by Joan Lambert
He wasn’t. Instead, he was standing beside the stream, watching the train go by. Once again, he had anticipated her movements. He was diabolical, she thought with another surge of panic. A diabolical man who wouldn’t give up until he had her in his clutches… Why was she so important to him? What was so special about her?
Laura ducked down as far as she could, muttering to the woman beside her that she had dropped her keys. She scrabbled around under the seat, found nothing but sticky bubble gum. Were they past him yet?
They must be. She dared to come up. “Find them?” the woman asked.
Laura jumped. “Oh! I realized I’d left them behind,” she explained lamely.
The woman wasn’t interested. The child was tugging at her hand, wanting her to look at something. “That man’s running beside the train,” he said importantly. “Why is he doing that?”
“He’s a nut,” the woman answered lazily. “Some people just like to run after trains and wave.”
“That’s stupid. They should ride them instead like us,” the boy announced with satisfaction. “He’s waving at us, too. Stupid man. He doesn’t even know us.”
Laura tried not to shiver. He knew her, and that wave was his message to her. He was telling her that he had her at his mercy and she could do nothing to stop him. What kind of a man would do that? A sadist, she realized, and couldn’t control the shiver that ran up her spine.
A wave of hopelessness assaulted her. He would wait at the station until the train returned and then she wouldn’t be able to stop him. He would grab her from behind as she tried to run and she wouldn’t be able to scream; she would be too paralyzed with fear. He knew she would be, and so he could afford to be bold, bold and patient. How was she to escape such a man?
If only she could hide, curl up in a dark hole somewhere and not move. He couldn’t find her then. The desire grew, seemed to consume her. She mustn’t let it. She had to get off before they got back to the station.
Of course, why hadn’t she thought of that before? But would the train slow down enough, so she could jump off? The answer came from an unexpected source.
“The tunnel!” the child screamed. “That’s why they’re slowing down, because of the tunnel. They always do that and it’s dark and spooky.” He shivered.
They had come around another corner and Laura saw a lake ahead. And only a short distance away, the tunnel. The train was creeping forward.
“Excuse me,” she said. “I’m going to look for my niece while the train isn’t moving so fast.”
Rising to her feet, she stumbled over her seat-mates and walked quickly toward the rear of the train. It was going very slowly now, inching through the darkness of the tunnel as children screeched in mock terror.
Laura stood swaying beside the last door, and just as the rear of the train exited the tunnel, she stepped down. Her knees buckled. She fell heavily and rolled down the steep embankment beside the tracks.
Well done, she congratulated herself shakily. She had accomplished the first step. But what was the second step? The ones after that?
She had to figure out where she was. That came first, she decided, trying to think rationally. Another thought sabotaged her resolve. This was called the Safari Train, and that must mean it went into the Safari Park so the children could see the animals. Maybe it had bypassed all those protective gates when it went under the tunnel. She could walk right into the tiger or the lion enclosure without even knowing.
As if to confirm her fear, a lion roared not far away. Laura shuddered. The tigers and leopards were even more dangerous. They would leap on her back as she walked by, dig in their claws and reach around for her throat with those long sharp teeth…
Terrified, Laura stumbled to her feet. She had to find a place to hide, from the animals, from the pugnacious man. He was most terrifying of all. The animals might kill her but he would…
Stop, her mind screamed at her. Stop!
Another train was coming. Hastily, Laura looked for a hiding place, saw trees. She ran headlong into their midst. They were thick, comforting. Her legs were trembling so she sat down, leaning her back against a tree. She needed to think, to be rational, but the throbbing in her head made it hard to focus.
She thought in images instead, pictured finding the entrance road to Longleat and flagging down a car. Even if they didn’t believe her or thought she was crazy, she would be safe. The worst was being here, where no one could help her. Why had she let him chase her here, away from all sources of help?
Because he was an expert at stalking, at knowing how to cut his victims off from other people, knowing exactly how to terrify them so that they made the worst decisions, did stupid things.
That was what he had done to her. He was playing with her, the way a cat played with a mouse. She pictured it; he was the cat, utterly without mercy, she was the mouse, running endlessly in a state of abject terror.
The image hit Laura with physical force. She sat up straight, astonished. And then she was suddenly furious - at her tormenter but even more at herself for allowing him to turn her into a victim, a silly little mouse with no defenses, no ability to think. Anger gave her unexpected strength, made her feel steely with determination.
“You might be expert at victimizing other people,” she muttered aloud through clenched teeth, “but I am damned if you’re going to victimize me any longer.” Instead, she would become expert at defying him, at thumbing her nose at him, at evading him at every turn.
Laura smiled to herself, a grim smile that forced a confidence she didn’t yet feel but was determined to develop. This was a test of wills, and a test of wits. That was the way she must think of it. There was too much at stake to fail. The baby and Rachel were in danger too, and needed her help. How could she have forgotten that?
Because he is an expert, she reminded herself, and renewed her resolve. What she had to do was anticipate his movements, his choices, instead of letting him anticipate hers. She needed a hiding place where she could wait until he gave himself away, either by coming after her or by failing to appear.
Laura rose and walked through the trees, sticking to the thickest growth, the shadows, and watching where she put her feet so she wouldn’t give herself away by tripping or cracking branches. The lake appeared suddenly before her, as calm and peaceful as a lake could be, its placid surface broken only by a small boat carrying the usual load of children and parents. The sight was incongruous but reassuring.
Maybe she could swim to the boat, Laura thought, or perhaps take refuge in that island in the middle of the lake. Then she spied a number of large dark animals roaming its shores and realized she couldn’t. Those were gorillas, and gorillas might not take to a drenched and unexpected visitor. For all she knew, those dark fins she saw sticking out of the water belonged to sharks, too.
She searched for another solution. To her left was a steep slope littered with piles of rock. They weren’t very big but they might be large enough to conceal her. She picked her way up the slope, stepping carefully so she didn’t dislodge pebbles. She was lucky and almost immediately saw a small cave behind one of the rock piles. It faced the woods so if he came through the trees, she would see him. Wriggling into the dark space, Laura sat down to wait and think.
She must plan for all alternatives. First, she couldn’t return to the station since he could be there. That one was easy. If he had followed her on the next train or by foot or car or both, she must plan how to evade him. If he looked up and saw her – well, she might just put the shark and gorilla theory to the test.
A movement in the trees caught her attention, and she drew in her breath. He was there. So he had come after her. Good. She had caught him in his game. Her game now, she reminded herself, discovering that her anger was still intact. And her mind, as if she had been given a shot of adrenalin.
She watched him, not staring lest he feel her gaze, but warily. He was standing perfectly still now, waiting for her to give herself away by running. Laura for
ced herself into total stillness.
A sound came from deeper in the woods, just the faintest rustle, as if a sure-footed animal were moving. The man crept stealthily toward it, his muscles tense, his eyes focused straight ahead.
Laura reached for a rock and lobbed it as far as she could from a sitting position in the direction of the first sound. It landed with a satisfactory thump. She saw the man smile, a confident smile that said: I shall soon have her. He moved rapidly in that direction. She waited, lobbed another rock, taking the chance of standing up for a split second to throw so it would go further. She had once played for a children’s baseball team, her only claim to sporting prowess, and she hoped her arm still functioned. It did. Her aim was true and the rock landed well ahead of the first. The man strode toward it with even greater confidence.
That wasn’t so hard! Laura was astonished by her success, but she had no time to congratulate herself. As if sensing a trick, the pugnacious man stopped abruptly. She lobbed another rock, off to the side this time. Without waiting to see its effect, she slithered as silently as she could down to the lake and ran along its edge. There was sand under her feet and she didn’t think he could hear her. More trees stretched ahead; she slid into them and ran until she came to a road. A single car was driving slowly along it, as before. Could he have gone back for his car and got here already? It didn’t matter. She couldn’t take the chance. Laura crept back into the trees.
She ran for what felt like a long time, and then permitted herself to stop, mostly to listen in case he was following. There were sounds, but faint ones. And then, close at hand, she heard a frantic squeal, as if a wolf or another predator had caught a small animal. It was followed by a long drawn out howl, as if one wolf were calling to another. Another howl came, this one further away.
Unnerved, Laura listened until the sounds had died away. She looked at her watch. Past eight o’clock already. Soon it would be fully dark. Maybe she should try to find her way back to Longleat House before all the light went.
She couldn’t do that, she realized. The pugnacious man was more likely to spot her if she went back the way she had come, and anyway she wasn’t sure which way was back. Better to look for the entrance road and walk out of the park. Closing her eyes, she tried to visualize the layout of the Safari Park in relation to the entrance road, but it was all a blur in her mind. If only she had her backpack, with its maps, its flashlight! But packs weren’t allowed in Longleat House, lest they inadvertently knock over fragile treasures, so she had left it in Rachel’s car.
Useless to wish; she must think instead. It seemed to her that the Safari Park described a rough circle, and she knew that the entrance road was above the steep slope that formed one side of the predator’s area. How far up did the animals roam, and how could she know when she was in and when she was out of their enclosures?
She couldn’t know. Laura shivered and wrapped her arms around her chest for warmth and comfort. All she could do was hope that an outer fence enclosed the park to protect her from night-hunting animals. First, though, she had to find it, and the only way to do that was to go toward the howls, the squeals of fright, and all the other unknown cries that came from the Safari Park at night….
Chittering sounds broke the stillness. Monkeys – they had made sounds like that when they’d climbed around on the bus. Monkeys wouldn’t harm her. She would go that way.
Laura plodded wearily toward the chittering sounds but after a while they stopped. Was that because the monkeys had settled in for the night or because she was going in the wrong direction?
Footsteps sounded behind her. She whirled but saw no one. Resisting an almost overwhelming impulse to run, she stole silently along, imagining that she was an animal that must not be heard. The footsteps ceased but she kept going anyway. Darkness began to envelop her, stealing her vision, but she paid no attention. On and on she crept, until she had lost all sense of time, until she was so tired she couldn’t think, could hardly move. She wanted only to lie down and sleep, but she resisted. Oddly, the thought of prowling leopards and lions and tigers had ceased to bother her. Instead, fear of the pugnacious man was all that kept her upright.
After a long time, much longer than she had expected, she found a fence. It was lower than she had imagined. Any of the animals could get over it. Laura shook her head, dismissing the problem. She was too tired to care. She trudged on, putting one foot in front of the next automatically, stopping only to catch her breath. All light had long ago fled from the sky, so she kept one hand on the fence to guide her. A fence had to go somewhere, and that was where she would go.
The terrain became steeper, and she used the fence to haul herself up. Often, she stumbled and fell to her knees, because her legs wouldn’t hold her any more or because she had tripped over some unseen object. Each time she lay where she was until some impulse made her stagger up and blunder ahead again, mostly up but sometimes down slopes and over small streams. And all the while she listened to the sounds of the night. The wolves had ceased their howling but the lions roared from time to time, and there were other sounds she didn’t know, softer, less intrusive growls and whimpers. None of the noises frightened her any more; she liked them. They were company, assurance that she wasn’t alone in the darkness. Nor did the dark frighten her. It enclosed her, kept her safe. The man couldn’t see her in the darkness. That was good, though she couldn’t seem to remember why.
The fence was going down now, steeply down. It was almost harder than going up because it was like stepping out into space. Laura was ready to give up and simply lie down when the ground under her feet abruptly changed, became hard. Had she come to the road? She must have. That was good, too. She would follow the road instead of the fence. But which way should she go? The question roused her from her exhausted stupor, made her remember what she was doing and why. She must be careful again. He could be roaming the Longleat roads in his car, looking for her.
Was she on the entrance road or the road into the Safari Park? There was no way to tell. She must be sure to duck into the bushes if she saw headlights. She must be sure to stay on the road, too. That was important.
For another long time she saw nothing and simply walked, struggling to keep herself alert enough to remember why it was important to walk, to stay on the road, to hide from the man who wanted to hurt her. When she did manage to remember, she leaned down and put her hand on the ground to make sure she was still on pavement. After a while, though, even those necessities failed to rouse her. She was too tired to think or to walk or even to stand. She would have to lie down soon. She sighed. Perhaps that didn’t matter either.
Then, abruptly, there was light directly ahead of her. Laura stopped, blinded and confused. There was too much light, too suddenly. Instinctively, she whirled away from the light and held up a hand to shield her face.
And then he was there, behind her, twisting her other arm backwards at a cruel angle. Laura screamed and fell to her knees.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
“Walk,” the man commanded. Numbly, Laura obeyed. Prodding her with a gun, he forced her to go faster. She stumbled and fell. He pulled her savagely up again and shoved her forward. Gasping with pain, Laura staggered on.
They were coming to a parking lot. It held a lone car. His car. She saw figures, too, shadowy and indistinct.
“Damn!” His voice. He had seen the figures too, was alarmed. So he hadn’t known anyone else was there. What might that mean?
Help. It must mean help. The realization snapped Laura out of her numb exhaustion and forced her brain back into focus.
When he let go of her arm for a second to adjust the gun, she leaped away from him. He was too quick for her. Grabbing her again, he pulled her hard against his chest and pressed the gun to her head.
“Don’t come closer,” he warned the figures beyond him.
“Let her go and we won’t touch you.” Violet’s voice. Violet would stop him somehow. Laura’s body sagged with relief, and she slid tow
ard the ground.
The man jerked her upright again. “Fat chance,” he sneered, and moved slowly toward his car, the gun in front of him now, aimed at the shadowy figures.
Just as he got there, the night seemed to explode into movement. Laura saw a hand holding car keys fly through the air in front of her and smash into the man’s face, keys first. He dropped her arm and put a hand to his cheek. Swearing savagely, he aimed the gun at his attacker.
Before Laura had time to react, Rachel, who seemed to be the source of all this movement, knocked the gun out of the man’s hand with a quick chop of her wrist and shoved the car keys into his face again, point first. He raised both hands to his eyes this time, screaming with pain. Calmly, Rachel delivered a powerful thrust with her knee in the direction of his abdomen. Her long blond ponytail swung in rhythm with the movement. He doubled over, clutching his groin. A sideways blow to the neck sent him plunging face first to the ground.
Laura stared in wonder, first at him, then at Rachel. She felt unable to move, unable to think. Other people came and bent over the fallen man, clipping handcuffs to his wrists.
“Laura! Laura! Are you all right?” Violet sounded frantic. Laura took a step toward her to reassure her, but for the second time in as many days her body betrayed her, and she crumpled to the ground.
Violet caught her just before she dropped. Laura heard her voice through a fog of semi-consciousness. “Water. Check the pulse. I think she’s all right, just exhausted.” A hand picked up her limp wrist. Rachel, she thought.
“Baby,” Laura muttered.
“Fine. Being checked out in hospital just in case.” Yes, Rachel’s voice, still calm, though she did sound out of breath.
Laura sighed, took a deep breath herself. “He came after me, stalked… I think he likes that.”
“He does.” Violet’s vice was grim. “Abusive bastard.”
“I’m tired.” Laura sighed again, tried to sit. “What time is it?”
