The Tide (Tide Series Book 1) by Anthony J Melchiorri Page A

grabbed his leg and grunted, appearing to fight against the pain.
    “Don’t make another sound. Don’t yell, don’t sneeze, don’t blink your goddamn eyes, or he’s dead.” Meredith tightened her arm around her hostage’s neck. She didn’t intend to kill him. Hell, she hadn’t wanted to hurt the other agent. But she knew he wouldn’t have stood down unless she showed how sincere she was.
    Voices barked over the radio she’d taken earlier. “Any visuals on the target?”
    “Negative,” another replied.
    Meredith feared they were scouring the apartment building and closing the dragnet around the complex. Time was running out. She stuck one hand into her hostage’s jacket pocket. Her fingers hit plastic, and she pulled out a set of zip ties. Her hostage writhed in her grip, but it seemed he’d taken her warnings more seriously than his partner.
    “On your knees,” Meredith said. “Hands behind your back.”
    The man did as she said, and she cinched the zip tie cuffs around his wrists. She tore off his jacket and gagged him with the sleeve. The second agent huddled against the brick wall of the apartment building. His face seemed strained, as if he was biting back the agony that must be coursing through his leg from the gunshot wound.
    When Meredith bent to gag him, he surged up and knocked her into the side of the dumpster. He swung a fist that glanced off her jaw. She staggered backward but ducked under his second jab. The agent lurched forward and dove for her legs. Meredith grabbed his shoulder and arm and used his momentum to slam him headfirst against the dumpster.
    The hollow sound of skull against metal rang out. The man crumpled. Her stomach dropped as he twitched and then went limp. Killing an agent was never her intention. She knelt by him and pressed two fingers against his neck. A pulse. His chest rose and fell slowly. He’d have a hell of a headache, but he’d live.
    She sprinted into the woods at the edge of the parking lot. The tree branches scratched at her as she flitted between the spindly trunks of tall pines. She raced through without looking back. Soon the dense branches blocked her view of the moon and stars. Her pack thumped against her back as she bounded over the underbrush. Soon, she reached a small creek gurgling over rocks. Its muddy trail led her toward a concrete drainage tunnel she recognized.
    This was the next stage of her escape route. Her lungs burned as she strained to catch her breath. She spotted a familiar tree stump singed by lightning. Pine needles and fallen tree branches surrounded it. She knelt and dug through them to uncover a larger bag she’d stowed away. It contained MREs, comm equipment, extra clothes, and camping gear for her journey.
    Exhausted but determined, she trudged through the night until she reached her next destination: Great Falls, Virginia. She emerged from the woods to a sea of asphalt in front of a strip mall. A host of dark storefronts greeted her. An orange closed sign blinked from the Happy Turtle Tavern, and the lot’s light fixtures cast a brackish glow over the pavement. Several cars sat in the parking lot along with a semi-trailer truck, its diesel engine idling.
    Meredith slipped a key from her pocket and made her way to a rust-pocked Honda Civic. She’d bought the vehicle with cash from an unscrupulous seller she’d found on Craigslist and managed to avoid transferring the car’s title to her own name. She unlocked it and threw her hiking backpack and the rucksack with the equipment from her apartment into the rear. She slid into the front seat and started the four-cylinder engine. It sparked to life with an unhealthy grinding sound. She guided the car onto the empty street and prayed it would get her to Harper’s Ferry undetected.
    Once there, she’d take the Appalachian Trail north and hide in plain sight by looking no different than the others trekking and camping along the famed footpath. The hike would take her to Maryland,