Mattie glanced toward the chopper to see black smoke billowing from its fuselage. Surprised shouts erupted all around her. The men scrambled from the craft. “Grab the extinguisher!” one of them shouted.
“Watch the woman!”
“The fire is coming from the engine! Quickly, put it out!”
Run!
The flight instinct kicked in with a vengeance. Refusing to think of repercussions, she spun away from the chopper and literally ran for her life.
She darted across the clearing to the forest, her feet barely seeming to touch the ground. She scrambled over the trunk of a fallen tree, through brush that tore at her slacks. She knew they would catch her; there was no way she could elude four men with guns. But terror and adrenaline were driving her, not logic.
Shouts erupted as she fled. She heard her pursuers behind her, following her, breaking through brush. Praying for a miracle, she glanced over her shoulder toward the place where the man called Cutter had fallen.
But he was gone.
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