The forest was a blur of shadows and sound as Luca and Maria raced through the underbrush. The distant shouts of Franco's men echoed in the night, growing fainter with every step, but Luca knew they weren't safe yet. Franco's soldiers knew these woods as well as they did, and it wouldn't take long for them to regroup and resume the hunt.
Luca's breath came in ragged gasps as he pushed through the thick foliage, branches tearing at his clothes and skin. Maria followed close behind, her footfalls light and sure despite the chaos. They hadn't spoken since they left the train tracks, their focus entirely on staying ahead of the enemy.
Ahead of them, the trees began to thin, and Luca could hear the faint sound of rushing water— the river. Relief surged through him. If they could reach it, they might have a chance to lose Franco's men and make it to Rome. But the weight of the night's events still pressed heavily on him. Marco had the ledger, but he was alone and running in the opposite direction. The plan had fractured in ways Luca hadn't anticipated.
Suddenly, Maria grabbed his arm, pulling him to a stop. She pointed ahead, where the moonlight filtered through the trees, casting an eerie glow on the riverbank. Luca squinted, his heart pounding, and saw movement—a figure crouched near the water's edge.
He instinctively reached for his pistol, but Maria stopped him with a shake of her head. "Wait."
The figure moved cautiously, their back turned to Luca and Maria. In the darkness, it was impossible to tell if they were friend or foe. Luca's pulse quickened. It could be one of Franco's men, scouting the area ahead of the others. If that were the case, they needed to eliminate the threat before more arrived.
But then, the figure turned slightly, and Luca caught a glimpse of a familiar profile.
"Marco," Maria whispered, relief evident in her voice.
They rushed toward him, keeping low to avoid detection. Marco looked up as they approached, his face pale and drawn, but his eyes sharp with determination. The ledger was clutched tightly in his arms, the pages still intact despite the chaos of their escape.
"I made it," Marco panted, his chest heaving. "But they're right behind me. We need to move. Now."
Luca nodded, his mind racing. They had a slim lead, but Franco's men would be closing in fast. The river offered their best chance of escape, but crossing it would be treacherous. The current was strong, swollen from recent rains, and the water was ice-cold. If they weren't careful, it could sweep them away.
"Follow the river south," Luca instructed, glancing at the water. "There's a bridge about a mile downstream. We can cross there and head toward the village. If we keep to the forest, we can stay ahead of them."
Maria nodded, her eyes scanning the trees for any sign of movement. "Let's go."
They moved quickly along the riverbank, the rushing water masking the sound of their footsteps. The forest on either side of them was thick and overgrown, offering cover from prying eyes but also making their progress slower. Every rustle of leaves, every crack of a twig set Luca's nerves on edge. Franco's men were close—too close.
As they rounded a bend in the river, the bridge came into view—a narrow, rickety structure made of old wooden planks and rusted metal supports. It looked like it had seen better days, but it was their only option.
Marco hesitated, eyeing the bridge warily. "That thing doesn't look safe."
"It's not," Luca agreed, "but we don't have a choice."
One by one, they crossed the bridge, the wooden planks creaking under their weight. Luca went last, his eyes constantly scanning the tree line for any sign of pursuit. He could feel the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end, a sixth sense warning him that danger was near.
Just as Luca reached the center of the bridge, a shot rang out.
The bullet whizzed past his head, embedding itself in the wood with a sickening crack. Luca ducked instinctively, his heart pounding in his chest. He looked back toward the far side of the river and saw Franco's men emerging from the trees, rifles raised, their eyes locked on him.
"Run!" Luca shouted, his voice barely audible over the roar of the river.
Maria and Marco were already on the other side, sprinting toward the cover of the forest. Luca bolted after them, his feet pounding against the unsteady planks as bullets ricocheted around him. The bridge groaned under the weight of the gunfire, the wood splintering and cracking beneath him.
Just as Luca reached the end of the bridge, a deafening crack split the air. He glanced back and saw the center of the bridge collapse into the river, the wooden planks snapping like twigs as the structure gave way.
Franco's men stopped at the edge of the water, their path cut off by the collapsing bridge. Luca didn't stop to watch. He grabbed Maria's arm and pulled her into the trees, Marco following close behind.
They ran for what felt like hours, the forest closing in around them as the sounds of pursuit faded into the distance. Luca's lungs burned, and his legs felt like lead, but he forced himself to keep going. The bridge had bought them time, but it wouldn't stop Franco forever.
By the time they finally stopped, the moon had risen high in the sky, casting an eerie silver light over the forest. They collapsed against the trunk of a large oak tree, their breaths coming in ragged gasps. Luca could feel the weight of exhaustion pressing down on him, but he knew they couldn't rest for long.
"We need to keep moving," Marco said, his voice shaky but determined. "They'll find another way across the river."
Luca nodded, though his body screamed for rest. "We'll stay off the main roads. If we stick to the forest, we can make it to Rome in a day or two. But we need to be careful. Franco won't stop until he has the ledger."
Maria looked at Luca, her eyes filled with a mixture of fear and determination. "We're going to make it, Luca. We have to."
Luca met her gaze, his expression hardening. "We will."
But as they prepared to move again, a soft rustle in the trees caught Luca's attention. He froze, his hand instinctively reaching for his pistol.
A figure emerged from the shadows, cloaked in darkness but unmistakable.
Franco.
He stood just a few yards away, his face illuminated by the moonlight, a cold, calculating smile playing on his lips.
"You didn't think it would be that easy, did you, brother?"
Luca's heart stopped as he realized the truth. Franco had been ahead of them all along, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.