Chapter 7: The Highway Run
The glare of high beams cut through the sheet metal of my tailgate, bouncing blindingly off my rearview mirror. I gripped the steering wheel, my knuckles whitening against the cracked vinyl. Behind us, Richard’s private security detail was pushing a pair of heavy-duty black SUVs right up to our bumper, their diesel engines roaring over the hum of my truck's overworked transmission.
"Hold on!" I shouted over the din, downshifting hard as we approached the sharp, unpaved curve leading into the old timberline.
The truck fishtailed on the slick gravel, the rear tires catching the edge of a rain-swollen ditch before biting into the dirt. In the passenger seat, Eleanor didn't scream or panic. She braced her right hand against the dashboard, her eyes fixed steadily on the dark canopy of pine trees swallowing the narrow county road ahead. In the extended cab behind us, Lily shifted in her sleep, exhausted by the endless miles, cradled safely against a spare wool blanket.
"They're gaining on the left!" Eleanor called out, her voice remarkably even despite the violent sway of the cabin.
I glanced in the mirror. The leading SUV lunged forward, its front bumper edging past our rear quarter panel, trying to pit-maneuver us into the ravine. Richard wasn't just sending a message anymore; he was trying to bury the ledgers permanently before Marcus could upload them to the wire services.
"Not tonight," I muttered.
I cut the wheel hard to the right, slamming our side-molding directly into the heavy steel brush guard of the pursuer. The screech of tearing metal and grinding rubber filled the wet night air. The driver of the SUV, startled by the aggressive counter-maneuver, overcorrected and slid sideways into a dense thicket of blackberry bushes, blocking the narrow track behind us. The second vehicle slammed on its brakes to avoid a collision, its headlights spinning wildly into the brush.
We crested the ridge and plunged down the winding logging trail toward the safety of my father's old timber cabin, leaving the flashing red tail-lights and shouts of our pursuers fading into the distant rain.
The cabin was tucked deep inside the state forest, completely off the grid and invisible from the main highway. When I cut the engine, the sudden silence inside the truck was deafening, broken only by the rhythmic ticking of the cooling exhaust pipe and the steady patter of rain against the cedar-shingle roof.
Eleanor exhaled a long, slow breath, resting her forehead briefly against the cool glass of the passenger window before turning back to look at me. "You didn't have to ram them, James. That could have gone sideways fast."
"If we let them crowd us off the road, the ledgers go to the bottom of the ravine, and Richard wins," I said, reaching across the console to switch off the dash lights. "We're past playing defense. They know we have the files. Now it's a race to see whose truth gets told first."
Eleanor nodded, unlatching her seatbelt and reaching back to stroke Lily's dark hair. The little girl murmured softly in her sleep, completely unaware that the foundation of her father's glittering empire was crumbling beneath our feet. We carried Lily inside the dark, wood-scented cabin, laying her gently on the cot in the small back room before sitting down at the heavy oak kitchen table with Marcus's flash drive resting between us like a loaded weapon.
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"Marcus called before we lost cell service in the valley," Eleanor said quietly, the glow of the single battery-powered lantern catching the sharp lines of her face. "He said the editorial board is already reviewing the scans. By sunrise, the story goes live."
"Then we wait," I said, sliding a cup of black coffee across the table toward her. "And when the sun comes up, we finish this."
