Flashlight beams slashed through the dark trees above the creek, darting across the rocks and wet branches like searching fingers.

"We can't climb up to the road," Daniel whispered, pulling Helen to her feet and holding Emma close against his side.

"There's an old concrete maintenance culvert fifty yards past the weir," Helen said, her voice trembling but clear. "It runs beneath the state route into the public boat landing."

Daniel gripped Emma’s hand tightly, supporting his mother’s weight with his left arm as they moved through the ankle-deep mud along the water’s edge.

Behind them, heavy boots slipped and crashed through the brush near the base of the stone bridge.

"Over here!" a man shouted from fifty paces back. "We've got fresh tracks leading toward the drainage channel!"

A heavy beam of halogen light cut across the water, catching the hem of Helen’s brown wool blanket as they rounded the bend of the bank.

"Stop right there!" a voice bellowed, followed immediately by the metallic sound of a gun slide being pulled back.

"Get in!" Daniel roared, shoving Helen and Emma into the wide, arched opening of the concrete drainage pipe.

A gunshot cracked through the night air.

The bullet struck the outer concrete rim of the culvert with a sharp thwack, showering Daniel’s neck and shoulders with stinging stone fragments.

Daniel threw his weight against the rusted iron trash grate at the pipe's mouth, slamming it shut and wedging a discarded steel rebar rod through the latch ring.

They scrambled through the dark, cold pipe, splashing through inches of freezing runoff until the faint orange light of the park pavilion appeared ahead.

They stumbled out of the culvert mouth onto the soggy grass of the empty boat ramp.

Parked behind the closed park concession stand was a battered silver sedan with its hazard lights flashing rhythmically against the wet asphalt.

The driver’s side door swung open, and Victoria stepped out into the rain.

Her trench coat was torn, a dark purple bruise was already swelling along her cheekbone, and her hands shook violently as she unlocked the rear doors.

"Get inside!" Victoria pleaded, her voice raw and desperate. "Miller’s officers are patrolling the interstate, but I know the back gravel routes that lead to the state police headquarters."

Daniel stared at her through the rain, his jaw clenched, his hand hesitating inches above the open door handle.

"Daniel, please," Helen said, pulling on his sleeve. "She took a blow from Davies so I could slip out through the cellar hatch. We don't have time to argue."