“What are you doing?” she said.
“Waiting for you.”
“Get up.”
He stood, his back to her. “Are you all right?”
“Go on, keep moving.”
He continued along the trail and she followed. He was waiting for her? More like he was messing with her head, and doing a good job of it.
“The cabin’s not far,” he said.
She ignored him, knowing how these guys worked. They insinuated themselves into your psyche and destroyed you from the inside out. This guy was luring her with his father-of-the-year, single-parent story. She’d seen the wallpaper on his phone of two adorable girls with strawberry blonde hair and big smiles. This guy was a master.
They trekked the rest of the way in silence, Sara focusing on breathing through the pain and shutting out the panic taunting her from the fringes of her mind. She was in the middle of nowhere with an assassin, and her next step could be her last.
No, she was tough. Even if others didn’t believe it, she knew it in her heart.
If only she’d been tough when she was twelve.
They turned a corner to an open field with a cabin in the distance. Surely she’d be able to get a signal out there, in the middle of the field.
He marched in the direction of the cabin.
“Stop,” she said. She’d be a fool to let him go inside with her. No doubt that was where he kept his tools of the trade—coercion tools.
“Sit down, over there.” She jerked the gun barrel.
He sat down beside a fallen tree.
“You have rope in your pack?” she said.
“I do.”
“Get it.”
He unzipped his pack and pulled out what looked like parachute cord.
“Toss it over here. And put your hands behind your back,” she said.
He did, not making eye contact. With a fortifying breath, she grabbed the rope off the ground and climbed over the downed tree.
“Lean forward.”
He did as ordered. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
“You’re right, you won’t.”
She quickly bound his wrists behind his back, and secured him to a limb of the fallen tree. She stood and started walking.
“Drink some water,” he said. “It will help with the headache.”
“You can stop now.”
“The best cell reception is over there, by that cluster of boulders.” He nodded, ignoring her comment.
With determination and focus, she marched toward the field, on the other side of a narrow creek. That had to be the spot where she’d find a signal. It would also put her out in the open, making her vulnerable, an easy target. No, these guys usually worked alone. She checked his phone, hopeful and more than a little desperate, but she still had no bars.
She glanced up. A ray of sunlight bounced off the creek and pierced her vision. Pain seared through her brain. She snapped her eyes shut, but it was too late. A sudden migraine blinded her.
She stumbled forward. Had to get to...had to get service. Call her boss...
“What’s wrong?” Will shouted.
She broke into a slow jog. Had to get away from him. Get help.
Breathing through the pain, she stepped onto the rocks to cross the creek. One foot in front of the other. She could do it.
But she slipped, jerking forward. She put out her hands to break her fall.
And landed in the water with a splash.
The man’s shouts echoed in the distance.
She feared he would somehow free himself and finish her off.
She crawled through the creek, her soggy clothes weighing her down. Pain bounced through her head like a pinball.
With a gasp, she surrendered—to the pain, to her own failure—and collapsed into the cold, bubbling water.
Copyright © 2015 by Pat White
ISBN-13: 9781460389188
Perfect Alibi
Copyright © 2015 by Carlson Mgmt. Co., Inc.
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