Chapter 47 #2
Lynda grabbed Sarah’s hair. Pain erupted and Sarah screamed. They rolled. Sarah punched and kicked. Lynda pulled her hair harder, banged her head against the rocks.
Sarah’s hold on the bitch loosened as blackness threatened. The pain was overwhelming.
She was going to die.
“That’s right,” Lynda taunted as she settled astride Sarah’s stomach. “Die!”
No damned way.
Sarah bucked. Lynda wasn’t expecting the move.
She reeled sideways. Sarah bucked harder.
Flung her body weight against her enemy, then rolled.
Sarah was suddenly on top. Lynda reached frantically for the knife.
One hand on the bitch’s throat, Sarah reached out with the other and snagged the knife.
She settled her weight fully on the woman’s chest, using her thighs to trap the bitch’s arms against her sides.
She smiled at the panic in Lynda’s eyes. “Now who’s going to die?”
Rage rushed through Sarah’s limbs, making her stronger. Making her want to kill this bitch more than she’d ever wanted anything in her life.
If your first instinct is to kill . . .
Pope’s words echoed in Sarah’s head.
She hesitated. Stared into the face of the bitch who had killed three people, two of whom had been innocent victims . . . she had terrorized an entire village. She had been prepared to kill Sarah . . .
She tossed the knife aside.
Lynda grinned with triumph. “I knew you couldn’t do it.”
“Shut the hell up.” Sarah grabbed two handfuls of the bitch’s hair and banged her head against the rocks a couple of times. When her eyes rolled back in their sockets, Sarah figured that was enough.
But she wasn’t taking any chances. Keeping one hand on the bitch’s neck, she reached for the duct tape lying on the ground.
She grabbed the end between her teeth and pulled a good length free, then tore it off.
She scooted backward, manacled her prisoner’s hands together.
As she tore off another length of tape, Lynda came to enough to try and fight.
Sarah banged her head against the rock twice more, and Lynda went lax.
“Bitch,” Sarah muttered.
She wound the tape around Lynda’s wrists several times before doing the same to her ankles. She didn’t bother taping her mouth shut. If she woke up, let her scream.
Sarah moved over to the chief, checked for a pulse. Nothing. She put her cheek to his face, felt for breathing. Nothing. Her head still spinning, Sarah attempted CPR until she became too groggy. Still no pulse.
Shit.
The pills. She had to find help. Sarah tried to stand. Didn’t make it.
Wait. The chief would have a radio or cell phone. Sarah dug around in his pockets. No radio . . . her fingers wrapped around what felt like a phone, and relief rushed through her. She could call for help once she got outside.
She managed to stand and then stagger toward what she hoped was the mouth of the cave.
The ground tilted under her feet. The rock walls moved and shook.
By the time she was outside, it was almost impossible to keep her eyes open.
She fumbled with the chief’s phone. Kept dropping it. What the hell?
The pills. Shit.
Sarah dropped the phone and did the only thing she could. She shoved her fingers down her throat. She gagged. Repeated the process. Then she puked.
One more time. Gag. Puke.
Hopefully she’d gotten rid of some of those damned pills.
Groggy as hell, she reached for the phone again. Couldn’t make it work. Shit! The keypad was locked. Her heart thumped. She didn’t know the right password or code.
Damn it!
Get up. Walk. Find help!
Sarah struggled to her feet. After three attempts, she managed to stand.
One foot in front of the other.
Again.
Keep going.
Her mouth felt dry. The ground kept moving. Her vision was narrowing.
“Damn.”
She fell forward in the snow. Told herself to turn her head to the side so she could breathe.
Maybe she did . . . maybe she didn’t . . . she couldn’t say for sure.
She thought about Kale Conner and his family . . . about how it felt to be with him . . . she should have been nicer to him . . .
She must have turned her head, because she could see the moon reflected in the water. She could hear her heart beating. Slower and slower.
She was dying.
Don would be pissed.
Her shrink would nod and say she suspected it would happen.
Kale would be sad.
Something hot rolled over her nose and onto her cold, cold cheek where it rested against the snow.
A tear.
Shit.
Then Sarah did something she hadn’t done since she was nine years old . . . she prayed.
Please, God . . . let Kale come find me.
“Sarah.”
Her lids fluttered helplessly. Had someone said her name?
“Sarah, wake up.”
Sarah struggled to force her lids open. Finally she managed a narrow crack. She smiled. “Matilda.” Sarah licked her lips. Her mouth was so dry. “I thought you were gone.”
“You needed me.”
Sarah tried to laugh, but the sound was more a grunt. “No shit. I think I might be dead already.” As if on cue, her lids grew too heavy to keep open.
“Stay awake, Sarah!”
Sarah jerked at the loud command. Her lids fluttered open again.
“You have to stay awake,” Matilda told her. “If you go to sleep, you won’t wake up. Ever.”
“Sorry . . .” Sarah needed a drink of water. “I can’t . . .”
“Stay awake, Sarah. I’ll send help.”
Silence echoed around Sarah. She focused on opening her eyes once more. She blinked. Where was Matilda? Had she imagined her?
Sarah tried to stay awake like Matilda said . . . but she just couldn’t . . .
Funny . . . she was pretty sure she was dead since she couldn’t feel her heart beating anymore.
She couldn’t feel anything . . .