The road twisted and turned as Hayes navigated through the rugged terrain of the mountains. The tires crunched over gravel, the narrow path barely wide enough for their car as it climbed higher into the hills. The sun was beginning to set, casting long shadows over the dense forest. It was a treacherous route, but that's exactly what they needed—a place no one would expect them to hide.
Beside them, Wallace sat silently, his eyes scanning the road ahead. The weight of their situation hung heavy between them. The SUV chase had been too close, and they both knew Reed wouldn't stop until he either found them or destroyed them.
"He said the cabin's isolated, right?" Wallace asked, breaking the silence. His voice was low, but the tension in it was unmistakable.
Hayes nodded. "Yeah, the agent said it's off-grid. No cell service, no electricity. It's in the middle of nowhere."
"Good. That's what we need," Wallace replied, glancing at the bag of documents between them. "But if they track us here…"
"They won't," Hayes cut in, their voice firmer than they felt. "Not this far out. And if they do, we'll be ready."
The road grew steeper, the forest closing in around them like a dark curtain. The trees were tall and thick, their branches casting eerie shadows that flickered in the fading light. The sense of isolation was palpable—the kind of place where time seemed to stop, where the outside world couldn't reach.
Finally, after what felt like hours of driving, the car emerged into a small clearing. Ahead of them stood a weathered cabin, its wooden exterior worn by years of harsh mountain weather. It looked abandoned, with no sign of recent human activity. The perfect hideout.
Hayes parked the car and killed the engine. For a moment, they sat there in the fading light, listening to the sounds of the forest—wind rustling through the trees, the distant chirp of birds, and the occasional snap of a twig.
"This is it," Hayes said, opening the car door and stepping out into the cool mountain air. "Our new home for a while."
Wallace followed, his eyes scanning the perimeter as he instinctively reached for his gun. "It's quiet," he muttered. "Too quiet."
"That's the idea," Hayes replied, moving toward the cabin. The wooden steps creaked underfoot as they approached the door. Hayes gave it a firm push, and it swung open with a loud groan, revealing a dark, musty interior.
The cabin was barebones—just a single room with a small fireplace in the corner, a rickety table, and a few chairs that looked like they hadn't been used in years. Dust hung in the air, catching the last rays of sunlight that streamed in through the grimy windows.
"We can make this work," Hayes said, dropping their bag onto the table. "We'll clean it up, get a fire going. It's not much, but it'll keep us hidden."
Wallace didn't respond, his gaze still fixed on the treeline outside. Something about the quiet of the mountains unnerved him. It was too isolated, too vulnerable. If Reed's men found them here, there would be no escape. But they didn't have a choice. This was their only option.
"We should set up a perimeter," Wallace finally said, turning back to Hayes. "Just in case."
Hayes nodded. "Good idea. Let's get the place secure first, then we'll worry about food and supplies."
The next few hours were spent in a tense silence as they worked to settle in. Wallace scouted the surrounding area, ensuring there were no signs of recent activity. Hayes worked inside, lighting a fire and securing the windows and doors. The darkness outside grew thicker as night fell, and soon the only light came from the flickering flames in the hearth.
As they sat around the fire, the weight of everything that had happened over the past few days finally began to sink in. They were fugitives now, hiding from a man with unlimited resources and no conscience. Every decision they made from here on out had to be perfect, or it could be their last.
"We need a plan," Wallace said, breaking the heavy silence. He leaned forward, his face illuminated by the soft glow of the fire. "We can't just sit here and wait for the agent to call. Reed's not going to give us that kind of time."
Hayes rubbed their temples, feeling the exhaustion of the past few days catching up to them. "We're already pushing our luck. The more we move, the more we risk getting caught."
"I get that," Wallace replied, "but sitting still isn't going to help either. Reed's going to have eyes everywhere—he's probably got people searching the mountains already. We need to be proactive. Find out who else is working with him, gather more intel while we wait."
Hayes sighed. Wallace was right. They couldn't just hide forever. But every step forward felt like walking a tightrope, and the fall was fatal.
"We'll take shifts," Hayes said after a moment. "One of us keeps watch while the other sleeps. We'll figure out our next move in the morning."
Wallace nodded, standing up and grabbing his gun. "I'll take the first shift. Get some rest."
Hayes didn't argue, too tired to protest. They laid down near the fire, pulling their jacket tighter around them as the mountain chill crept into the cabin. The crackling of the fire and the distant rustle of the wind outside were the only sounds that filled the cabin. But even as their body begged for sleep, Hayes couldn't shake the feeling of eyes watching from the shadows beyond the treeline.
It was well past midnight when Hayes jolted awake. The fire had burned down to embers, casting an eerie red glow across the room. For a moment, they couldn't remember where they were—everything felt disorienting, like waking up in a nightmare.
Wallace stood at the window, his posture tense as he peered out into the darkness. Hayes could sense something was wrong immediately.
"What is it?" Hayes asked, their voice hushed.
"Thought I saw something," Wallace muttered, not taking his eyes off the trees. "Movement out there. Could be an animal, but…"
Hayes was on their feet in an instant, adrenaline kicking in. They moved quietly to the other side of the room, grabbing their gun from the table. The air inside the cabin felt thick with tension, and every creak of the wood seemed amplified in the silence.
For a long, agonizing moment, neither of them moved. The only sound was the wind outside, brushing through the leaves like a soft whisper. Then, there was a flash—a glint of something metal reflecting the moonlight just beyond the treeline.
"There," Wallace hissed, pointing.
Hayes' heart pounded in their chest. "How many?"
Wallace shook his head. "Can't tell. But we're not alone."
The realization hit Hayes like a punch to the gut. Reed's men had found them. They were out here, watching, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.
"We need to move," Hayes whispered, their mind racing. "If they've found us, we're sitting ducks."
Wallace nodded, already moving to gather their things. "Back exit. We take the car and head for the next safe location."
But as they prepared to slip out of the cabin, the faint sound of footsteps crunching on gravel reached their ears. The men outside were closing in, their movements slow and methodical, like predators stalking their prey.
Hayes looked at Wallace, their eyes wide with understanding. They didn't have much time. Reed's men were coming—and this time, they wouldn't be giving them a second chance.