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Once Hunted

Page 7

by Blake Pierce

It was time to make his move.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  April hummed along with the melody as she danced. The words to the song were in Korean, so she didn’t know what it was all about. But she didn’t really care, either.

  It felt good to be up late, to be alone, to be able to do whatever she pleased. Gabriela was downstairs, probably asleep. In any case, Gabriela wouldn’t demand that April quit and go to bed. After all, April wasn’t even breaking any rules or doing anything wrong. School was out for Christmas break and Gabriela would be glad that she was having fun. Things had been too serious for much too long.

  She heard a faint sound, like glass breaking. She whirled around to see if she had knocked something over. Instead, she saw the back door burst open, and a man was charging toward her.

  She only saw him for a blurred split-second—just long enough to see that he was small, slender, and very fast. She let out a scream, or at least the beginning of a scream. Before she could finish it, he crashed into her, knocking the wind out of her.

  She immediately felt how strong he was. As she tried to resist, he threw her down and pinned her to the floor. He was on top of her, holding both of her arms down. He wasn’t heavy, but he was wiry and filled with overwhelming energy.

  For a moment, she was paralyzed with pure shock. She stared up at him, mesmerized by his hard blue eyes.

  “Like dancing, do you?” he hissed. “We’re going to do some dancing now. It’ll be your last dance.”

  He leaned forward and kissed her on the forehead. The cold touch of his lips released her from her paralysis, and she screeched and kicked. But he was strong and held her in place.

  She heard a familiar voice shout out, “¡Diablo!”

  April saw that Gabriela was at the top of the basement stairs. She was punching numbers into her cell phone.

  In a flash, the man was on his feet. He charged at Gabriela, snatched the cell phone from her hand, and threw it across the floor. He struck her hard across the face. Gabriela sagged, but held onto the stair railing. Then he kicked her in the stomach, and with a cry she fell backward down the spiral staircase.

  April had regained her feet. She was now panicked about Gabriela and wanted to rush to her aid. But the man stood in her way. She whirled around and dashed away toward the front door, despite feeling ashamed of her cowardice. Just as she reached the door she heard the phone ring, and the sound of her mother’s outgoing message.

  She turned the deadbolt and released the chain and yanked the door open. Before she could run outside, she felt the attacker’s hand seize her arm with bruising force. He jerked her back and sent her sliding across the living room floor and pushed the door shut again. Before April could regain her feet this time, he was upon her again, grabbing her by one ankle and climbing over her body.

  She heard the phone beep, followed by her mother’s panic-stricken voice.

  “April! Gabriela! Where are you? Pick up right now if you’re there!”

  There was no way for April to get to the phone. Struggling to subdue her sheer animal panic, she thought hard and fast about what to do. She kicked out with her free foot and heard the attacker grunt as she struck solid flesh. The grip on her ankle loosened, and she pulled herself free.

  On her hands and knees now, she reached a floor lamp and toppled it onto her assailant. Any hope that she might have hurt him vanished with the sound of his laughter.

  “You’ve got some spunk!” he said. “Mommy must be proud of you!”

  Crawling frantically, she scrambled away into the dining room. She grabbed hold of the legs of a chair, then with all her might slung it at the man behind her. He deflected it as if it were a feather and grabbed hold of her waist from behind.

  April screamed and squirmed and twisted, beating him with her fists. Suddenly another man appeared behind him. April felt a surge of horror.

  He’s got a partner! she thought.

  She knew she didn’t stand a chance against two attackers.

  But she quickly saw that the newcomer was Blaine Hildreth, their next-door neighbor. He had come in through the front door, which hadn’t been pushed completely shut. He rushed forward and reached down and pulled her assailant off of her.

  April struggled to her feet as Blaine fought with her attacker. Blaine was the taller of the two, but April immediately noticed how clumsy he seemed by comparison. He obviously wasn’t accustomed to hand-to-hand fighting.

  Knowing that she needed a weapon, April rushed to the fireplace and grabbed an iron poker. When she turned back toward the fray, she saw the attacker land an especially brutal blow to the middle of Blaine’s abdomen. April heard Blaine let out an agonized gasp as the air burst from his lungs. He fell sharply to his knees, grasping his chest. The attacker seized his opportunity and delivered a swift kick to Blaine’s head, flinging him backward to the floor. The attacker stood over Blaine, who remained silent and still. April didn’t know whether he was dead or alive.

  For just a moment, her path to the front door was clear. But she remembered the shame she’d felt when she’d tried to escape before. This time she was determined not to run—especially now that she had a weapon.

  She rushed at her attacker and brought the poker down on his head. He was deft and quick, but even so the blow caught him on the side of the head. He staggered backward.

  With all her strength, April took another swing. This time the poker caught him across the shoulder, and he reeled backward again.

  But even that blow didn’t stop him.

  The man staggered, but then just stood glaring at her. Then he gave a wild laugh. She saw that he was enjoying this fight.

  He charged at her again, his expression one of crazed glee. He struck her across the face, and she fell to her knees.

  April’s panic welled up and almost overcame her. Desperately, she used both hands to swing the poker upward.

  It caught him in the chest. She heard him make a strange gurgling sound as he fell to the floor. He lay there, eyes closed, not moving.

  April struggled to her feet. Her heart was pounding painfully, and her breathing came in huge gasps. Her attacker lay still.

  Even so, she had to be sure. She raised the poker high above her head with both hands, and with all her might, brought it down on the top of his head.

  Blood sprayed and his body flinched, and then he lay still.

  Deathly still.

  I’ve killed him, she thought.

  Just then, she heard the sirens. April gasped in relief as the sound outside announced the arrival of police cars. She was sure that her mother had called them.

  She hurried to the front door and pushed it open wide.

  Then she heard a sound behind her and turned to look.

  She felt a chill of terror.

  He was gone.

  The man she thought she had killed was gone.

  She didn’t know how it was possible.

  The only other person in the room was Blaine, writhing on the floor. At least he was also still alive.

  Then, as the police cars pulled up outside, April suddenly remembered Gabriela. In renewed panic, she hurried down the stairs. Gabriela was unconscious but breathing. Not knowing what bones might be broken, April didn’t dare try to move her.

  She heard a voice upstairs.

  “Call an ambulance. We’ve got a man down.”

  Another voice called out, “This is the police! Is anybody here?”

  April dashed up the stairs. Three cops had come in. Two had their weapons drawn, and the other was crouched beside Blaine, who was groaning now.

  “I’m here,” she said breathlessly to the cops. “There’s a woman hurt downstairs. Please help her!”

  One of the cops hurried past April and headed downstairs. Two more cops came in through the front. The female cop who was tending to Blaine turned toward April.

  “What happened to the intruder?” she asked.

  “He must have got out through the back,” April said, pointing.


  The cop yelled at the two new arrivals, “Willis, Jameson, go after him.”

  As the cops rushed outside, the female cop asked April, “What did you do?”

  April picked up the fireplace poker, which was now lying on the floor.

  “I hit him with this,” she said, hardly believing her own words.

  The female cop’s eyes widened with surprise. She nodded with admiration.

  “Good,” she said.

  Little by little, it started to dawn on April that she’d done something truly amazing. She was still too badly shaken for real pride to kick in.

  The two cops who had gone out through the back door returned.

  “The yard’s clear,” said one.

  “So is the alley,” said the other. “He got away.”

  The woman cop was now looking at April with a worried expression.

  “Girl, I think you’d better sit down,” she said.

  April opened her mouth to ask why. But before the word came out, she fainted.

  *

  As Orin drove out of the alley in a rage, he could see the lights of the police cars flashing from the street. His breath was still coming in raspy gasps. Getting back across the fence and into his car had called on all his determination.

  “The little bitch,” he muttered, still hunched over in pain, still holding his bleeding scalp, the wound stinging. He checked the rearview and was relieved that at least the wound was hidden in his hairline and would not affect his appearance.

  She had thought she’d killed him, and had lost her chance to really do it. What a fool she was. Hadn’t she any idea that he could withstand pain a thousand times beyond that?

  Now he was really angry with himself. How could he have let a child like that get the best of him?

  Some revenge, he thought.

  He made a sharp turn down a street that took him directly away from the scene of his disaster. As unnerved and unsettled as he was, he still had the presence of mind not to drive over the speed limit. He mustn’t give cops any reason to pull him over—especially not now.

  He didn’t think that she had ruptured anything in his body, but he was in considerable pain. He could also feel a little blood trickling down the side of his head.

  He forced himself to ignore all of it.

  What mattered now was collecting his wits and his resources and getting back to his purpose. And if anything, he felt more bitterness than he had before. He’d use that anger. It would fuel his vengeance and direct his actions from now on. It would make his desire for revenge burn brighter and hotter.

  “Riley Paige has no idea what she’s in for,” he hissed aloud.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Riley kept the siren and lights going and she raced from Quantico to Fredericksburg. In Syracuse, the snow had let up enough that the FBI pilot agreed to fly back. Here in Virginia, the night was bright and the roads were clear. Although traffic was light, she didn’t want anything to slow her down. April, Gabriela, and Blaine were all in Brewster Memorial Hospital. Riley couldn’t get there soon enough for her liking.

  She’d just started getting the story of all that had happened and now Bill was in the passenger seat helping her with directions.

  “They told you that April is all right?” Bill asked.

  “They wouldn’t tell me much about her,” Riley said. “It sounds like Gabriela got a concussion. They’re still checking for internal injuries. And as for Blaine—”

  Riley couldn’t finish the sentence. From what she’d heard, Blaine had gotten the worst of it. Just how bad that was she didn’t yet know.

  “Riley, you can’t blame yourself about Blaine,” Bill said. “He chose to walk in there and do what he did. It’s not your fault he’s not a trained lawman.”

  “Yeah, well,” Riley said, “it’s not his fault he’s my neighbor, either. It sounds like he might have saved April’s life. But that’s my job. He never signed up for it. He never asked for it.”

  It troubled her that both Blaine and Gabriela had become victims. But in her heart she was most worried about April.

  “Bill, what am I going to do?” she asked. “I mean, what kind of mother am I, bringing this kind of danger home with me? And don’t try to tell me that’s not my fault.”

  “Well, it’s not,” Bill said.

  Riley shook her head doubtfully. Whether it was her fault or not, this was the third time that April had been victimized. First she had been kidnapped from her own father’s home and held in a cage by Peterson. She’d barely gotten over the PTSD from that experience when her boyfriend had drugged her and tried to pimp her. Now this. How much more trauma could a teenage girl take?

  “Something’s got to change, Bill,” Riley said. “Maybe it’s time for me to get out of this line of work.”

  “This is no time to decide that,” Bill said. “You’re just going to have to deal with things one problem at a time.”

  Riley didn’t reply. But she knew he was right. And one of the first items on her list was to get a new home security system installed. She’d had no idea that the one she had could fail so badly.

  When they walked into the hospital emergency room, Riley was surprised by all the frenzied activity even at this hour of the morning. Ambulance teams were bringing in new patients from various places. The loudspeaker announced impending arrivals. Female and male nurses rushed about. It was a stern reminder that suffering and catastrophe never slept.

  Riley and Bill hurried to the reception booth. Riley’s voice shook a little as she spoke to the two nurses on duty inside.

  “I’m here to see my daughter, April Paige,” she said. “I’m her mother.”

  The two nurses looked at Riley with interest. Riley guessed that they’d heard about all that had happened. Even in a place where ongoing emergencies were the norm, this one really stood out for them.

  “I’ll take you to her,” one of the nurses said.

  The nurse led Bill and Riley to a curtained cubicle where April was lying in a bed. Her hospital gown revealed large bruises on her arms. Ryan was sitting there holding his daughter’s hand. Riley was glad to see that Lucy Vargas was standing nearby.

  Riley rushed over and threw her arms around April, taking care not to squeeze too hard.

  Lucy told Riley, “The doctor is checking her x-rays, but it looks like cuts and bruises are the worst of it. They said that you might be able to check her out of here soon.”

  April pushed Riley away.

  “Where were you, Mom?” she snapped angrily. “I was attacked. I was scared to death. I needed you.”

  “I’m sorry,” Riley said, choking back a guilty sob.

  Then she saw the anger vanish from April’s eyes. April suddenly hugged her mother.

  “It really wasn’t your fault, Mom,” she said, crying.

  Riley held onto to April as tightly as she dared. She wondered how many times she’d have to be told things weren’t her fault until she finally believed it.

  Maybe never, she thought.

  Ryan got up from his seat so that Riley could sit down beside the bed. Then he patted her on the shoulder.

  “I’m glad you could get here, Riley,” he said. Riley didn’t detect the slightest note of blame or anger in his voice. “Do you need my help?”

  “Not right now,” Riley said. “You look tired. You should go on home. I’ll call you later and tell you what we’re doing.”

  “Then I’ll see you later, sweetheart,” Ryan said to April. He leaned over and gave his daughter a kiss on the cheek. For a moment he looked like he might bend down and kiss Riley too. Instead he smiled and walked away.

  Riley just stared after him for a moment, still surprised by his recent change of attitude.

  Then she asked April, “Can you tell me what happened?”

  April knitted her brow as she remembered.

  “I was dancing in the living room,” she said. “You know, like I do sometimes when I’m just having fun. And then there he was. He brok
e in from the back. And before I knew it, he was on top of me. He was trying to—”

  Riley knew what April meant but couldn’t bring herself to say.

  April continued, “Then Gabriela came up the stairs, and he knocked her down the stairs, and I was afraid he’d killed her. I ran for the door, but he caught me, and—”

  April herself looked surprised at what she started to say next.

  “I don’t know how it happened, but … it was like time slowed down, and with every second, I knew better and better what to do. I hit him with a lamp, then with a chair, and when Blaine came in and got hurt, I really let him have it with a fireplace poker. I thought I’d killed him. If the police hadn’t come, I—”

  April sat and stared for a few seconds, grasping the enormity of what she’d done.

  Then she said, “I know I really would’ve killed him.”

  Then April hugged her mother again.

  As she held April tight, Riley felt a great surge of unexpected emotion. It took her a moment to realize that it was pride. Somehow, despite all her failures as a mother, she’d raised a strong and resilient girl who could more than hold her own against danger.

  April tugged herself away.

  “Mom!” she said. “You’ve got to check on Gabriela! She took such a bad fall. They said she hit her head. I’m worried sick about her.”

  Riley asked Lucy, “Have you seen Gabriela? Can you take me to her?”

  “I’m sure she’s eager to see you,” Lucy said. “She’s over this way.” As Lucy led Riley through the ER, they stepped out of the way of an ambulance team bringing in someone on an elevated stretcher. Riley was grateful that April wasn’t that badly hurt. But how was Gabriela?

  It was just a short distance to Gabriela’s curtained cubicle. A doctor was at her side, checking her vital signs. Her face was bruised, and her head was bandaged. But she was wide awake.

  Lucy left, saying, “I’ll be back with April.”

  “Oh, Señora Riley,” Gabriela said. “I’m so sorry.”

  Riley walked over to the side of her bed.

  “Sorry? Good heavens, Gabriela, what have you got to be sorry for?”

 

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