Chapter 13
THIRTEEN
The first thing Lydia was aware of was the rocking motion of the SUV from the back seat where she lay. Her brain felt like it had been stuffed full of cotton balls. Her muscles were mush. Whatever she’d been injected with had knocked her out.
Her abductor must have been in a hurry. He’d not taken the time to tie her up. When she tried to sit up, it felt like a weight was attached to the back of her head.
She could see the man from the back, still wearing the mask that hid his face.
She couldn’t tell much about him. Was it Norm? She couldn’t be sure.
The SUV kept rolling over the hills. Stars twinkled in the dark night sky.
He must be taking her some place remote to kill her.
That had been the plan all along. Fear made it hard to take in a deep breath.
She turned on her side, feeling around on the floor of the back seat and under the seat.
She needed some kind of weapon for when he stopped.
Her hands touched something metal. A wrench.
The vehicle slowed down. Hiding the wrench underneath her body, she flipped over onto her stomach. The attacker must have thought that whatever he’d knocked her out with would last until he reached his destination. Playing along with his assumption would give her the element of surprise.
The SUV stopped.
The back door opened. She lay still, feigning unconsciousness. The wrench felt cold in her hand.
He pulled on her feet then flipped her over so that she was on her side and halfway out of the vehicle.
She sat up, smashing the wrench against his bent head three times. He stumbled backward. Clutching the wrench, she jumped out of the SUV. Her muscles were still weak. She could hear the sound of rushing water in the distance and see an evergreen forest off to the side.
The rumbling hum of the river grew louder as she ran. The man reached out and grabbed the back of her shirt. Angling sideways, she hit the man in the shoulder twice. He groaned in pain and let go of her. She sprinted through the darkness over rocks. The river was close.
The man came after her again, tackling her and knocking her to the ground. She dropped the wrench. Landing on her stomach, she tried to crawl away. He held on to her ankle. She picked up a rock, bent her body and threw it. It hit his shoulder. The distraction gave her time to scramble to her feet.
Gaining strength, she ran, still unable to see where she was going.
He grabbed her from behind. She swung around to free herself but stepped too close to the edge of the steep bank.
Lydia fell through the air and splashed into the cold water of the river.
She could see the man above her making his way down the steep incline.
The water pulled her under as the current carried her to the center of the river.
She gulped for air when the force of the river pushed her upward.
The attacker followed along the river’s edge.
She tried to swim toward the opposite bank. When the water grew shallower, she was finally able to stand up. Weighted by the water, her clothes dragged her down as she made her way to the shore.
When she looked over her shoulder, the dark figure was still pacing along the opposite bank.
Shivering, she dragged herself to her feet. She did not know who the attacker was, but she knew now, after being so close to him for so long, that it wasn’t Norm.
She bent over as she walked, trying to catch her breath.
The cold had seeped into her skin. The man had retreated to the SUV, but she didn’t see headlights go on.
He wasn’t leaving. The bang of a rifle shot caused her to fall on her belly.
He’d gotten his gun and was shooting at her from across the river.
She lay still, hoping the darkness would shield her.
Another bullet hit a rock in front of her.
The shot was close enough that it caused her whole body to jerk.
She crawled away from the riverbank. Two more shots were fired before she reached the brush that provided some cover.
When she peered over her shoulder, the SUV was no longer parked on the riverbank.
She feared that there was a bridge he could cross to come after her again.
Despite muscle fatigue and cold, she broke into a jog.
Lydia kept heading away from the river, stumbling through the dark. She had no idea where she was. She’d left her phone in her purse. How far had her abductor driven off the main road? Miles? She kept moving, searching for any sign of civilization, lights, a cabin, a camper.
The shivering intensified. She wrapped her arms over her chest as water dripped from her wet clothes.
Cold and bent over, she trudged forward. She may have escaped the attacker in the short term, but she was far from safe.
* * *
Fear sank into River’s chest like a knife when he heard the rifle shots far off in the distance. With Frankie in the lead, he ran toward where the sound had come from. Two other dogs and their handlers who were searching the same area came up behind him but remained spread out.
To keep up with Frankie, he burst into a sprint.
He could hear a river in the distance. The closer they got to the river, the faster Frankie and the other dogs moved. The hound behind him was baying, cutting through the silence of the night. Off to the side, a chopper flew overhead.
They arrived at the river. The intensity with which the K-9s rallied signaled that Lydia had come this way.
Frankie and the other dogs lead the handlers down a steep incline to the river’s edge.
All the K-9s moved back and forth along the shore.
The hound dove in until he was called back by his handler.
Task force member Maren Anderson came and stood by River with her Doberman, Haven.
“Do you think she went into the river?”
“It looks that way.” River pulled the walkie-talkie off his belt that he’d gotten from the search and rescue team. He knew the pilot of the chopper by name. “Ansel, can you touch down over by the river? I need to get across.”
“Can do,” said Ansel. “I think I see you on the ground there.” The chopper banked and then drew closer to them, its beating blades growing louder.
Even though they were spread out, none of the searchers or police officers had spotted the tan SUV. The glint of something shiny on the rocks caught River’s eye. He bent over and picked up a spent rifle shell. He saw another not too far from the first.
The shell could have been there from a long time ago, but he’d heard those shots. He stared off into the dark flowing water. Fear gripped his heart. Had she been shot and fallen into the river?
The idea made his breath catch. He couldn’t imagine a world without her. The chopper touched down, and he and Frankie got in. Another nose and set of eyes would be nice, but there was no room in the chopper for another K-9 and handler.
The chopper lifted off.
River spoke above the mechanical hum of the engine. “Stay close to the river for a bit. Then we’ll search farther away on the land.”
The pilot nodded.
The searchlights illuminated the dark flowing water below. When the pilot dropped elevation, River could see details on the trees and brush growing close to the river. He feared he would see Lydia’s body being pulled by the current or lying face down on the shore.
After they’d gone a sufficient distance without seeing anything, the pilot turned back around.
River continued to search while Ansel flew in a serpentine pattern, getting farther and farther away from the river. A white spot on the ground caught River’s attention.
“There.” Lydia had been wearing a white shirt. Her jacket and yoga pants were a darker color.
“I see it.” The chopper dropped down even more and moved toward the light-colored object. It was a shirt draped over a bush.
“Let Frankie and me out.”
“Give me a second here,” said Ansel. “I need to find a flat area to touch down.”
While he waited for the pilot to find a safe landing spot, River felt like an anaconda was wrapping itself around his chest, crushing all the air out of his lungs.
Lydia had to be down there. She had to be alive.
Yet if she was around here, she must’ve heard the helicopter.
Why hadn’t she come to an open area and waved her arms?
The chopper landed. River and Frankie jumped out.
Frankie took the lead as they moved in the direction River had seen the white shirt.
Everything looked different once he was on the ground.
Frankie seemed to know where she was going.
He’d trust her nose over his eyes. They entered a patch of brush.
It took some circling around to find the white shirt.
It was still wet, and it looked like the one she’d been wearing. She’d put the shirt out as a signal.
River shouted Lydia’s name as Frankie dashed ahead of him, disappearing into the brush. Frankie’s intense barking filled the air. Pushing through the thick brush, River ran toward the sound. He came to an open area. Frankie paced around Lydia, who lay on her side, not moving.
He let out the breath he’d been holding. They’d found her.
River dropped to the ground. Her skin was cold to the touch, but she had a pulse. She was alive.
She said something so quietly, he couldn’t understand it. He leaned closer to her mouth.
“You came for me,” she whispered.
He brushed a strand of wet hair out of her eyes. “’Course I did.” He pulled his walkie-talkie to speak to the pilot. “I found her. She’s in late-stage hypothermia. We need to get her to a medical facility ASAP.”
“I can’t move in any closer.”
“We’ll come to you.” He secured the walkie-talkie on his belt and leaned to help Lydia to her feet. Once she was standing, her knees buckled. He lifted her into his arms and carried her.
Her head rested again his chest.
She spoke in a soft voice. “I think I love you.”
River blinked. Where was that sentiment coming from? People with advanced hypothermia often hallucinated. He wondered if that was what was going on.
When they stepped through the brush, he could see the pilot running toward them, holding a litter. He laid Lydia in it and the two men carried her to the chopper, securing her in the back seat and covering her with a blanket. River sat in the copilot seat with Frankie squeezed in at his feet.
As the chopper took off, he craned his neck to look at Lydia. Pale and motionless, she looked more like a porcelain doll than a person. Lydia had been coherent enough to recognize him. She’d had the presence of mind to put out the shirt as a signal before putting her jacket back on and collapsing.
The helicopter ride seemed to take forever as they flew over treetops. A dirt road and then the paved road that led into Ridge came into view. The pilot radioed ahead to the hospital. When they touched down on the roof, a medical crew was waiting with a gurney.
They transferred Lydia’s limp body and hurried over to the elevator doors that said Medical Staff Only. The pilot took off while River and Frankie made their way down the stairs.
He prayed that it was not too late for Lydia.