You Only Die Twice - By Christopher Smith Page 0,44

ground for the goggles, found them, but before he could put them on, far off in the distance, just to his right, a bright flash of orange light lit the sky in such a way that Kenneth Berkowitz was certain that Satan himself had just arrived in these woods.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

The bear charged forward, Cheryl pressed her back against the tree in an effort to conceal herself, and was prepared to turn and run when instead, the bear ran past her.

Incredulous, she watched it lean away from the flames and trample through the woods in an effort to escape the death it otherwise would have faced.

She stood there, breathing hard, the smoke burning her lungs. The fire she set was in full blaze, ripping toward the sky, finding oxygen at its peak and flourishing because of it.

Flames ribboned around the base of trees and lit them faster than she anticipated. The heat, which she once welcomed because she was cold, now was almost too much to bear. She could feel it against her skin, tightening it to the point that she felt it no longer would fit her body. She needed to find a way out now or she’d be in trouble.

But which direction was best? Should she run left? Right? Which way would lead her to freedom? And if it didn’t lead her to freedom, which direction would at least lead her away from the fire as well as the man who was hunting her? Those were answers she didn’t know.

Or did she?

The bear went in that direction for a reason. The bear knew these woods better than she. Did it know a way out of them? Of course, it did. It was running in that direction to save itself. Nature and instinct had taken over. They sent that bear on that specific course for a reason.

Fleetingly, her father’s voice entered her head: “Respect the deer,” he once said to her during a hunt. “This is their home and they know it better than you do. If they hear you, they’ll cut through the brush so fast, you’ll never see them again. Or their friends. This is their habitat, not yours. They know where to hide and they know how to leave here. If you want to be successful as a hunter, being quiet and patient isn’t good enough. You need to understand that these woods belong to them and that they know them best.”

To her left, she heard movement, which had nothing to do with the rising sound of the heated wind, the fire or the trees it was destroying. Something was crunching through the brush. She raised a hand to shield her eyes from the brightness of the fire and saw two fox hurry into the clearing, glance up in concern at the flames, and then scurry in the same direction the bear went.

Though she couldn’t see them, all around her she knew that other animals were moving in a similar direction. They were fleeing the fire and they were choosing the same way out. If they had a choice, they wouldn’t go deeper into the forest. Instead, they would leave it and find shelter elsewhere.

Time was running out for her. Bits of fire were raining down from the tips of the trees and igniting the pine needs on the forest floor. If she didn’t get out of here fast, she’d have no way out.

She looked around and picked up a heavy stick to protect herself against him should she come upon him or some animal if, in its panic to escape, it decided to challenge her.

Her mind raced.

Somewhere around here there had to be a break in the woods. Whoever brought her here drove her here―he certainly didn’t carry her. There had to be a road or a path somewhere, which either would lead to an open field on the other side of it or to more woods. The animals might be drawn to the former, which would be a blessing. But they also might know of a large water source, in which they could plunge themselves and wait this out.

But that would only keep her here longer.

Regardless of where they were going, Cheryl had to follow. She stepped away from the protection the tree offered, felt the full brunt of the fire’s rage encompass her, and then lifted her white shirt over her nose and mouth so she could breathe.

She ran, keeping as far left of the fire as she could. Behind her, in the clearing