by Sharon Dunn
“I’ll show you.” Henry took off from the campsite deeper into the woods.
Each step into the thick forest caused the tension to ratchet up inside her. Her stomach clenched. She was alone in the forest with a man, and the other people were far away. She struggled to get a deep breath.
Henry pointed to a break in the tree line. “He came charging right through there.”
Henry clearly meant her no harm, and yet she couldn’t let go of the fear that something bad was about to happen. She cleared her throat. “Okay, why don’t you show me which way he went back into the camp?” Back to where the other people were.
Henry wrinkled his forehead. “Are you all right?”
She struggled to find her professional composure. “Yes, I’m fine. Let’s get back to the camp.” She squared her shoulders even though her stomach was still doing somersaults. Why was she falling apart over nothing?
She hurried back toward the more populated part of the campground. An uproar of screams burst out from the crowd.
Someone yelled, “He’s back.”
A thunderous crashing from pounding hooves and the breaking of tree branches surrounded her. More cries and screams erupted from the crowd. The moose broke through the trees and charged toward her. She and Henry hit the ground in opposite directions as the animal lumbered past her.
She turned to see the tail end of the moose disappear into some trees. Her heart pounded. Footage of the moose would be beyond perfect for this story. She didn’t have her news camera but she had her phone.
She jumped to her feet and ran toward where the moose had gone. Adrenaline charged through her. This was what she loved.
“Careful, they’re mean.” Henry’s words pummeled her back.
Her focus was only on getting the shots she needed. She sprinted into an open meadow where the moose had slowed its pace. It snorted and jerked its head. She pulled her phone out of her pocket and clicked to the video camera.
The moose trotted forward as she lined up the shot. Keeping the moose in the frame, she sidestepped while holding the phone steady.
“Beautiful.”
The moose stopped and turned in her direction. He snorted and lowered his head, giving her what seemed to be a challenging look. She kept filming. Arms wrapped around her and pulled her to one side. Zach.
She couldn’t hide her ire. “You messed up my footage.”
The moose stopped short of charging her and disappeared into the trees.
Zach grabbed her arms. His face was close to hers. “What were you thinking? He could have trampled you.”
His anger scared her—and that made her annoyed with herself, causing her to snap at him.
“I was thinking I was getting the shot no one else had.” She pulled away from him. “That’s what I was thinking.”
“You could’ve died,” Zach said.
The rest of the crowd, including Neil Thompson and his cameraman, emerged from the trees.
“I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, Zach. But don’t interfere with my work.” She spoke just above a whisper, not wanting the crowd to know they’d been fighting.
She whirled around and walked away from him, rubbing her arms where he’d grabbed her. She stomped past Neil.
“Did you get footage of the moose?”
Feeling triumphant, she held up her phone. “The one and only.” Elizabeth hurried through the remainder of her work. She set up her camera, did her intro, interviewed Henry and took a few shots of the torn tents and scattered dishes the moose had left in the wake of his escapade.
She spotted Zach several times as he finished up his story. She knew he’d grabbed her to protect her, but it still had brought back a ten-year-old fear and the memory of Craig Miller squeezing her arm so hard it bruised. She put her camera gear back in the van.
What bothered her even more was that the stalker had nothing to do with this news story and yet his threat affected her emotionally and made it hard for her to do her job.
She was the first of the news people to finish up and get her gear loaded. Neil was still wandering around doing interviews. Total overkill. He’d have miles of footage. The producer would have to decide what was useful. Neil wasn’t the brightest light in the room. She wondered how he had managed to dig up the information about what had happened to her in college.
She pulled out onto the winding road. Her van whizzed past forest and steep embankments that led down to the river. She’d driven for about five minutes when she noticed the black truck following closely behind her. Her heart fluttered. She sped up. The truck remained close to her bumper. One bump and he could run her off the steep road.
* * *
Zach packed up his gear and jumped into the car he’d gotten for cheap, mentally berating himself for messing up. He’d wanted to be more of a support to Elizabeth with her first story since the assault. Instead, he’d interfered and made her mad.
When he’d seen the moose charging in her direction, the instinct to protect had kicked into high gear. Would he have done the same thing if it had been any other reporter in the same situation? Probably not. His affection for her made him impulsive.
He turned his car toward the country road. His intent wasn’t to mess up her footage. The truth was he cared about her, maybe as more than a friend. But any affection he had for her came up against how guarded she was. Friends would be the most he could hope for.
He increased his speed down the country road headed toward the winding mountain that would lead him back into town. Elizabeth’s default position for running away from emotion seemed to be to throw herself into her work. He wished he understood why.
His phone pinged indicating he had a text. He glanced over at it on console where it was propped up. The message was from Elizabeth.
Someone is following me.
Adrenaline shot through him as he gripped the wheel. He pressed on the accelerator.
Unless she’d been headed to another story, she had to be on the same road as him. He’d watched her pull out. She had maybe a five-minute head start on him.
He hugged a corner, catching a glimpse of the steep, rocky embankment. Once he was free of the curve, he increased his speed and prayed that he wouldn’t reach Elizabeth too late.
NINE
Elizabeth snuck another look into her rearview mirror. The black truck remained glued to her bumper but still hadn’t made the move to pass her or run her off the road.
Her heart pounded and her hands were sweaty where she held on to the steering wheel. The news van didn’t have a back window. Her view of the truck was limited to the side mirror.
The road straightened, and she increased her speed. She took in a breath to calm her rattled nerves. The truck kept pace with her.
She went even faster as panic roiled through her.
Stay calm.
No matter what she did, she couldn’t shake the truck.
The curve came up suddenly, and she fought to compensate. She lifted her foot off the accelerator and swung the van into the other lane. But it wasn’t enough.
The accident seemed to happen in slow motion. The van became airborne, slammed into the rocky embankment and rolled down the hill.
Her world clattered and shook. Elizabeth felt as though she’d had the wind knocked out of her. She opened her eyes to peer through a broken windshield. Water rushed over her. She lifted her head so she could breathe.
The van was upside down in a river. She strained her neck to keep it above water. She tried to sit up, but couldn’t. She couldn’t move one of her arms.
She heard the sound of feet swishing through the water, approaching the van, but her vision was limited. Her neck hurt from the effort of holding her head up.
“Help me.” She fumbled around for the seat belt with
her free hand but couldn’t reach it.
Whoever was moving through the water drew closer. She turned her head as far as she could. She could see boots, nothing else. The man stood in front of the van window for a long time.
She was trapped. If this was her stalker, he could kill her if he wanted to.
The broken glass of the van window distorted her view of his black rubber boots. Her heart pounded. She fought harder to free herself from the seat belt. He stood there, not moving and not speaking for what felt like a day.
The longer he lingered, the more terrified she became.
Finally, he turned and walked away. She listened to the sound of his feet swishing through the water. A few minutes later, she heard a truck start up. Why hadn’t he killed her or kidnapped her when he had the chance?
How long could she wait here holding her head above water before she tired? She didn’t think she’d be able to last long, not with the blow to her head from the crash that made it hard to even hold her eyes open. Would Zach be able to find her in time?
* * *
From the high point on the mountain, Zach was able to see sections of the winding road below him. He’d seen a black truck, but not the KBLK news van. He pressed on the accelerator, pushing the car to its limit on the narrow road.
He caught a glinting flash in his peripheral vision as he whizzed by where the river came close to the road. He pulled out on the first shoulder he saw, hit the brakes and jumped out of the car. He sprinted back to where morning sun had reflected off metal in the river.
His heart seized. The news van was upside down in the river. He raced down the rocky incline and splashed through the water. He kneeled beside the broken window of the van. Though shadows covered the interior, he could make out Elizabeth’s head half covered in water.
His throat went tight.
Her eyes were closed, and she wasn’t moving.
He reached in and lifted her lifeless head.
Oh, dear God, no.
He pulled a pocketknife out of the sheath on his belt and cut her free of the seat belt. She was like a rag doll in his hands as he dragged her free of the van, lifted her into his arms and carried her to a sandy spot by the river.
His fingers touched the side of her neck. Her pulse pressed back against his fingers, but she wasn’t breathing. He pushed on her stomach just below the rib cage, counting out the rhythm, careful not to press into her bruised ribs. Then he tilted her neck and placed his lips on hers to breathe into her mouth.
His vision blurred as a flashback invaded his awareness, remembering dropping his gear and racing toward an injured soldier lying in the desert sand. He’d tried to revive the man but the soldier had died in Zach’s arms beneath the blistering sun.
He pushed past the agony the memory brought with it and focused on Elizabeth’s beautiful face. Again, he went through the CPR steps. Praying with each push below her rib cage and then sealing his lips over hers.
Finally, blessedly, she sputtered and coughed up water. Her eyes grew wide and then she wrapped her arms around him and wept.
“I thought... I thought I was...”
He held her close and stroked her wet hair. “It’s all right. Everything’s going to be okay.”
She held on to him tighter and sobbed.
He kept his arms around her until the crying subsided. She pulled away, wiping the tears off her face. She bent her head and looked away, maybe embarrassed over the intense display of emotion.
“Sorry, guess I lost it,” she said, still not making eye contact.
He touched her shoulder lightly. “Anybody would have.” He shifted so he was sitting cross-legged.
She folded her arms over her body. She was soaking wet. He’d managed to stay dry except for his shoes and the lower half of his pants. He pulled his coat off and placed it on her shoulders.
She drew it to her neck, eyes filled with warm gratitude. “Thank you.”
A car stopped on the road above them. She tilted her head. “Oh, great, it’s Neil Thompson.”
Zach glanced up to see a cameraman already filming the news van. “Come on, let’s get you out of here. We can make arrangements for the van to be towed.” He held an arm out for her.
She was still visibly shaken from her near-death experience, and Neil showing up only seemed to agitate her more.
She stumbled. He wrapped an arm around her waist and helped her up the rocky incline. Neil stomped toward them, microphone in hand, and gestured for his cameraman to film her.
She held up her hand. “I’m not talking to you.”
“I’m thinking of doing a feature piece on accident-prone news reporters,” said Neil.
“Shut it, Neil.” Zach could feel his anger simmering as he escorted Elizabeth toward his car.
“Just one statement.” Neil scurried behind them.
Zach opened the door for Elizabeth and hurried around to the driver’s side. Neil gave up and returned to his news van.
Zach pulled off the shoulder and headed down the road.
Elizabeth craned her neck. “When is he going to give up?”
“When he overtakes you in the ratings, so...probably never. He just doesn’t have the skills you have, so he has to be a slimeball.”
She slipped her arms through his coat. “My boss isn’t going to be happy about that news van.”
“So that truck ran you off the road?”
She shook her head. “That’s just the thing—the truck didn’t have to. I panicked and didn’t use good judgment as soon as I saw him behind me. It’s like he’s inside my head. I almost couldn’t do that stupid moose story because of what he said and the things he’s done.”
“Boy, if someone wanted to destroy your career, this would be the way to do it,” Zach said.
She lifted her head. “Stop the car. Pull over.”
“What is it?”
Neil’s news car pulled in beside her.
She pushed open the door and rushed toward Neil. Zach got out of the car, curious as to what realization had compelled her to make him stop. He was a little fearful that she might just punch Neil Thompson’s perfect face.
Neil stood by his car. “Did you change your mind?”
“How did you know about what happened to me in college?” She blasted Neil with the question.
Neil smiled his perfect-teeth grin. “I did my research.”
Zach drew a little closer. Elizabeth tilted her head to one side and narrowed her eyes as though she didn’t believe Neil.
Neil raised his hands. “All right. I got a tip and then I did my research.”
“You don’t know the source?”
He shook his head. “It was anonymous.” He crossed his arms. “So I gave you something. How about we do a little feature on your accident?”
“Yes, because that would make me look so professional.” She turned on her heel and headed back to the car. Zach followed her.
He pulled back out on the road and waited for her to explain. Neil remained behind them but followed at a safe distance.
Finally, she spoke. “That thing you said about someone wanting to destroy my career made me think.”
“You think Neil has something to do with this?”
“Maybe. I’m not sure if he’s helping my attacker or if my attacker is helping him. Or if it’s all just a coincidence. But everything that has happened is making it hard for me to do my job.” She shook her head. “I don’t get this stalker. He had a chance to either kidnap or kill me there in the river and he did neither. Instead, he just made me really afraid.”
The car rumbled down the road as a tense silence settled between them. She stared at her hand, turning it back and forth. She must be thinking deeply.
“I wonder if Neil really did do the research
to find out about Seattle,” she said.
Zach didn’t know how to respond. He’d picked up on the intensity behind each word when she spoke about college. He certainly hadn’t come across any scandal about her and he was pretty sure he was a better researcher than Neil.
After a long moment, she said, “I suppose you’d like to know what Neil was talking about?”
“Only if you want to tell me.”
She laced her hands together and rested her lips against them. “If we can find a place to pull the car over—”
“I think there is a picnic area at the bottom of the mountain,” he said.
He drove around the curve and pulled out to an area that overlooked the river.
He waited for her to speak first.
She twisted a strand of her red hair and spoke without looking at him. “I was date-raped my senior year of college by a man named Craig Miller. He’s a lawyer in Seattle now. He never went to jail. The case never even went to trial.”
The information barely sank in before he felt his rage rise up against the man who had done such a thing to her. Now he understood why she was so guarded around him.
“I already had a part-time reporter job with a news station. They kept it quiet, but the college newspaper covered it extensively. My name got leaked.” She turned slightly away from him. “I needed a fresh start, and a little while later, my dad got sick. It seemed like a good time to come home.”
He touched her shoulder lightly. “I’m so sorry.”
She didn’t pull away from his touch. Instead, she placed her hand on his for a moment. She rubbed the armrest with the other hand and looked off in the distance. When she spoke again, her voice had the reporter tone that he knew she used to help her distance herself emotionally from what she was saying.
“That kind of information wouldn’t ruin me as a reporter, but I wasn’t comfortable having it out there while I was in the public eye for work. Just like with the assault and the kidnapping, it makes me wonder if people are thinking of that while I’m interviewing them.”
“That would be a pretty normal response.” He was speaking from experience.
