I pulled the blanket higher over him as the cold air brushed against me.
The flickering bulb of the gas station was struggling to keep the convenience store illuminated, much less the surroundings woods. The inky darkness made the hair on the back of my neck stand up.
Someone is watching, my instincts told me.
Rationality threatened to take over. No one is following you. You lost the tail days ago.
I held my son tighter.
The gas station attendant looked up as I entered, nodded in hello before turning back to his riveting motorcycle magazine. When I caught sight of the sultry images of women spread out like eagles and tigers on the vehicles, I covered my son’s eyes.
There wasn’t the widest selection of healthy foods, but I made do. Quick, easy meals that could be eaten immediately and didn’t go bad filled my basket, plus some brightly-colored candies my son grabbed off the shelves.
Nikolai didn’t fuss and cry like he had the first few gas station visits. He had grown used to them, even anticipated them. All day he had asked about the ‘gas saytion’ until I had agreed (in a state of irritation) to stop at the next one we passed.
It was a chance for him to stretch his legs, and, more importantly, cause some trouble. Even in my arms, he tried his hardest to get a reaction out of me, from swiping food off the shelves to stealing food from the basket and putting it in the freezer. I had to zip my purse so he wouldn’t put stuff in it. Much to his chagrin, I caught him every time.
When I went to pay, the attendant felt the need to start up a conversation.
“You just passing through?” he asked, peeling his eyes away from the magazine.
“Yes.” I grabbed Nikolai’s wrist before he could grab a candy bar.
The chatty attendant took his time scanning the items. “Not sure how safe it is to be out here traveling alone,” he said. “The woods here got a mind of their own.”
I rolled my eyes. “I’m sure they do.”
He only huffed and tallied up my total.
We were beginning to run low on cash. I had a solution, but it wasn’t very ethical, and I was already dreading it. But whatever it took to keep my son safe was something I would do.
As I watched the slow movements of the man in front of me, I thought perhaps this should be my first attempt. He would be an easy target; he was stupid and geographically miles from any law enforcement or help.
My eyes darted to the security camera positioned in the corner. It was dusty and old, but the flickering red light indicated it was alive and well.
Plus, there was the issue of my son. Nikolai didn't deserve to see his mother rob a store; besides, he would only be a distraction.
My plan to fill up the non-existent coffers faded into the wind as I noticed the obstacles, and we left the store. Outside had only grown colder and darker, with the woods surrounding us growing more frightening and looming as the night drew on.
"Mama," Nikolai whispered. "Who is that?"
I turned my head to where his little hand was pointing.
A second and third car had joined us at the empty gas station. Neither of them moved but instead sat deadly still in the middle of the road.
Blocking the exits.
I pressed a hand to Nikolai's head, holding him closer to me and hiding him from sight. It wasn't like they didn't know who he was or who he belonged to, but I didn't want Nikolai to see them. He deserved a few more hours of innocence–which was much more than anyone ever gave me.
Or ever gave his father.
"Shh," I murmured into his hair. "Quiet now, my wild boy."
Nikolai didn't speak but I felt his little body tighten in fear.
The cars remained stationary.
I could feel my brain furiously tumbling over ideas, looking for a solution. If I alerted the gas station attendant, it would force the enemies into action; plus it would take a while for the police to get out to us. And what good would a few country cops do against highly-trained soldiers of Titus herself?
A thought came to me suddenly. What if they weren't Titus's men...but Konstantin's?
There's no way, I quickly assured myself. Konstantin would've come and retrieved me himself. If he knew where I was.
I looked to my car. They had both blocked the exits and I didn't know the area well enough to endure a car race–especially with my two-and-half year-old son in the backseat.
In the window, I spotted Babushka lifting her head up. Her beady eyes took me in before she glanced out the rear-view mirror and took notice of the newcomers. Her bushy tail swayed irritably.
One of the car doors suddenly opened, revealing a fearsome man. He stepped out, legs like tree trunks, and called, “Come quietly, and we won't harm the boy.”
There's no fucking way, I thought.
“Let me get my cat,” I yelled back. “We can't leave the cat.”
I ventured slowly to my car.
“STOP!” he shouted. He ducked his head back into the car. I heard him discussing something with his unknown teammate, their voices and words muffled, before he looked back at me. “I'll grab the cat.”
“I don't think that's a good idea,” I said.
The man strode toward us and my entire body tightened. Poor Nikolai probably couldn't breathe in my grip, but I was relying only on my instincts now, and my instincts were screaming at me to protect my son.
“Don't move,” he growled, taking charge of this situation. One of Tatiana's smarter lackeys then.
The man tore open the car door–it was old enough that the locks had become use;ess–and stretched out a hand. "Come here, you stupid cat."
Babushka lunged.
Every cell in my body sparked, filling me up with fire and adrenaline, and I ran.
I didn't head for the store or the road or the car. I went straight for the woods. The dark green flora looked like something out of a Grimm's fairy tale, and here I was, the naive princess running straight into its embrace.
But I wasn't the princess; I was the witch.
Nikolai cried out in surprise as I took off. He clung to me tightly, his little head resting in the crook of my neck.
Men shouted from behind me and their footsteps grew louder over my shoulder, the earth giving way as they tore through it. Twigs snapped, leaves crunched, but I did not stop, did not even consider slowing my pace.
If they got us, they would kill us.
They would kill my son.
A leap over a log sent pain ricocheting through my knees to my back. I had lost the spriteness of my youth when I had given birth to Nikolai, and my muscles reminded me of this now.
I sucked it up, refusing to let it slow me.
Rationality took a hold of my brain. I wasn't going to be able to outrun these men, especially not Tree-trunk Legs.
I needed to hide.
Trees blurred as I pumped my legs, but a sharp left took me clatter skidding to the ground. I twisted, forcing my back to take the brunt of the fall, my grip on Nikolai not faltering for even a second. Air left my lungs and pain spurred through my ribs.
"Mama?" his little voice piped up in fear.
"Shh, shh." I dragged us to the side, tucking us under a log. The moist dirt soaked my jacket, and a stick of bark was jabbing into my back, but I didn't move.
Nikolai squirmed in my arms, but I held fast.
"Do not move,” I instructed.
The shouts of the men neared, and my son slackened in my grip. Their footfalls echoed through the earth as they bolted past us.