Through Martin’s eyes, he saw Main Street before being spun around for a view of the woods. A car sat behind him, the lady driver appearing frozen as her eyes gazed out the windshield, lifeless and glossy.
“You son of a bitch,” Chris muttered to himself. “Freezing time already, before we even get to dance. I have some tricks up my sleeve, too.” Chris knew that at this point in the process, his thoughts would echo in Martin’s mind, like a distant narrator telling a story from the depths of the subconscious.
Through the windows of Martin’s eyes, the snowy ground passed by in a white blur as he started picking up pace.
“So rushed,” Chris said, refocusing on the task at hand, having to set aside his temporary glee for the turn in fortunate events. He had Martin in the precise moment he had hoped, ready to make the man’s trek through the woods a living hell. He prepared to deliver the performance of a lifetime, knowing his life hung in the balance of the next thirty minutes.
He briefly attempted to take control of Martin’s mind and body, a task he had never quite mastered, and doubted he had the energy to complete now. He felt the momentary grip around Martin’s conscience, promptly slipping through his fingers like a wet fish.
Chris backed off and settled for the barrage of mental attacks he had enqueue, letting the world and Martin’s subconscious fall silent as he hid in the corner, ready to fight.
Chapter 28
Martin started into the woods, dragging his feet as he kept shooting glances over his shoulder, convinced Chris had somehow planted another Warm Soul to tail him. But no one appeared, and the reality settled in that it truly was Martin and Chris, alone in the wilderness to fight to the end.
Much to his surprise, Martin didn’t feel the weight of the world on his shoulders as he crunched through the patches of snow, following a hand-drawn map that showed the safest path to the cabin. He couldn’t even acknowledge the gravity of the situation after stressing over this exact moment all day. The thoughts of death and the jumble of scenarios for how this could all play out remained dormant in his mind, his eyes focused on the physical steps ahead.
He did as advised, taking one step at a time, staying behind one of the several tree trunks that surrounded him, shielding him from the outside world where no one would ever hear his screams. Chris had proven a deliberate man, and Martin didn’t doubt this location was part of a long series of well-calculated decisions should matters escalate to this point.
Remember, Martin reminded himself. You’re on his land. It’s all designed to give him an advantage. Be ready for anything. Bear traps, trees falling over. A split-second decision can decide your life in these woods.
With that thought, the adrenaline started to pump into his veins. Looking ahead, Martin observed trees as far as he could see, snow scattered in the few areas that lacked foliage high above. Any sighting of a cabin waited at least fifteen minutes ahead, possibly more if he took a wrong turn. But he trusted the map would guide him with no issues.
He continued forward, hiding from something he couldn’t see, trusting the process and his own abilities to save the world while it remained frozen. He imagined Commander Blair, surely pacing his office in London, flipping desks and furniture over in a fit of rage once he realized time had been frozen without his knowledge, assuming he was awake at the odd hour. To Martin and Steffan’s knowledge, Commander Blair didn’t know any other Warm Souls besides himself and Martin. If he was sleeping—something Martin now understood as a rare commodity for commanders—then he’d wake to news of one story or another, leaving the fact that time had been frozen irrelevant.
Martin shook his head, refusing to fall down the rabbit hole of what-ifs, especially in a situation where a bullet could strike him without warning should he lose focus. He resumed watching his feet, looking to the ground, then up to the nearest tree to hide behind.
A woozy sensation swarmed over him for a brief moment, and he thought he heard Chris’s voice speaking in his head. But it wasn’t loud or clear enough to make out for certain. He stopped in his tracks to listen to the silent world around him. No animals, no chirping bugs, no distant hum of vehicles driving around town. The silence echoed back to him and he took one more step before stopping again.
“Martin,” a soft voice said, one that sent chills across his whole body. A voice that made his heart pound with the drums of love.
“Sonya?” he asked to the wilderness, his voice carrying.
“Oh, Martin,” Sonya’s voice replied, echoing, cocooning around him, prompting him to spin to find the source. “We could have had a life together. Was this all worth it? Why did you let me die?”
“That’s a lie!” Martin growled, his lips quivering as he kept jumping around in place, hands sprawled in front of him as if he were ready for an attack. Deep down he knew that Sonya’s voice wasn’t real, and it had to be a decoy from Chris, but that didn’t stop him from wanting to lean into this moment and see where it might take him.
“You didn’t kill me, but I’m dead because of you. You should have never kept looking for me—I’d still be alive.”
Martin cupped his hands and slapped them over his ears like a child throwing a tantrum. He wanted to see if the voice was in his head or actually occurring in the woods. “Sonya, where are you?”
“Buried where you instructed—right next to Izzy.” The voice spoke from the trees, muffled through his hands, its lingering echo still shooting around him when he lowered them back in front of his body.
“None of this was supposed to happen,” Martin
