AN: Whew that chapter took forever. Well we've gone from a tired Jordan getting into an accident with Woody in Boston to a desperate Jordan trying to save herself while Woody follows her trail in Canada… Keep reading as I post to find the conclusion! Special thanks to all of you who've posted almost 90 reviews! 90! I'm hoping to get to the 100 mark before the story's finished ;) (btw, that's like 5 reviews per chapter, I truly appreciate that! The most I've EVER received!) cavanaugh-girl, KittyDoggyLover, daynaa, Orlando-crazy, BoscoCruzCrazy thanks a lot!

A Match You Strike to Incinerate

The sun was out, high in the sky it streamed through the trees. Dawn had approached and with it, so had her pursuers. Jordan was torn from her safe hole with the ferocity of a storm. Angler's silent assistant had finally spoken, and with a gun in his hand, his words were convincing. Jordan squeezed out of the animal cave and was kicked repeatedly for her subordination.

Her sobs turned to painful screams until Angler came to silence her with his control device. "That's enough," he said to his nameless accomplice. He stopped beating her as her hand stung with fresh pain. She had gotten used to the normalcy in her hand and the fire that spread up her arm hurt more than it had before. On her knees, she held her bruised stomach with her free hand while the other convulsed. Her face contorted in pain, she screamed out before puking on the forest floor.

"Silence woman or you'll get worse than that," Angler growled.

His gravely voiced friend laughed as if he were enjoying a nice day in the park before wrenching her up by the shoulders so that she could continue the journey to the border.

Angler lost control; he whipped a gun out of a holster hidden behind his jacket, "You God damned little cock wipe, did I tell you that you could touch her?" The man's face looked fearful as he let go of Jordan. She fell to the ground in a pained lump. "You useless pile of rat feces," he roared, "go to hell!"

He pulled the trigger aimed at his accomplices' forehead, splashing his brains out through the rear. The man fell to the ground faceless and in a motion slower than reality. Never had death been so morbid for Jordan than watching that man die at such close range. If she had not been witnessing the entire event, she recognized every scientific symptom for death on him; a single gunshot to the head at close range with a 9mm pistol. She lost her lunch again on the forest floor.

Angler bloodied his shoe with the man's face by kicking the corpse repeatedly, splashing blood over Jordan's body. She felt nauseous again but with nothing in her stomach, she could not do anything to solve her problem. She sat, motionless but for her trembling, until he reached down and pulled her up forcefully mumbling something about how his work was finished after the bomb. Whatever he said, Jordan could tell that he was at his wits end and she had messed up her last chance to get out of this situation alive.

--- --- ---

Binns and Lopez finished scouring the area, they pulled clues out of the ditch and guessed the area in which Angler and his hostage had entered the forest. They found a third set of footprints as well and with Fiorenzo's permission, followed them into the forest.

"Here's another," the younger officers Binns, said, approximately thirty feet from where his colleague, Lopez, studied the print made by a cast, "it must be the hostage's."

"I would assume so because it matches no animal in these parts and Detective Hoyt said that she had broken her leg a while back. Who knows, that cast mark might just be the factor that saves her life. The cast is heavier than a regular foot print, and when applied by her body weight, it can be seen clearer than the others."

They continued down the trail further, marking their way with florescent coloured strips of plastic tied to trees. They found that she had grown tired or weary or pained and began dragging her cast, making a deeper imprint in the ground.

"Maybe we should contact the chief and tell him what we're finding," Lopez suggested responsibly, reaching in his pocket for a cell phone.

The eager Binns agreed as long as they could continue down the trail. His hopes of following the trail were dashed when they heard the explosion and felt a blast of warm air sift through the trees behind them.

They hurried back to where Fiorenzo and Smyth had been searching the abandoned vehicle, or what was left of it. The vehicle was now a smoldering heap of metal unworthy for the scrap yard.

Binns got as close as the burning inferno would allow, trying to see any signs of life from Fiorenzo and Smyth. Lopez was on his radio in an instant for backup and medical assistance.

--- --- ---

"Detective Hoyt!" One of the deputies called from his cruiser, "There's been an explosion on the I-91 where that abandoned vehicle was found!"

Woody's heart clenched, what a mess, he thought. "Go then, you can't do any more here, join Fiorenzo and the others."

"What are you doing Woody?" Max asked.

"I'm going to Canada." He hopped in the cruiser with officer Grady, leaving an irate Max on the sidewalk. He peeled out of the lot toward the manned border. Almost there Jordan, just hold out a little longer.

--- --- ---

Woody where are you? She cried desperately in her mind. She knew she shouldn't depend on him, or anybody else to save her. She knew long ago in the dark, damp forest during a faux wedding that it was only up to her to get out of this bizarre situation, that waiting for somebody to rescue her was too damsel in distress. However, the thought wouldn't go away.

Angler mumbled for a little while, angry that she had put them so far behind, and he had been forced to shoot the other man because he had laid his hands on his wife and bruised her. Angler was no less violent, however, and she was at that point where she thought she could not go on. He dragged her at gun point, because his hand-control device seemed to have lost the spark much like their marriage. According to him, they were making decent time and would arrive at the border soon, "Then home-free my little pudding pop."

Jordan sneered, "Do you actually believe you're going to be home-free?"

Angler laughed psychotically, "Of course I do, my dear. What do you suppose those French-speaking Liberal Hippies are going to do to me?" He swung her around and slammed her into a chain linked fence. Jordan looked up and gasped, she knew she was not going to be able to climb that fence not only because of the height but because of the razor wire precariously perched at the top.

From inside his jacket, Angler produced a tool that looked like an enormous pair of pliers. Jordan knew that it was a lock cutter, she watched as he began snapping the metal fence. She wanted to run but knew she had a better chance to get away later, if she weren't dead. She was in so much pain she was shaking. He finished snipping the gate revealing a hole large enough for him to crawl through. He forced Jordan through first and followed her.

Another ten minute walk led them to an abandoned, two door sports car. The getaway vehicle. Jordan groaned as he forced her into the passenger seat and, with a pair of handcuffs, secured her to the door. She put on her seat belt; she had an aching feeling that Angler wasn't a very safe driver.