Chapter Twenty-Nine
Zoe hit the steep ground feetfirst. Something snapped.
Pain slammed through her ankle and exploded through her leg from foot to hip.
But she had no time to register the injury or agony.
She pinwheeled down the slope, slamming into tree trunks and rocks, sliding on the wet earth.
She tried to tuck her arms and legs close to her body, but it was impossible to control her descent in any way.
She was at the mercy of gravity. Something sliced her face.
She tumbled into thicker underbrush. Branches snagged at her limbs and slowed her progress.
She reached out for a tree root. Her fingers closed on it.
Momentum carried her past, but she hung on.
Pain ripped through her hand as her body weight tore at her grasp, her skin tearing.
Blood made her grip slick. Her weight hit her outstretched arm, pulling at her shoulder.
She flung a second hand upward and caught the root.
Her body finally came to a stop. She propped a boot on a slick rock, bracing herself and enabling her to release her two-handed grip on the protruding tree root.
With her momentum halted, she wouldn’t fall any farther if she stayed down.
She pressed her body into the earth and panted.
Her right leg was on fire. Tiny pinpricks danced in front of her eyes, even when they were closed.
She couldn’t see in the dark, but she knew her ankle was broken.
Maybe it was best she couldn’t see it. She had to keep moving.
At this point, all she could hope was that the break was not an open fracture because she couldn’t stay here.
Had she really seen Sharp in the cabin, or had that been her imagination? Her brain replayed the split-second interaction. Most of her view had been blocked by Tim, but she’d seen someone who looked like Sharp.
It must have been real. Why else would Tim have jumped off the deck? If Sharp was in the cabin, that meant he was looking for her. Was Olivia with him? Zoe wasn’t sure if rainwater or tears were blurring her vision, but she blinked to clear her eyes.
Rain slicked her hair. If she hadn’t been wearing tactical hiking clothes and a waterproof jacket, she’d be soaked to the skin.
Still, she shivered. The temperature had dropped at least ten degrees.
If Tim didn’t kill her, hypothermia would.
But the roar of the downpour was probably the only thing keeping Tim from hearing her breathless panting.
A bolt of fear shot through her.
Where is Tim?
He had to be close by. They’d started at the same place.
Looking up, she couldn’t see the cabin through the trees.
How far had she rolled down the slope? Maybe seventy-five feet?
It had felt like a mile, but she hadn’t tumbled all the way to the road.
The driveway was only about a hundred feet long, so she couldn’t have tumbled farther than that. Where did he stop?
She didn’t bother to consider whether he’d died in the fall.
Only the good die young.
Evil seemed to provide protection. She had no doubt he’d survived. That bastard would be as hard to kill as Michael Myers.
Be quiet, or he’ll find you in a second.
She tried to control her breathing. Memories of him grabbing her and pulling her off the deck replayed over and over. Panic and pain were driving her toward hyperventilating. If she panicked, she’d die. He would find her, and he would kill her.
But how could she get away? Fuck him. She hadn’t survived all these years to surrender now. She refused to make killing her easy. No. If she died, she’d go down fighting.
Which meant she couldn’t stay in the first place he’d look for her.
She needed to move. She breathed and assessed her injures.
She ached everywhere, but other than the broken ankle, the rest of her body felt intact.
If Sharp and possibly Olivia were at the cabin, then Zoe had to get to them.
They must have a vehicle, one that had made it up the mountain. They could get her down.
Carefully, slowly, she eased onto her belly, then pushed up onto one knee.
If she had two good legs, scrambling up the slope would have been difficult, but possible.
With a broken ankle, it was going to be a nightmare.
She took one crawling step upward. The pain that sliced through her ankle blinded her.
The woods spiraled. She stopped, wheezing and trembling.
On her hands and knees, she vomited into the mud.
When her stomach was empty, she dry-heaved a few more times, then rolled back to the muddy ground.
There was no way she could climb-crawl up seventy-five feet at this incline.
She wasn’t even sure she could go down. Maybe she could slip on the wet ground?
She rolled onto her good side and let herself slide a couple of inches.
The pain blasted her again but didn’t threaten to make her pass out.
She maneuvered around a small tree, making sure to not allow her broken ankle to touch anything.
Once clear, she used tree roots and rocks as handholds and slipped a few inches at a time.
As needed, she stopped to navigate around trees and rocks.
She paused to catch her breath. The effort of her slow descent was staggering. Rain poured over her head and invaded her jacket. Her shirt beneath was fleece, so it wouldn’t hold water. But the moisture on her skin would still accelerate hypothermia.
As she reached for another handhold, something cracked nearby.
Zoe froze, her heart slamming in her chest like an animal that wanted out of a cage.
Something crunched in the underbrush.
Zoe stared into the gloom. Panic-sweat gathered under her layers.
Tim?
She couldn’t run. What were her other options? She only had one legitimate chance.
Hide!
She crawled, the hairs on the back of her neck rising, fear churning in her belly. Her hands shook as she dragged herself away from the noise.
It kept coming. Shuffle. Shuffle. Scrape.
Zoe pulled herself on the ground. Her useless leg dragged. In the darkness, her ankle struck something hard. She curled on her side and jammed her fist in her mouth to stop herself from screaming.
A twig snapped.