Windridge Notes

Chapter 10 | Wilderness

W I L D E R N E S S

. . .

The road stretched out endlessly before us, disappearing into the dark horizon.

The headlights of Lori's car cut through the night, illuminating only the immediate stretch of asphalt ahead. The world around us was shrouded in darkness. The quiet hum of the engine is the only sound breaking the heavy silence.

We'd been driving for hours, putting as much distance between ourselves and Windridge as possible, but no matter how far we went, I couldn't shake the feeling that we were being followed. It felt like the secrets we carried were right there with us, sitting heavy in the backseat.

I stared out the window, my mind a tangled mess of everything that had happened. Liam's death. The fire. The smuggling operation. The documents we'd found in the barn. It was all so overwhelming, and the weight of it was crushing. I felt like we were trapped in some twisted game where the rules kept changing, and no matter what we did, we were always a step behind.

Beside me, Lori gripped the steering wheel tightly, her knuckles white with tension. She hadn't said much since we left Windridge, and I could sense the storm of emotions brewing inside her. I wanted to reach out, to tell her that everything would be okay, but the words felt hollow. How could I promise that when I didn't even know if we'd make it through the night?

The silence was starting to feel unbearable when Lori finally broke it. Her voice was soft but strained, the weight of our situation pressing down on her just as much as it was on me. "We need to figure out our next move, Owen. We can't keep driving forever."

I nodded, though I didn't have an answer. The exhaustion was catching up to me—both physical and emotional. The adrenaline that had kept me going for the past few days was wearing thin, and I could feel my mind fraying at the edges. "Jameson said he had a contact in the city. Maybe we should go there first, regroup, and figure out what to do next."

Lori glanced at me, her eyes reflecting the same uncertainty I felt. "And then what? Do we just hand over the documents and hope for the best? What if it's not enough? What if they find us before we can do anything?"

Her fears echoed my own. The possibility that we'd be caught before we had a chance to expose the truth gnawed at me, a constant, suffocating dread.

I didn't have an answer for her. I wished I could tell her everything would work out, that we were doing the right thing, but I couldn't. I was just as scared as she was.

"I don't know," I admitted, my voice heavy with fatigue. "But we have to keep moving forward. If we stop now, everything we've done will be for nothing. We owe it to Liam to see this through."

Lori nodded, though the tension in her shoulders didn't ease. "You're right. We can't turn back now."

Her words hung in the air, a reminder of the point of no return we had crossed. There was no going back. The city lights were still far off in the distance, but every mile felt like it was pulling us deeper into the unknown.

. . .

By the time we reached the city, the first light of dawn was creeping over the horizon. The tall buildings loomed ahead, casting long shadows against the pale sky. The city was waking up, but for us, the day felt far from over.

If anything, it felt like we were just getting started.

Jameson's contact, Carter, was a former investigative journalist who had spent years exposing corruption in small towns and villages like Windridge. He'd gone underground after receiving threats from people who didn't like their dirty laundry aired, but Jameson had assured us he could help.