Finding Miranda

Ch. 20, Pt. 2 - THE HUNTED

AUTHORS'S NOTE:

Miranda and Shep narrowly escaped death in the car bombing that killed Pietro and Dave. Now they are on the run from thugs who want to eliminate any survivors.  It's late at night, and Minokee has no street lights.  Does this mean Shep has an advantage in the dark?  Or will he be able to cope without Dave at his side?

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"What?" Miranda was running as fast as she could in one flip-flop, but when they had crossed Shep's yard, the hedge, and her own back yard, she dug in her heels and pulled him to a stop. Panting, she told him, "I need shoes!"

She led him into her house and left him fidgeting in the living room. Dashing to her bedroom closet, she stamped into a pair of loafers at the same time she whipped a denim sundress off a hangar and over her head. She refused to run for her life wearing only her undies. Sure, Shepard couldn't see her, but there might be ambulance drivers, the police, the (ick!) undertaker. Not to mention the murderers sure to be pursuing them. She needed clothing and whatever dignity it afforded,

"Let's go!" she said, grabbed Shep's hand, and trotted out the door. Crossing her front yard, she asked, "Where to? My car!"

"No, they'd follow us. We'd be a teeny-weeny sitting duck in your clown car. Just run. Straight across the road from your front gate, turn left. Follow the edge of the asphalt for a hundred twenty-five paces. There's a deer trail into the Cypress."

She hesitated a half-second, then pulled him with her across the road. He took the lead as they turned left and counted steps. At the designated spot, he stopped and turned right. "See it?" he asked.

Night had settled down in the Little Cypress forest like a cat settling into a nap. Miranda took a step left, then right, before discerning a grayness amid the blackness. She stepped into the gray and found herself on a narrow dirt path through the dense undergrowth. "It's here!" she said.

He stepped past her to take the lead, and off they went into the scrub.

"You really know your way around in here?" she gasped, tripping over a thick strangler fig tendril. Shep lifted her one-handed before she hit the ground. He set her on her feet, steadied her, then resumed their trek.

"I've been exploring and camping and bird-watching in here every summer I can remember. Phyllis brought me. She said if I could learn to survive in here, I'd be fine anywhere."

Miranda felt him step over something and barely managed to get over the same log herself without scraping her shins, stubbing her toes, or falling flat on her face. "It's so dark in here!" she said.

"Bean, it's always dark—and not just in here," he said.

"Oh, yeah," she said. She followed him to the left and back again to the trail. He avoided a puddle. She drenched one foot in it. "Wait a minute! 'Bird-watching?' Seriously?"

Moonlight skittered across his white-toothed grin as they passed through openings between trees. "Thought you'd catch that one quicker. You must be distracted by something."

"Kinda," she panted, clenching his hand and trotting to keep pace as he dodged obstacles and ducked low branches. Then her foot plunged into a hole where solid ground should have been. She clamped one hand over her mouth to stifle her involuntary cry.

Shep froze. "What!?"

"I fell in a hole," she whispered, using his hand to pull herself out of the knee-deep, sandy trap. "Huge hole," she said, then squeaked, "It's not a snake hole is it!?"