When All is Lost

Chapter 9

One second I was on my feet and the next I was on the ground, sending the spare backpacks flying out of my arms. I landed so hard on my butt that I felt shockwaves of pain all the way up my spine. I tried to wiggle forward, but whoever was behind me still had a tight hold on my backpack.

"Hold still." The man grunted as he gave my bag a hard tug and began to drag me backwards. My head fell back and knocked into his kneecap. His response was to drag me even farther until I was practically laying down. With my panic rising, I tried to wiggle free of my backpack but that ended with a hard slap to the side of my head that left my right ear ringing.

"Hurry up! I got one," he shouted. It was difficult to even think through the shroud of fear that fogged my mind, so it took me a second to fully process what he said.

He just called for help.

That meant he was alone. That meant I still had a chance.

With a new burst of energy, I hurled myself forward before rocking back. Like I had hoped, the move set him off balance and he lost his grip on my backpack.

"Kate!" I wasn't sure whose voice it was, but it distracted me for that necessary second. I hesitated for a single moment and that was enough for the man to regain his grip.

Knowing I was running out of time, I reached behind me with my free hand and clawed at his hand while I readjusted my grip on my screwdriver with my other. The man's response was to go from holding my bag with one hand to two hands. He gave my bag such a hard yank that I lost my grip on my tiny screwdriver and had to stop clawing at him so I could attempt to snatch it back. My fingers felt blindly for where I might have dropped it. Just as my pinky grazed it, he yanked me again but this time he managed to drag me across a foot of pavement.

I kicked out my feet and used both of my hands to scratch at his, but no matter how much I wiggled and clawed, he was still making leeway. That was until a hand slapped down on one of my ankles. I gasped and looked up to meet Abby's round eyes. She held my ankle firmly in her hands, her lips pursed in determination.

As I opened my mouth the tell her to pass me her makeshift club, I caught movement from the side of my eye. The thuds of a single pair of feet on the road were the only warning I had before the man holding my bag released me with a yelp. It took me a second to realize someone was on top of him. The man had been tackled to the ground.

"Go!" Ian yelled.

I didn't hesitate this time. I scrambled away from the scrap and crawled a few feet forward until I found my screwdriver. Abby helped me to my feet just as Mark and Owen arrived. Owen quickly jumped in to help Ian. I turned to help too, but Mark shoved both me and Abby into the row between the cars, making us run with him.

"They're going to hide behind the cars!"

Shit.

That was definitely not any voice I knew. We were being chased and as much as I wanted to go back and help Ian and Owen, we had to keep moving.

We didn't stop, with Abby in the lead we zipped in and around cars. The side of my face throbbed from the earlier hit and the longer we ran the more my lungs burned, but I made myself keep taking one step after another. Any time I slowed down, Mark would give me a little push, reminding me that he was directly behind me and that much closer to our pursuers.

After more blocks than I was willing to think about, the sounds of shouting and footfalls drifted off. I was more than happy to believe that the people chasing us had given up if that meant we could rest. At the very least, I could swallow down the rising sensation of vomit.

Gasping for breath, Mark spoke up before I had the chance. "We... They... I think... we... we're okay."

Abby ran a few more steps before coming to a stop. She turned to face us as she wiped the sweat from her brow. Other than her frizzy hair looking particularly wild, I was sure she had to be looking better than me and Mark.