by Lisa Jackson
“What’re you going to do? Shoot me? Jesus, you’re not serious,” she mocked.
It wasn’t the voice the leader expected.
What the hell is going on?
“You’re not Lauren,” the leader stated flatly as the five stepped back allowing him to see her face clearly for the first time.
The girl looked at him. “No shit, Sherlock. What’s this about? I didn’t do anything!”
The leader contained his fury with an effort and signaled his team to leave.
There was another way to track Lauren, he thought grimly. No more fooling around. No more game playing.
She was his.
Chapter Five
Lauren ran as if Lucifer himself were chasing her.
Faster! Faster! Faster!
Breathing hard, she wished to high heaven she’d brought a weapon. A knife or pistol or anything–even a damned slingshot, none of which she had.
Quit dreaming!
Hurry!
She raced through the dense forest, along a deer trail, using a tiny beam of her flashlight when she dared, her feet sometimes slipping on the ice and snow crusted over the hard terrain.
She was deep in the woods now, her breath coming in short bursts that fogged the night air, the darkness interrupted by the white expanse of snow.
Run, run, run!
Somewhere far off a coyote let out a lonely wail and goose bumps rose on her skin.
Keep going! Don’t slow down! The coyote’s probably miles away.
She hurried up a familiar hill. She’d done enough exploring in these rocky rises to know exactly which route to take, though she’d had second thoughts and had nearly backed out when she’d reached the end of the hall near the fire escape.
But she’d kept going.
Down the interior stairs she’d flown and restrained herself from pushing open the exterior door, her quickest path to freedom. Had she shouldered open the door, she would have woken the entire compound with the clanging of bells. Instead, feeling as if her every move was being observed by hidden eyes, she’d hurried past the first floor and into the basement, where bicycles were parked between the storage areas, fenced storage units filled with personal belongings. She’d hurried through the doorway near the mechanical room to an area stuffed with ping-pong tables and other sporting goods, to a far window, one that she’d been shown by Crysta who used this grimy window as a way to sneak out and meet her boyfriend. She’d stepped onto an old shipping trunk, unlatched the window and pushed it open. From there, it had been easy enough to slither through and pull her backpack with her.
Cold air had slapped her face and she’d reminded herself that her footprints would be visible in the snow. She’d had to have been careful, and had run over well used tracks, where other impressions had already been made, offering up a zigzagging course so she wouldn’t be discovered.
She’d checked to see that no one was around, that the snow-blanketed campus was quiet, then, sending up a quick prayer, she taken off at a dead run.
It all had worked because the basement was the only area of the entire building not surveyed by cameras. Of course it was only a matter of time before someone watched the security tape and saw her entering the stairwell. Eventually, they would find the window with its faulty latch and figure out how she’d escaped.
Too bad, Crysta.
Now, her breath was coming in short bursts, her lungs burning.
She wondered how much time she had before they came after her.
An hour?
Two?
“In your dreams,” she whispered.
He was probably already tracking her, following her. Using the damned dogs.
Her insides curdled at the thought of barking, snarling hounds.
Faster. Move it, Lauren!!! Ignore the pain. It’s just the cold and the incline. Don’t slow down!
Upward she raced, through the dark forest until at last the dense woods gave way to a clearing, a field of snow rimmed with trees.
Breathing hard, she turned off her flashlight and kept to the shadows, easing around the edge of the forest. Her nerves were strung tight, her heart a drum.
Snap!
She whirled around, facing the sound and the undergrowth rustled. Oh, no!
A shadow moved, then scurried away, a rabbit or some other small animal… “Oh, Lord.” She sank against the coarse bark of a conifer and gathered her wits.
She thought about the leader and her heart twinged just a little. She remembered flirting with him; at first it was a ruse, but later… oh, God, later she’d nearly lost her heart to the sexy man with his own personal code of ethics; his mission.
Don’t even go there. You used him. He used you. You’re even.
But she couldn’t deny the tiny bit of regret that slid through her mind.
Maybe he’ll let you go.
He cares for you. You know that.
Pushing herself to run even more swiftly, she nearly laughed out loud. What an idiot! She gave herself a swift mental kick for being foolish, one of those love-lorn teenagers who believe anything, even fairy tales. Love had nothing to do with what was happening now. He couldn’t let her go.
She knew too damned much.
The jump-drive in her backpack was testament to that.
Besides, he was a monster, pure evil, his heart as black as sin.
She was gasping for breath by the time she reached the caves. Flicking on her tiny flashlight again, she knelt, then crawled inside, all the while praying she didn’t come across a hibernating bear or snake or whatever.
She’d been to these caves twice before. In both instances she had been left in the forest to fend for herself. Once because of some kind of archaic cleansing touching-God-and-nature exercise that hadn’t taken. The second time she’d been left here, punished, for stating her opinion about Reverend Lynch’s sermon on faith versus fact. Her arguments had been vehement, to the point of “disrespect” or “sacrilege” and she’d been sent to the forest in order that she see the wickedness of her ways.
It was all such BS!
Her breathing and heartbeat finally began to slow as she crawled forward, past the charred logs near the entrance that were testament to a long-ago campfire, the smell of smokey ash lingering in the air, the walls of the cave blackened by smoke. She slid deeper into the space between the rocks, forced to her knees and then onto her stomach as she inched under the wide shelf that was barely a foot off the ground. Squeezing through, she found herself in a much larger cavern with a ceiling that soared twenty feet or more where a colony of bats slept and stalactites dangled like the long teeth of some enormous creature.
Her skin crawled and she chided herself for the eerie sensation that brought the hairs at the back of her neck to attention. Quickly, she headed along one rough wall where the cracks in the rocks were wide enough to pass through.
Hurry, hurry, hurry!
Though the school was only accessible by air or by one, isolated, gated road, the river ran freely through the mountains. On one of the nature hikes, she’d looked down from a rocky ridge and seen not only the snake-like path of the Blue Rock River as it wound its way through the forest, but also the glimpse of a bridge some two miles to the south.
It wouldn’t be easy.
The hike would be arduous and slow-going, but once she crossed the bridge she intended to keep close to the network of logging roads that cut through these forested acres. Eventually, if she headed steadily downhill, following the river, she would find civilization and safety.
Unless he catches up to you.
Don’t even think that way.
No negative thoughts. Remember?
Fueled by fear, she pressed on quietly, disturbing nothing, moving through the narrow canyons. Finally, she felt a breath of fresh air. A few steps further and she heard the sound of water rushing through the canyons.
Her heart thudded in anticipation.
For the first time she allowed herself the luxury of thinking she w
ould make it!
The breeze was colder, faster, blowing her hair away from her face. She slid through a final crack in the stone wall and eased onto a narrow outside ledge. Far below, discernible only because of pale moonlight on the snowy banks, a black ribbon of water sliced furiously through the ravine.
Lauren slowly let out her breath. She only had to inch across the ledge, less than twenty feet to another crack in the sheer wall of stone. Once on the far side of this narrow shelf, she would be able to slide through the opening and connect with a path that serpentined through the forest to the narrow canyon floor.
But one misstep on the ledge and she’d fall.
Don’t go there–not for a second.
She stepped onto the ledge.
One foot, then the other. Hugging the wall, easing sideways, she concentrated on the short distance.
Another step. And another.
Only fifteen feet and you’ll reach the forest! You can do this, Lauren, you can. Piece of damned cake!
The coyote howled plaintively. He was closer now, his cry muting the sound of her own rapid heartbeat and the dull roar of the river knifing through these bleak hills.
Another step.
Less than twelve feet now.
One more.
You’ve got to be halfway! Only ten more feet—
Scrrraaaape!
The noise was out of place.
Your imagination! Keep going!
One more step.
Thud! Thud-thud! Thud! Thud-thud!
Her heart nearly stopped.
Footsteps?
No way! It’s all in your head all–
“Hey!” a deep male voice echoed through the canyon.
What? Jesus, no!
She froze. Flattened herself to the rugged canyon wall. Prayed she was mistaken, that the sounds were all her own paranoia. Barely daring to breathe, her ears straining, her heartbeat thundering through her brain, she listened hard.
What was it?
Nothing! It wasn’t anything—
From the corner of her eye, she saw movement. A shift in the darkness of the cave from which she’d just exited. She flicked off her flashlight.
Thud. Thud-thud. Thud. Thud-thud.
Not footsteps, she realized with a sinking sensation, but horses’ hooves thundering and shaking the ground overhead on the ridge some thirty feet above her!
Damn!
He’d found her!
She took another step, nearly fell and caught herself, her face pressed into the frozen dirt and rock of this cliff.
Silently she prayed to a god she didn’t trust that a cloud would cover the moon.
Moon-shmoon, idiot. He has night vision goggles! Oh, God!
She had to keep moving. If she could just reach the space where the ledge ended and connected to the path leading downward, she might be able to dive into the woods and elude the riders. On horseback, they would have to find a trail in the woods on higher ground, then pick their way downward. She still had a head start! If she could reach the river before they caught up with her, she might find a way to safety.
You can do this, Lauren, you know you can!
If she had to, she could swim, though she wouldn’t last long in the near-freezing water.
Go! Go! Go!
Moving again, sidling toward the forest, she heard the first bone-chilling howl.
The dogs!
A horrible cacophony of echoing barks erupted from the caves! The dogs weren’t with the riders on the ridge overhead with the horsemen, but had made their way along the very trail she’d taken through the caverns.
Thud, thud-thud! Thud, thud-thud.
Still the horsemen came.
The noises around her crescendoed, hideous howls rising like the voices of demons in the night, heavy hooves shaking the ground overhead.
Just go!
Another step.
She let out her breath.
One more.
Almost there!
Her toe connected with a rock, sending it reeling.
No!
Lauren nearly stumbled, but caught herself and froze, flattening herself against the sheer rock wall. Fear clawed its way down her spine and she started to hyperventilate.
Don’t go there! You can do this! You can!
The baying rose, louder and louder through the caverns, sending shivers down her spine as the deep thud of hooves resounded, then stopped abruptly.
She glanced up, to a point where the ledge extended further over the canyon and she saw him: a tall man astride a dark horse, his silhouette just visible in the night.
Her heart twisted.
She didn’t dare breathe, couldn’t move.
Don’t panic! Do NOT–
Another rider appeared to rein up next to the first.
Oh, no…
A third horseman joined the other two.
She was doomed. And the dogs, their excited yips and bays sounded closer!
Lauren, don’t give up… do not give up! You are so damned close… just ease your way to the end of the ledge. Don’t make any quick movements. That’s it. Easy does it.
Hugging the cliff face, she forced herself toward the space in the rocks where she knew the deer trail was.
Five more feet.
Four!
Only three!
For a sweet second she thought she had made it.
The forest was her salvation.
She let out her breath as she was within a foot of the far side of the span and knowing it was a mistake, risked one last glance overhead and saw the glint of moonlight on his rifle, already poised at his shoulder, aimed straight at her.
Bastard!
He wouldn’t… couldn’t!
Craaaack!
The rifle’s report resounded through the wilderness.
The dogs went crazy, bellowing and baying.
Just over her head, the bullet hit, pebbles flying, dirt spraying onto her head.
Desperate, she gambled, flinging herself toward the end of the ledge.
Blam!
The rifle blasted again.
She flinched as the bullet struck the canyon wall, inches from her head.
Her feet slid out from under her.
No–don’t fall!
The weight of her backpack pulled her toward the edge.
Terror-riddled, she clawed the air, grabbing wildly for the branch of the only tree that was close, a scraggly pine. Her fingers caught on the rough limb, but it was too late. She started to fall. Screaming, she clung to the branch, feeling the needles slide through her fingers.
Hang on!
But her weight dragged her down, bowing the limb.
Terror consumed her as she dangled precariously over the edge.
Crazily she kicked out, trying to brace her feet on the cliff, scrambling to climb up, but it was no use. Her desperate grip slipped, needles and bark scraping her palms.
With a horrifying crack the branch peeled away from the pine’s trunk.
Oh, please God, no…
Her prayer was much too late.
Shrieking in terror, Lauren Conway plunged into the yawning abyss of Blue Rock Canyon.
Other e-books by Lisa Jackson
If you enjoyed this book, you might also be interested in other e-books by Lisa Jackson. Following, please find a small selection of her vast catalog that might interest you.
Without Mercy
Ever since her father was stabbed to death in a home invasion, Julia “Jules” Farentino has been plagued by nightmares. Her half-sister, Shaylee, now seventeen, has had her own difficulties since the tragedy, earning a rap sheet for drug use, theft, and vandalism. Still, when Jules learns of her mother’s decision to send Shay to an elite boarding school in Oregon, she’s skeptical. The Academy has a reputation for turning wayward kids around—but one of its students went missing six months ago and her body has never been found. There are rumors she may have died during one of the school’s questionable treatments. Once en
rolled, Shay grows fearful, convinced her every move is being watched. And the deeper Jules digs, the more concerned she becomes.
On impulse, Jules applies for a teaching job at the Academy. Though the facility boasts state-of-the-art equipment and a breathtaking campus, Jules senses cracks in the director’s do-good demeanor. Shortly before Jules arrived, a student was found hanged, and a hysterical Shay believes it was murder. Staff members are wary and unwelcoming—all except Cooper Trent, another recent hire who has his own suspicions, and his own secrets.
Then another girl goes missing, and yet another is found dead. There’s no doubt something sinister is at hand—but Jules may be too late to stop it. Behind the Academy’s idyllic veneer lurks an evil force on a brutal and terrifying mission. And Jules has become the next target of a bloodthirsty killer without limits, without remorse, without mercy…
Get your copy now…
Devious
The crime scene at St. Marguerite’s cathedral in New Orleans is shocking, even to seasoned detectives like Rick Bentz and Reuben Montoya. A novice nun named Sister Camille has been found dressed in a yellowed bridal gown and viciously garroted, her body covered with an altar cloth.
Valerie Houston is devastated by her sister’s death. For weeks, she’d begged Camille to leave St. Marguerite’s, where she seemed determined to live as some kind of martyr. But Camille had a knack for making bad choices—she joined the convent in part because she’d fallen for Val’s soon-to-be ex-husband, Slade.
Convinced the police aren’t doing enough, Val begins to investigate. Slade, on a mission to repair their marriage, is determined to help her. But the deeper Val’s inquiries go, the more twisted the case becomes. St. Marguerite’s is far from the tranquil retreat many believe, and everyone, from handsome Father Frank O’Toole to the mysterious Mother Superior, has their own agenda. Despite their closeness, even Camille had a hidden life Val never suspected. But someone knew about Camille’s past--and Val’s, too. Now she has no choice but to catch a devious, depraved killer intent on purging St. Marguerite’s of all its sins—before she becomes the next victim…
