maggie shook her head. "We can carry you, we—"

Cross grabbed her wrist tight.

"No," he whispered. "You can’t."

His eyes locked onto Evelyn’s.

"You know that."

Evelyn’s chest tightened.

She did.

Because if they tried to carry him?

They’d all die.

But if they left him—

"Shit," Samara whispered, voice trembling.

Cross managed a pained smirk.

"Make it count, Carter."

Then he reached for his gun.

And turned toward the sound of approaching footsteps.

Evelyn forced herself to stand.

To turn away.

"Move," she said, her voice hard.

Maggie let out a quiet sob.

But she moved.

And they ran.

Behind them, Cross’s gun barked one last time.

Then—

Silence.

Evelyn didn’t look back.

Because if she did—

She wouldn’t be able to keep going.

They reached the edge of a steep ravine, a river rushing far below.

Voss didn’t hesitate.

"Climb down."

Samara gaped at him. "Are you insane?"

Voss’s expression was stone. "You wanna go back up there?"

Maggie wiped her tears, steeling herself. "He’s right. We have no choice."

Evelyn took a breath.

Then she grabbed onto the nearest tree root—

And climbed.

By the time they reached the riverbank, their arms and legs were scraped raw, their bodies aching.

But they were alive.

Evelyn sank onto the cold rocks, her heartbeat still racing.

Samara hugged her knees, staring blankly at the water.

Maggie sat silent, hands still trembling.

Voss stood at the edge of the bank, watching the forest above.

Evelyn knew what he was thinking.

Would they follow?

Would they search?

Or had Cross’s last stand bought them enough time to disappear?

She didn’t have an answer.

But one thing was clear.

The militia had claimed this land.

And now, they were on their hit list.