This is chapter seven of Steve’s Story
Chapter Six can be found here: When it cracked open…
Just when I thought the day couldn’t get any worse I realised that I shouldn’t assume things. Looking through the crack in the door what I saw chilled me to the bone, and I knew that I needed to act fast to save both John and myself. My mind and body, though still cold and slowed by the freezing weather and dampness of my clothes, went into automatic. It was as though my gut instinct was telling me something. I sensed danger all around, especially from the darkness of the kitchen. What I had seen was imprinted on my mind.
I pulled back from the door and shoving it closed grabbed John’s arm. “Quick, outta here,” I managed to say as I dragged him away from the door towards the front door. He didn’t resist even though he must have wondered what had panicked me so. All things considered I guessed he must be getting used to the shocks and twists and turns of what seemed to be his life at that moment.
“Tell me that wasn’t your car that blew up earlier, and we’ve a way out of here,” I shouted as I ran towards the front door, dragging John the first few steps.
The terror on my face and in my voice must have been evident from the quaver I heard in John’s reply. “My car’s round the side. Right when you get out of the front door,” he shouted after me. Looking round I saw him waving keys as confirmation of our escape vehicle.
We were out the door like the proverbial bats out of hell. I turned right slipping on the icy front door step and almost lost my balance. John grabbed my arm steadying me and took over the race. I hadn’t seen his car hidden behind the bracken and bushes when we had come into the cabin a few moments earlier, but was so relieved at the sight of it. A thought suddenly filled my head; ‘It’s not going to start’.
John opened the driver’s door and jumped in as I hollered, “Start the engine and get us out of here, as quick as you can,” I could see the questions clearly etched in his face, but he held his tongue and did as I asked.
I jumped into the passenger seat and slammed the door. John gunned the engine. The relief that the car had started first time washed over me.
Glancing in my direction, then in the rear-view mirror John slammed the car into first gear and, churning mud and snow under us he sped away from the cabin. Pulling my seat-belt down I chanced a look over my shoulder. I was sure all hell was about to break loose, as if it hadn’t already.
And the next part of Steve’s story is here