UnAlaska

40. Net Shed #3

Dmitry and Aleksandr sprinted hard into the edge of the forest. Slamming doors and blaring sirens rang out as the police at the roadblock heard the gunfire, closed the gap, and came to a stop by their van. They didn't know who the shooter was. It seemed to come from the other direction. From the white van that pulled across the road as a makeshift roadblock.

At this point, though, it didn't matter. The only thing on their minds was getting away clean. Getting distance between them and the cops. They dodged trees and ducked under branches. Their heavy boots crashed into the underbrush, crackling and crashing. The mossy ground was slick and matted from the driving rain. Their progress slowed when the trees became dense around them. The branches suffocated with their closeness. They vaulted over mossy, fallen logs and dodged between large trunks of fir and hemlock trees.

Behind them, they could hear the crash of branches and underbrush. Multiple sets of boots, driving hard and fast. The trees were flooded with a diffuse red, blue, and white strobe. Soon, multiple flashlight beams swept around them, like roving search lights.
The voices came closer. They echoed through the rainy woods. "Stop, police!"

The ground sloped gently downward. They fought through the trees, and came to an opening in the forest. As they looked ahead, they realized it was the bank of a small river. They glanced at each other, hesitating on their path.

"Jump in, and swim downstream. If they use dogs, it will confuse the scent," insisted Dmitry.

Aleksandr's eyes were wide as he stared at the river. "It's moving too fast. I can't do it."

"It's water. Get over it, Sasha."

"I can't."

Dmitry looked around. The flashlights and sounds were closing in quickly. He planted his feet and shoved Aleksandr hard on the back. Aleksandr sprawled face first into the river in a tangle of limbs. Dmitry jumped in behind him. The water gripped Dmitry in an icy shock, but he fought to swim downstream. The rapids obscured his vision. He was dashed against a large rock, and pulled his head above water to cry out in pain. He gasped for breath and continued swimming. After a moment, he found himself in a small eddy at the edge of the river. He pulled himself free of the water, which sluiced out of his sleeves and clothes. He blinked to clear his eyes, looked down, and saw Aleksandr's lifeless body resting face down in the shallow water.

He stood silently for a moment, considering his options. None of his options were good. He would be slowed down trying to carry Aleksandr any distance, and continuing his trek on foot in the middle of the night in this weather brought a risk of hypothermia. He started to call on his old compass-and-map orienteering classes. If he knew the direction of the river, and the location of the shoreline they had crashed on, he could find the fringes of the town. His thoughts were interrupted.

"Hands above your head! Where I can see them!" The voice was loud. To his surprise, it was a woman's voice. He turned slowly. She held a rifle, trained steadily at his chest. Her FBI windbreaker was oversized, and the rest of her clothing was in tatters.

He raised his hands slowly, and calmly. "How did you find me?"

She smiled. "I was close enough to hear two splashes. Not a huge leap to follow you downstream. Finding my way across was trickier."

He looked around slowly. There were no other officers. She saw his glance. "If you're thinking about running, don't. Backup is seconds away. And besides, look what running away from me got Pavel."

His eyes widened a fraction, betraying his calm mask. He smiled. "So that was you."

Laura nodded. Beyond Dmitry, she heard the crash of brush and saw a distant flashlight beam. A voice cried out, barely audible in the wind and rain. One of the Unalaska police officers, on the opposite bank. "You got one? Hold him there. Don't let him move a damn inch."