Chapter 145 - The Frozen Marsh
Emma gently shook her daughter's shoulder. "Maya, sweetie. Wake up. We need to be very quiet, okay? Just like the game we played at the lake."
Maya sat up, rubbing her sleepy eyes with the back of her mittens. She didn't cry. The fear of the last forty-eight hours had matured the six-year-old in ways that broke Emma's heart, but the girl’s courage was astonishing. "Are the bad people still looking for us, Mommy?"
"Not for long, baby," Emma promised, fastening the child’s heavy coat and pulling the knit hat down over her ears. "We’re going to take a little walk with Uncle Arthur."
Arthur didn't take the highway. He threw the sedan into reverse, backing down an overgrown access road that led directly into the marshlands bordering the Richelieu River. The mud beneath the snow churned violently, spraying black slush against the undercarriage as the car lurched forward into the brush, finally wedging itself beneath the low, dense canopy of weeping willows.
"Out. Now," Arthur commanded.
They stepped out into the biting wind. The cold was immediate and vicious, piercing straight through their layers. In the distance, through the naked branches, Emma saw two sets of high-intensity vehicle headlights turning off the main road onto the gravel lot they had just evacuated.
"They have thermal optics on that bird," Arthur whispered, opening the trunk and pulling out a heavy, canvas-wrapped emergency pack. "We can't stay in the open. The river has frozen over, but the center current makes the ice thin. We have to follow the old drainage culverts beneath the railway line."
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Emma lifted Maya into her arms, pressing the girl’s face into the crook of her neck. "Lead the way."
They plunged down the muddy embankment into the darkness of the marsh. Every step was a battle against sucking mud and brittle, breaking ice that cracked like gunshots in the dead quiet of the night. Behind them, the sharp, percussive sound of car doors slamming echoed across the frozen fields.
