Chapter 11 #3
She stepped closer to the edge of the rock floor and studied the man. Was he lost in thought? Had he seen her flashlight and was curious as to who would be up here this time of night?
Strange. He seemed to be looking right at her.
Couldn’t be. It was dark and he wasn’t using binoculars.
No sooner than the thought had formed, he moved to his right.
A telescope.
A big, powerful telescope.
She stepped to the side, close to where the vines had encroached, despite ambitious pruning. The thick, rebellious vines snaked about in no particular pattern, weaving in and around the wooden pillars supporting the chapel’s roof.
He had to know someone was up here. He’d seen her flashlight. She was sure of it. Now he was looking for the owner of that light. He would likely call the police. Damn it.
If she knew his name and number, she would call him and tell him not to worry. She was a little weird, but she was no threat to him or his prestigious property.
The hair on the back of Sarah’s neck lifted.
She tensed.
The rasp of leather on icy rock whispered in her ears a split second before she recognized the danger.
Turn around.
Something slammed into her back.
She was propelled forward.
Cold, thin air met her.
She was over the edge.
The oxygen evacuated her lungs.
Falling.
She clutched at the vines.
The sudden jerk told her she’d managed to grab on.
Don’t move.
Be calm.
Think.
The vine was holding.
Her heart bumped hard against her sternum.
She wasn’t falling anymore. She had a death grip on a couple of vines, and she wasn’t letting go for anything.
You’re okay.
Take a breath. Stay calm. The bag she always carried pulled at her neck like a millstone.
Stay still? Or climb up?
It was dark as pitch below her, but she was pretty sure there were trees and rocks. Nothing she wanted to land on.
Up was her best bet.
Reach up, she ordered her right hand.
Her body refused to obey.
Do it!
Her right hand released the vine. Adrenaline shot through her veins.
Her hand shook as she reached up. A foot or so higher, she latched on to the vine once more. Then the other hand. Reach up. Higher! Grab on. Pull!
One methodical, achingly slow foot at a time, she pulled herself upward. Until she was within reach of the stone ledge.
Then the memory of the impact that had sent her over the edge paralyzed her.
What if someone was up there . . . waiting to push her again?
Her body trembled violently. Her fingers started to burn.
She had to do something.
Couldn’t keep hanging there.
She tried to look down . . . couldn’t see shit.
Up was her only option.
She reached up, hoped like hell no one stepped on her fingers. She clutched the ledge. Pulled. Her arms trembled. All she had to do now was turn loose of the vine and reach up with the other hand. No hesitation. Do it fast.
Using her right hand since it was strongest, she released the vine, grabbed the ledge. After a moment to steady herself, she reached and clawed and pulled with both hands until she hauled herself up, her arms quivering violently.
Sarah collapsed on the cold-as-ice stone floor and caught her breath.
She was okay.
Safe.
Not dead.
A new surge of adrenaline fired her blood.
Someone pushed me.
She rolled to her side. Shot to her feet.
Listen!
She peered through the darkness. Held her breath. Listened beyond the persistent pounding in her chest.
Silence.
Darkness.
Time to get the hell out of here.
Her legs wobbled, weak and seemingly boneless. After straightening her bag so that it no longer dragged at her neck, she crossed the stone floor, careful not to make a sound. She pulled out her cell phone and checked her service. Shit. No service.
Perfect.
As quickly as she dared, she moved down the slope. It wasn’t that far to her car. Whoever had pushed her evidently had taken off.
Probably just someone who wanted to scare her.
Yeah. Enough to kill her.
She stilled. She could have been killed. Dr. Ballantine’s warning about ending up a victim rang in Sarah’s ears.
Okay, but she hadn’t been. She was safe.
Keep walking.
Just get to the car.
Get out of here.
Not far now.
Something rustled to her right.
She darted left. What the hell?
She stilled. Listened.
More rustling. The soft crunch of snow.
Someone was close . . . coming in her direction.
Sarah couldn’t see a damned thing. She couldn’t turn on her flashlight. All the hell she could do was move as quickly as possible with her arms extended in front of her so she didn’t collide with a tree.
Faster.
She bumped a gnarled trunk. Pain streaked through her shoulder, across her chest. Shit.
The pepper spray was in her bag. Wait! No . . . keep going . . . don’t take time to look for it.
Move. Don’t stop. Don’t dare stop!
Don’t even slow down.
The sound behind her was louder now.
Closer.
Whoever was after her wasn’t taking his time.
How the hell could he see?
He had to know the area.
Heart pounding, she burst into a run.
Barely missed a head-on collision with another tree.
Don’t think. Feel. Run!
He was practically on top of her now.
She braced for impact.
Hands grabbed at her coat.
She slammed her elbow backward as hard as she could. The contact jarred all the way up to her shoulder.
A grunt told her she’d connected with something vulnerable.
The hands stopped clutching at her.
She rushed forward.
Stumbled.
Fell flat on her face in the underbrush and snow.
She scrambled to get up.
Strong fingers manacled her ankle.
She screamed.
The sound echoed through the woods.
She kicked at her attacker.
Twisting her body, she kicked harder.
She couldn’t see his face.
He wore a black ski mask. His eyes glittered.
She kicked hard at his head. Rammed a hand into her bag. Her fingers couldn’t locate the metal canister.
She kicked again.
He let go.
She scrambled to her feet.
Ran.
To hell with the trees.
She butted a tree trunk full-on. The air whooshed out of her lungs.
She shook herself, dragged in a breath.
Keep going.
Her head spinning, she moved around the tree.
Ran as fast as her legs would go.
She burst free of the woods.
The road.
Where was her car?
She turned around.
Couldn’t see it.
Screw it!
Run!
She didn’t know which way she was running. Toward Calderwood Lane or away from it. Was she even on Chapel Trail?
Didn’t matter.
Run!
Her feet flew out from under her.
Her butt hit the ground.
She scrambled up.
Keep running.
Faster.
Don’t look back.
Listen.
Hold your breath.
Listen!
The only sound was her own steps echoing behind her. Or was he still coming?
A burst of adrenaline sent fuel to her muscles. She lurched forward, tried to run faster still.
Her feet hit pavement.
She glanced around. Saw the green street sign.
Couldn’t read it. Had to be Calderwood Lane.
She lunged left.
Not daring to slow down, she dug her cell from her pocket.
Bars glowed.
Relief burst inside her.
Full service.
All she had to do was put through the call and hide until help arrived. She ducked for cover under a thick evergreen. Pulling up her contact list, she hit Conner.
The slap of soles on the pavement in the distance sent fear throttling through her.
He was coming.
Don’t even breathe.