Winter's Scars: The Forsaken (Winter's Saga 5) by Luellen Karen

Author:Luellen, Karen [Luellen, Karen]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Karen Luellen
Published: 2013-03-07T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 45 Maze

“See, all you have to do is keep your body straight. Your feet should roll heel, toe. Your knees should land straight above your ankles. Even your pumping arms need to swing straight ahead.”

Sloan was concentrating on her form as she ran through the rural dirt roads etched into the scenic Egyptian terrain between Cairo and Giza. The family had left the US and taken quiet refuge in North Africa, but however far they ran, however much they kept to themselves, they still looked over their shoulders, waiting for the next attack.

Sloan had taken an intense interest in physical performance since the day of the attack in Flagstaff. Cole knew she must have felt weak and useless, so she was deliberately working hard to develop her skills. She never wanted to feel that helpless again. For the past three months, Sloan had jumped right into archery and mixed martial arts. Now she wanted to learn how to run.

Cole had changed a lot over the past three months since Meg’s disappearance. The combination of the events in Kentucky and Arizona seemed to have scared him straight.

The day Evan insisted the family leave Meg and rush into hiding changed everything. Evan was a completely different person, sullen and withdrawn. Margo, still wheelchair bound, seemed to spend all her time with Danny. Theo found his niche working in the ER of a local hospital where his skilled hands and easygoing nature helped him fit right in. Sloan worked as a researcher in the pathology lab at the same hospital, her sharp mind having picked up the language quickly. Everybody coped with their exile and the loss of their own as best they could.

Some better than others.

Cole jogged alongside Sloan, watching her technique and gently correcting anything he saw out of sorts. Maze was running with them, too. His silver coat had thinned in the warm, dry desert air. Matter of fact, much about Maze was thinned and wiry. He just hadn’t been the same after losing Meg. He was pining for her. He demanded to be left outside much of the time so he could sit and sniff the dry breeze. Sometimes, he’d just sit and howl painfully at the night sky. Other times, he would whine to be let out of the house, then take off, wandering farther and farther away, always in the same northern direction.

About two months earlier, Maze wandered off and didn’t come home all night. The next morning, everyone had gone looking for him. No one said it, but they were all terrified of something had happened to Meg’s coydog. When she came home, she would need him. He had to be there.

They searched for Maze the entire day. Finally, around dusk, Theo was driving north on a sand-covered road when he saw him. Maze had run seventy-two miles from their place just outside Giza to where Theo found him limping along the road leading toward the Mediterranean Sea. His formally regal head hung low and his tongue was swollen with dehydration.

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