BLOODlines

18: Riverside

Cherish’s heart pounded like a drum in her chest as Frank pulled her hand, urging her to run faster. Behind them, the glow of flashlights danced like hungry eyes, the men’s shouts cutting through the silence of the forest.

“They’re getting closer!” Cherish gasped, stumbling on a root. Frank caught her before she fell, his grip steady though his breath came ragged.

“Keep moving,” he whispered harshly. “If we stop now, it’s over.”

Branches whipped against their faces, their feet slapping against the muddy ground. Somewhere in the distance, the sound of rushing water grew louder—a wild, unrelenting roar. Cherish knew what it meant. The river. Their only chance.

But the thought of throwing herself into the violent current made her blood run cold.

The men pursuing them were relentless, shadows with knives and hatred in their eyes. She didn’t need Frank to say it—if they were caught, it wouldn’t just be separation they’d face. It would be death.

At last, they broke through the trees, stumbling onto the riverbank. The moon slipped out from behind a cloud, casting silver light across the raging water. The river foamed and hissed, swollen from days of rain.

“We can’t,” Cherish whispered, clutching Frank’s arm. “It’ll kill us.”

Frank turned to her, his face pale but resolute. “It’s either the river… or them.” He jerked his head back toward the forest, where the voices were growing louder, closer.

Tears streaked Cherish’s cheeks. “Frank—”

He cupped her face with both hands, his thumbs brushing the wetness from her skin. His eyes burned with a mixture of fear and determination. “Trust me. I won’t let you go. No matter what happens, hold on to me.”

Before she could answer, the sharp c***k of a gunshot tore through the night. The bullet whistled past, striking a tree trunk behind them. The pursuers had spotted them.

Frank grabbed her hand again. “Now!”

They plunged into the icy water. The shock of the cold stole Cherish’s breath instantly, the current seizing her body and pulling her under with terrifying force. Her mouth opened in a scream that filled with water, choking her. For a heartbeat, the world was nothing but darkness and pressure, as though the river itself wanted to swallow her whole.

A strong arm wrapped around her waist, dragging her upward. She broke the surface, coughing and gasping, her nails digging into Frank’s shoulder.

“Hold on!” he shouted above the roar.

The river tossed them like rag dolls, spinning them between waves, dragging them toward jagged rocks jutting out like teeth. Frank fought against the current with every ounce of his strength, but even he knew it was a battle he couldn’t win for long.

On the riverbank, shadows appeared—men with flashlights running alongside the water, their beams sweeping across the surface, searching for them. Shouts echoed, growing fainter as the river carried Frank and Cherish further downstream.

Cherish clung to Frank with everything she had. Her fingers were numb, her body bruised by the violent current, but she refused to let go. Every time she slipped beneath the water, Frank hauled her up again, his own strength fading with each stroke.

“Frank!” she cried, her voice hoarse, as another wave crashed over them. “I can’t—I can’t do this!”

“You can!” he shouted back, forcing her hand tighter into his. “Just a little longer!”

The current whipped them around a bend, where the water surged even faster. Cherish’s head slammed against something hard, stars bursting in her vision. For a terrifying moment, everything went black.

Frank screamed her name. With desperate force, he pulled her onto his chest, kicking furiously toward a cluster of overhanging branches dipping into the water. His hand shot out, seizing one. The branch bent under their combined weight, threatening to snap, but it held.

“Grab it!” he barked.

Cherish fumbled, dazed, her hands slipping again and again before she managed to clutch the branch. Together, they dragged themselves onto a muddy bank, collapsing in the reeds, coughing up river water.

The forest was quiet now, save for the gurgle of the current. Their pursuers had been left behind. For the first time that night, there was no sound of footsteps, no glow of flashlights, no shouts tearing through the trees.

But Cherish knew it wasn’t over. Not yet.

She lay on her back, trembling, her chest heaving. “Frank… we almost died.”

Frank turned his face to her, his wet hair plastered to his forehead, his lips trembling from exhaustion. “We’re not safe yet. They’ll keep searching. We need to keep moving… before they find us again.”

His words sent a chill deeper than the river water through Cherish’s veins. The night had given them no mercy, and neither would the enemies chasing them.

Somewhere in the darkness of the forest, a twig snapped.

Frank froze. His hand closed tightly around hers again.

“They’re still out there.”