Chapter 10
The loud roar of the semi-truck's diesel engine provided a comforting, rhythmic hum as they sped south along Inter-state 5 toward the California border.
Tessa sat in the passenger seat, wrapped in a thick wool blanket the kind driver, named Hank, had handed her from his sleeper berth.
Maisie was fast asleep on Tessa’s lap, her breathing deep and even for the first time in twenty-four terrifying hours.
Outside the fogged windows, the dense, dark forests of northern California began to replace the terrifying pines of Pine Ridge.
"You want me to stop at the next state police barracks, ma'am?" Hank asked, eyeing her bruised face through his rear-view mirror.
"No," Tessa answered instantly, her voice rough and cracked from crying and smoke inhalation. "No police."
"Look, lady, I don't mean to pry," Hank said, adjusting his grip on the large steering wheel. "But you've got blood on your clothes, and that kid looks like she's been through hell."
"My husband's family is very powerful in Oregon," Tessa explained quietly, looking out at the passing highway markers. "The local police belong to them."
Hank grunted softly, nodding his head in silent understanding as a man who had seen his fair share of corrupt small towns.
"Fair enough," Hank said. "I'm taking this load of timber all the way down to Sacramento. I can drop you off at the Greyhound station there."
"Thank you, Hank. I'll never be able to repay you," Tessa whispered sincerely.
She reached into her back pocket, pulling out her damp wallet to check her small savings—a hundred and forty dollars in cash and two credit cards.
She knew she couldn't use the credit cards; Evan or Sheriff Miller could easily track her location through bank transactions.
She was completely off the grid now, a fugitive mother running from a nightmare that sounded too insane for any normal person to believe.
Tessa looked down at Maisie, gently brushing a strand of blond hair away from the small cut on her forehead.
The physical wound was healing, but Tessa knew the emotional and psychological scars would remain forever.
Suddenly, Maisie stirred in her sleep, her tiny body twitching as she let out a low, unsettling sigh.
"Mommy?" Maisie murmured, her eyes still tightly closed in deep sleep.
"I'm right here, sweetie," Tessa whispered, bending down to kiss her cheek.
"Daddy is driving behind us," Maisie said clearly, her voice sounding cold, flat, and completely devoid of childish innocence.
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Tessa’s blood ran ice-cold instantly as she looked back into the side mirror of the massive truck.
Far behind them on the dark, empty highway, a single set of headlights was gaining on the semi-truck at an alarming speed.
