Chapter 3

The next morning, the tiny, battery-operated TV I' d brought crackled with a news report.

"...police are intensifying their search for a dangerous fugitive, identified as 'Viper,' believed to be armed and hiding in the national forest area. He is described as male, late twenties, carrying a dark-colored backpack..."

My blood ran cold.

Late twenties. Dark backpack. That was me. They were closing in.

My olive drab backpack suddenly felt like a neon sign.

"They're onto me," I whispered, panic clawing at my throat.

Clara, who was idly flipping through a tattered magazine she' d found, looked up.

"Who's onto you?"

"The police! The news..."

She listened for a moment, then raised an eyebrow. "Viper? Really? Does he hiss when he talks? And 'dark-colored backpack'? Leo, half the hikers in this forest probably have dark-colored backpacks. Including, I might add, the actual meth-head fugitive they're looking for, who probably isn't you unless you've developed a sudden craving for Sudafed and anarchy."

Her logic was infuriatingly sound, but the fear didn't subside.

I had to see Lily.

"I need to go out for a bit," I said, grabbing my keys.

"Souvenir shopping?" Clara asked dryly.

I didn't answer, just secured the door, a flimsy lock that she could probably pick with a hairpin if she really wanted to.

The drive to the county hospital was a blur of anxiety.

Lily was asleep when I arrived, her small face pale against the white pillow. A new, more expensive-looking IV drip was attached to her arm.

Marc, my old squadmate, was there, sitting by her bed.

He looked up as I entered, his expression grim.

"Leo. Where the hell have you been?"

"Around," I mumbled, avoiding his gaze.

"Around?" Marc stood up, his firefighter's frame towering over me. "People are talking, man. You disappeared. Your landlord called me. And now this ransom demand for Harrison Hayes's daughter? The news is everywhere. Don't tell me you're involved in that."

His eyes searched mine, full of a disbelief I couldn't meet.

"Lily needs the money, Marc," I said, my voice cracking. "The new treatment protocol they suggested... it's astronomical. Insurance laughed."

"So you kidnap someone?" His voice was low, incredulous. "Leo, this isn't you. This is insane. You're a Marine, not a criminal."

"I'm a brother who's watching his sister die," I shot back, the desperation raw in my voice. "What would you do?"

Marc ran a hand over his face. "Not this. There are always other ways. This will destroy you, Leo. And it won't save Lily if you're in prison."

He was right, of course. But I was too far gone.

"I have to try," I said, my gaze fixed on Lily. "I have to."

Marc sighed, a sound heavy with disappointment and worry. "Just... be careful, Leo. Please. For Lily's sake, if not your own."

I left the hospital with his words echoing in my ears, my guilt a heavy stone in my gut.

The $250,000 I'd initially planned for seemed like a joke now, especially after Clara' s five-million-dollar upgrade. But even that felt impossibly distant.