Free Instinct by Ike Hamill Page B

collapsed to the grass, empty-handed.
    Cedric reached full speed in two strides.
    Tim turned to run. The dog caught up with him by the first maple tree. Tim turned to look back. The young man was just getting off the ground. The woman held his elbow and helped him to his feet. Tim smiled. The couple wasn’t even giving chase.
    His legs burned by the time he reached the end of Sunset Point Road. He slowed his sprint as they rounded the corner. The dangling leash caught Tim’s eye. He slowed to a stop, letting his feet slap against the pavement.
    “Give me that,” he panted. He removed the leash and the collar. He stuffed the collar in his back pocket and tied the leash around his waist. Cedric looked up at him with his tongue lolling. He looked anxious to move on. Tim nodded at him. They ran down the road.
    Before they reached the first turn, Tim heard the distant whine of an engine. The way it revved and shifted, he knew it was a motorcycle. It sounded like something with a small engine—maybe a dirt bike.
    Tim threw his arms out to the sides for balance and launched over the little gully next to the road. He climbed into the scrubby bushes and whistled for Cedric. A low fence separated them from a big lot filled with parked boats. They were covered in shrink-wrapped plastic for the winter and left there by owners who wouldn’t be returning. Tim and Cedric ran along the fence until they found a spot where the sections of chain-link weren’t joined particularly well. Tim dropped down to squeeze through the gap. He held it open for Cedric.
    When he heard the approaching motorcycle, he said, “Down!” Cedric dropped to the ground and looked at Tim with wide eyes, rimmed with white. “Hush,” Tim whispered. He crouched low, holding the dog’s head down as the motorcycle zipped by on the road. He stayed low for several more seconds before he edged away from the fence and the road. They moved between the rows of parked boats to the other end of the lot. They left through the gate and found their way to a side road.
    Tim relied on his memory and sense of direction to navigate. The sound of the motorcycle disappeared in the distance.
    Tim ran when he could, but they spent a lot of time ducking and hiding every time Tim thought he heard a noise. It took hours to finish the trek back to airplane. When he figured they were within a hundred yards, Tim moved off the road and guided Cedric on a slow trip through the woods. His navigation was accurate. They saw the plane through the scraggly weeds.
    Tim watched the plane for several minutes and then began to slowly creep towards it. He didn’t see any movement. The sun was starting to go down. If he was going to get in the air—and he really wanted to put some distance between himself and Sunset Point—he would have to do it soon. Tim broke from cover and ran towards the plane.  
    He didn’t make it far before he slowed and stopped. The tires were flat. There was a spiderweb of cracks across the windshield. Sooty black marks stained the fuselage just above the door. Tim crawled up on the wing to look inside. It was worse than he imagined. The interior had been splashed with gas and burned. He could smell it. The limited air inside the cabin had put the fire out, but everything was destroyed.
    Tim looked around. He wondered if they were watching him right now.  
    Cedric seemed to sense something was wrong. He didn’t even jump up on the wing to get inside. He stayed on the pavement. Tim joined him.
    “Let’s get out of here,” he said. They ran.

 
    CHAPTER 7: NEW HAMPSHIRE
     

     
    B RAD RAN FOR THE door and pushed through it. He reached the corner of the house as Robby got to the center of the yard and stopped.
    “Robby!” Brad whispered. He started towards the boy.
    “Stop!” a voice yelled from the trees. “Come any closer and we will kill him.”
    Brad stopped. He backed up and put the corner of the building between himself and the voice. A dark shape began