20

Paul slammed the door shut and pushed her away from the door. “Get behind the cooler.”

They both lunged behind it as a loud explosion splintered the wooden door. The bullet slammed into the cooler, making the metal rattle.

Thank You, God. Maven stared at the holes. That could have been her or Paul instead of the door.

Paul grabbed her arm. “The other door. Let’s go.”

They stumbled towards it, Paul still leaning heavily on Maven’s shoulder.

Another explosion echoed through the tiny room as they left. They moved as fast as they could into the ramshackle barn.

“Maven, you need to go for help. My legs are too weak. I’m not fast enou—”

She shook her head. “I’m not leaving you. We’ll go together.”

“We don’t have time to argue, Maven. It’s our only chance. Now go.”

Her lips trembled. “She has a gun. She’ll kill you.”

“I’ll hide while you get help. I’ll be fine.”

She didn’t believe him. Her heart broke, but Paul was right. “I love you.”

Paul pushed her towards the other exit. “I love you too. Now go. Maven, please. And no matter what you hear, don’t come back. Understand? Go get help.”

She sobbed. “I love you.”

“We’ll get out of this, Maven. It’s why you’ve been training for months.”

Taking a deep breath, Maven sprinted through the barn, her focus on the door at the other end. Freda screamed from the other end of the barn, “If you go, I’ll kill him. You get back here right now.”

Her feet slowed. Paul had told her to keep running. It was their only chance. She ran towards the door, pushed the creaky thing out of her way, and kept running.

A shot exploded inside the barn.

Please, God. Keep him safe.

****

Paul crouched behind the door of a stall, knowing Freda would find him soon. He prayed Maven wouldn’t come back. Her safety was what counted.

And now she knew the truth that he hadn’t deserted her. That he still loved her. If he died now, at least Maven knew their love was real.

“Where are you?” His mother-in-law’s voice was stern as if speaking to an errant child.

He slowed his breath, trying to keep as quiet as possible.

“You have no right to be alive. You have no right to be happy while my sweet little girl is dead. It’s all your fault. I told her not to marry you. You ruined her life.”

He closed his eyes at the hurtful words. The words weren’t from Freda, but from whatever illness possessed her mind. The Freda he knew and loved would never do this.

A moment later, the gun exploded once again. Dirt and wood rained down on him from the rafters. “If you love that woman, you better show yourself.”

Please, God, let this work out for all our good. Including Freda.

Another shot and then she uttered words he’d never thought he’d hear from her mouth.

A moment later, the door to the milk house slammed.

Had she gone after Maven? Or was it a trick? Was she really gone or waiting for him to show himself?

****

Maven ran down the dirt path, praying cars would be on the road. The golf cart was rumbling in the background. Freda was looking for her. Had she killed Paul?

“You get back here,” Freda screamed at her.

She couldn’t outrun the golf cart. I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me. The thought popped into her head. I can do this. Give me strength. She sprinted into the cornfield and out of Freda’s sight.

If Freda was chasing her, did that mean she hadn’t found Paul? Maven chose to believe Paul was alive. He had to be. Running, she zigzagged her way through the corn. She could hear the golf cart in the distance. But no more gunshots.

Maven wanted to turn back—go to Paul. But that wouldn’t get them out of here. She had to get somewhere so she could call for help. Cornstalks scratched her arms as she ran. Ahead, Maven saw trees. A moment later, she was on the road.

Which way? Right would take her back to Freda’s. Left? Who knew? Straight ahead, more woods, but they had to lead somewhere. She crossed the road and ran into the trees. At least they offered some protection.

A shotgun blasted through the afternoon silence.

The tree she hid behind shook. Keep moving. Maven ran, being careful to stay behind trees as much as possible. When she couldn’t run anymore, she leaned against a tree to rest.

When she’d caught her breath, she resumed her run. She couldn’t hear the golf cart anymore. Did that mean she’d given up? Or that she’d gone back for Paul? She couldn’t think about that right now. Had to get to a phone to call for help.

Finally, a house came into view. Thank You, God. This time, she didn’t care if they were home or not. She was getting to a phone—one way or another. Maven ran out of the woods, her focus only on the house.

Halfway to the house, her feet stopped.

Freda’s golf cart was in the driveway between Maven and the house. She stood beside it, smiling at Maven. “Did you really think you could outrun a golf cart?”

“Freda, why are you doing this? Why would you want to hurt Paul?”

“Why should Paul be happy when my daughter’s dead? It’s not right.” She cradled the shotgun. “He doesn’t get to have a life either.”

“It’s not Paul’s fault she died.”

“Maybe not, but he certainly didn’t honor her by wanting to marry someone else. Get in the golf cart, now. I’ll take you back to Paul. At least you’ll be together when you die.” She lifted up the gun, aiming it at Maven.

“The only place I’m going is into that house.” Maven pointed at the house behind Freda.

“Have it your way.” Her finger moved to the trigger.