Really, at the moment, all she had to do was stay out of reach. On an island like this, large and wild, thrashed by the storm, that wasn’t such a big challenge—if she handled a few things now.

Mara had parked the golf cart by the front door, apparently to make it less work for her to drag Kellen up the steps, and still bruising for Kellen.

Kellen leaned into the cab.

The key wasn’t in the ignition.

Of course not. That would be too easy.

Mara had said it. She held all the advantages, and she intended to employ them. Cheating meant winning.

So. Kellen opened the battery compartment and removed the battery. It was compact and heavy, and she used it to smash the spokes of Max’s bicycle.

Mara didn’t require access to easy transportation.

Kellen, battery in tow, sprinted across the lawn and into the tall wild grasses. She was searching for the two bikes, hers and Rae’s, that they’d abandoned yesterday. If she could find them, disable Rae’s and ride hers, Mara could never catch her. Easy peasy. Except for that damned rifle in Mara’s hands. How well did she shoot?

The rain weighed down the grass. The wind thrashed the stalks. Kellen ran and tripped, ran and tripped, and finally settled into a steady, slogging pace.

She didn’t have a hat; her hair was long and wet, and constantly flopping in her face. Her jeans were sopping, weighing her down. Her shoes filled with water. She zigzagged back and forth, searching, seeking, worried and not admitting it to herself. If Mara caught a glimpse of her in the sights of her rifle…

She couldn’t. Surely she couldn’t. The rain kept rolling across the land in cool gray squall lines, obliterating the landscape, and twice, blasts of wind knocked her off her feet. If not for her fear, Kellen would have felt alone in the world. But she knew Mara was out there, on the hunt.

Kellen had almost given up when she stumbled on the bikes, farther away from the house than she had ever imagined. An ill-starred sentiment caught at her throat. Her little girl had loved that bike, had ridden that bike to try to get home to Max and to Kellen.

Kellen choked. Cried a single tear. But—

No! No emotion. This was about survival.

She smashed the spokes, then threw the battery into the grasses and mounted her bike. She shouted into the roaring wind, “Max, I’m still alive. You be alive, too! You and Rae, be alive!”

No reply, but another explosion of wind. She wanted to believe that somehow, they heard her. That somehow, they had been rescued, or they’d made it to land. That even now, Rae was healing.