The footsteps grew louder, the crunch of boots on damp earth deliberate—steady, like they weren't searching blindly. My breath caught in my throat as I pressed myself tighter against the roots, barely daring to move. A twig snapped, and I froze, my heart pounding in my chest, praying to any god that would listen that I wouldn't be noticed. Then, silence.
I didn't dare breathe.
Then a voice—low, rough, and unnervingly close.
"She was here. I swear I saw movement last night."
Another voice, sharp with frustration.
"You think she got out by herself? No way. It was Job. That bastard opened the damn door."
A third voice grumbled from farther away, the tension in the air palpable. "Job?" The man laughed bitterly. "You think he'd risk everything for one girl?"
"I don't know, man." The first voice again, shaky now. "He hesitated. He knew it was wrong, but he opened it. He was the only one with access."
I felt my pulse race, the blood rushing in my ears as panic began to claw at the edges of my thoughts. Job? Did they honestly think he was the one who had let me out? Why did he abduct me in the first place? Why save me now?
Another voice cut through the haze of confusion, harsher. "She won't get far. She's bleeding and tired. She's in these woods somewhere."
"Don't underestimate her," the first voice warned. "She'll be hiding. Just like last time."
My body tensed, instincts screaming at me to move. The weight of the men's anger and suspicion felt heavy in the air around me, and I fought the urge to tremble as they drew closer.
Leaves rustled. Too close. My heart was in my throat, every beat louder than the last. I could hear their boots now, the crunch of each step more defined, more deliberate. I squeezed my eyes shut, willing myself into the dirt. I couldn't be found. I wouldn't let them drag me back.
Then a twig snapped beside me.
I held my breath, my heart threatening to break free of my chest. I could see the edge of a boot now, half-covered in mud, just beyond the low brush. My skin crawled. I had to stay still. I couldn't make a sound. If they found me—
"Check over by that tree trunk," the first voice commanded. "She might be curled under something."
The tree trunk. It wasn't far from me. I could feel my body tense, my chest tightening as the footsteps grew closer, the shadow of the man looming ever nearer. I didn't dare move, didn't dare shift. I couldn't risk it.
I fought to keep my breathing steady, praying they wouldn't hear my panicked gasps, hoping the thick underbrush would mask my presence.
But the silence was broken again.
Another voice crackled through the radio, distorted but clear. "Leave it. Boss wants you back at the site. Now."
There was a pause—a long, heavy pause that made my stomach churn—and then a muttered curse. The sounds of boots crunching against the dirt grew softer. One of them swore under his breath, but it didn't matter anymore. They were leaving. Fading into the forest, the faint rustle of their movements growing distant.
I waited. A moment passed. Two. Three.
Then nothing.
The stillness around me was deafening, but I couldn't move. I couldn't risk it. Not yet.
I kept my back pressed to the earth, my limbs stiff from being curled into the roots for so long. My throat was dry, my head spinning, and the world around me felt far too quiet. But I was still hidden. Still safe. For now.
I waited another long moment, listening intently for any sign of the men returning. When no sound reached my ears, when I was sure they were gone, I allowed myself a shallow breath. My fingers slowly released their tight grip on the earth beneath me, the tension in my body beginning to ebb.
Carefully, I shifted, testing the movement in my aching limbs. They were stiff, and my body protested, but I couldn't stay there forever. I needed to move. I needed to find a way out—somewhere to hide until I figured out what the hell had happened. Who had betrayed me.
Just as I gathered the strength to rise, a soft voice—almost a whisper—broke the silence. A voice that completely unfamiliar.
"Are you all right?"