LUTHER
I’ve got her f*****g scent.
Amanda.
It’s faint. Too f*****g faint. But I am damn sure that she was here. She was f*****g here. How long ago? Hours? A day? Longer? I don’t know. My thoughts are a f*****g blur, tangled with exhaustion and hunger and the gnawing, suffocating fear that I am too late.
I suck in another breath, sharp, desperate, nostrils flaring as I lunge forward, branches clawing at my skin, rain slashing my face. . I was with the recruits, watching them stumble through drills, wasting my goddamn time when I caught her scent.
I lunge forward, boots sinking deep. Mud drags, grips, refuses to let me go. I rip free, shove harder, drive my legs into the earth until my muscles scream. The cold doesn’t touch me. The pain doesn’t matter. Nothing f*****g matters but her.
