Chapter 7 - THE SAFE HOUSE IN THE WOODS
Two hours north, deep within the densely wooded wilderness of Michigan's Upper Peninsula, the truck turned down an overgrown logging road buried under two feet of fresh snow.
A weathered cabin made of hand-hewn logs sat in a clearing, its chimney smoking against the gray dawn.
"We stay here for forty-eight hours," Sara said, killing the engine. "My old safe house. Untraceable by satellite, no digital grid, and stocked with enough canned goods to last through a nuclear winter."
Emily climbed out of the truck, her limbs stiff and aching from the cold.
The moment her boots hit the snow, a sharp, stabbing pain ripped through her lower back and abdomen.
She gasped, stumbling sideways against the truck door.
Sara was out of the driver's seat in an instant, catching Emily by the shoulders. "What is it? What's wrong?"
"The baby," Emily groaned, white-faced, her fingers digging into Sara's coat. "The stress... the freezing water... something's wrong."
Sara cursed under her breath, scooped Emily up in her arms with surprising strength, and carried her across the snowy porch into the cabin, kicking the heavy oak door shut behind them.
She laid Emily gently on a plaid-covered cot near the stone fireplace.
"Listen to me, Emily," Sara said, her voice urgent as she stripped off Emily’s wet coat and boots. "You're only eight weeks along. Bleeding or severe cramping at this stage means danger. We need a doctor."
"There are no doctors here, Sara," Emily wept, trembling violently from the cold and the pain. "If we call a clinic, Alessandro’s informants will flag our location within ten minutes."
"Then we do it ourselves," Sara said grimly, pulling a medical kit from the overhead cabinet. "I was a combat medic before I married into the Chicago mob. Lie still, keep breathing, and let me check your pulse."
For the next two hours, the cabin was silent except for the crackling of pine logs in the stone fireplace and Emily’s suppressed whimpers of pain.
Sara worked with quiet, mechanical precision, administering a mild antispasmodic injection from the emergency kit and wrapping Emily in three layers of heated woolen blankets.
As the afternoon sun began to dip below the frozen horizon, the sharp cramping finally subsided into a dull, manageable ache.
Emily opened her eyes, her face pale and drawn. "Is... is she gone?"
Sara exhaled a long breath, wiping a smudge of soot from her forehead. "No. The heartbeat is faint, but it's holding. You're resting on the absolute edge of a cliff, Emily. One more shock like last night, and neither of us will be able to save this pregnancy."
Emily stared up at the exposed log beams of the ceiling.
May you like
She had escaped the cage, but the wolves were still howling outside the door.
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