Or worse... The unsettling thought wouldn’t go away. Maybe she lacked color because she’d cheated death and it was coming back after her.
Kennedy shrugged off her dark thoughts. After slipping her smart phone and keys in a zip up pocket and tuning into some indie music, she jogged toward the first hill. It was uphill for a good half-mile. She hated this part, but at least she got it over with in the beginning. Ah, but she loved the last part. Almost all downhill and blessed shade.
Her heart pounded. Sweat trailed down one temple. The sun dipped lower in the sky. On her way up, she came across a number of hikers going in the opposite direction. All colored with different auras. Not one bit of gray. Normal.
Which led to her being abnormal.
She focused on the trail. Protruding rocks and shrubs littered the path. If she wasn’t careful, she might land on her face. As she climbed the trail, fewer people appeared.
The main path circled around a foothill. Prickly pear, Palo Verde trees and desert shrub scattered the desert on both sides of her. Shadows elongated and clung to the mountain side by the time she reached the halfway point where she started to circle back around. On this side of the mountain only a few ranch-style houses sprawled across the valley below. No sign of movement from any of the properties.
Heart racing, she pushed forward. Her lungs burned. She unsnapped her water bottle and took a swig. She didn’t slow and water splattered her cheeks. Focus momentarily diverted, she tripped over a protruding rock cemented to the packed dirt. Her hands sprang up for balance and the water bottle went flying. Her ankle twisted to the side. She gasped. Pain flared across muscle and tendon. She stumbled to a stop and caught her breath.
“Damn it,” she grunted to herself.
Stepping forward, she tested her right ankle and winced. “Good going, you clumsy oaf.”
Just what she needed. A good mile back to the car on a sore ankle. She guessed it could have been worse. She might have lost her keys—which could easily happen... Tensing, she quickly patted her zipped pocket and felt the jagged lump of her keys. “Thank God for small miracles. Now if I could just find my water bottle.”
It took all of two seconds to find it. She grabbed the metal container butted up against a rock and snapped the top closed before any more water spilled out.
Even though the sun had dipped even further, Kennedy decided not to push her body and jog the rest of the way. The last thing she needed was to slap the ground with her face. Then she’d have a heck of a time getting out of the place.
Tentatively, she moved down the path, testing her ankle with each step, unable to walk without a distinct limp.
Footsteps against gravel pulled Kennedy from her thoughts. A hiker appeared from the curve in the trail. His figure waved, dimmed and darkened. Even with the fading sun, Kennedy easily distinguished black rays radiating from his body. His clothing, shoes, hair, arms—pulsed pure, undiluted black, not muddy gray, indigo, or deep, dark green. Just pure black.
Uneasiness crawled along the back of Kennedy’s neck and into her chest. The only word that would describe the feeling rolling toward her was evil.
The sun hung low in the sky. She hadn’t seen another hiker for a while. Tension cut a swath across her shoulder. Her heart rate kicked up.
The hiker continued toward her. Bulky shoulders, thick arms and legs. She thought to lift the glasses to get a better image of him because the black masking the rest of his features, but decided against it. She’d just look odd and draw attention to herself.
She touched the phone in her pocket. A lifeline.
Okay she was getting way out of hand and paranoid. She didn’t know for sure what these glasses really told her. Oh, yeah? Then why the black? She’d seen someone radiating muddy green and the guy had looked far from happy.
Black didn’t necessarily mean evil. It could mean death. But she wasn’t getting a feeling of his death. Oh, no. Not at all. Death could very well mean the other way around. He might have killed, murdered, raped.
Enough!
She stared at the hiker. Approximately twenty-five yards now. Black continued to emanate from all areas of his body but mainly from his chest and head. Who was she trying to fool?
His voice carried across the distance.
Jesus. He was talking to himself and opening and closing his hands. The better to strangle your neck maybe?
Cut the sarcasm, Kennedy. This wasn’t funny.
Last year a female hiker was raped and murdered in another recreational park east of Phoenix.
The idea of passing him made her stomach roll with panic.
Closer. Yet closer. She looked down at the ground as she walked awkwardly forward.
“Hey, are you alright?”
She pulled the headphones from her ears. Forcing a smile, she avoided looking at his face and nodded. “I’m fine.”
“But you’re limping.”
This time, she glanced up. The male hiker stood just six feet away. He wore black track pants and a wife-beater t-shit, which revealed a barrel-like chest and thick, corded muscles along his shoulders and arms. She lifted her gaze and met his eyes.
Oh, Jesus. She sucked in air and viciously pulled back the scream rising up her throat. The glasses revealed a face the color of bleached bone. Black sockets with no eyes inside. A mouth minus lips. A ghoulish, horror-like face. The sunglasses. They were distorting his face. Had to be.
Heart slamming against the inside of her ribs, she ripped the glasses off. He looked human now. A ruddy complexion, thick, brown nondescript hair, doughy cheeks and chin. Now that he looked normal helped but not by much. To hide the trembling in her hands, she stuffed her glasses in another zip up pocket in her shirt. “It’s just a little twist.”
“Are you sure?” He stepped in front of her and stopped, blocking the trail.
She’d have to scramble around him to get past. Alarm skated across her flesh. The path here had a steep incline on one side and a sharp rise on the other. There was little room to maneuver anywhere without struggling for balance.
He took two steps toward her. He cocked his head to the side, and the smile creasing his face didn’t reach his eyes. What looked like a tattoo of a snake wrapped around his forearm and up around his bicep. She stepped backward and blindly stuffed her headphones into her pocket with one hand. Her fear escalated.
He shook his head. “Let me at least make sure you get to your car okay.”
“I’m fine,” she said the words too sharply. Damn it. She’d been unable to mask the alarm in her voice. Her gut was telling her to run, to escape before it was too late.
His face tightened; his eyes narrowed. Something dark flickered in their depths.
She stumbled back. Her heel hit air, where trail ended and the ground pitched downward. Pebbles trickled down the slope. For a wild moment she thought she was going to fall backward, but he caught her wrist and pulled her forward. He towered a good foot over her.
“Easy now.” His breath, scented of onion and spoiled meat washed across her face. “We don’t want you hurting yourself even more.”
“Don’t touch me!”
She jerked her arm, struggling to escape his grasp. The look of fear must have been stamped all over her face.
“Why are you so scared?” His grip on her wrist tightened. “What do you know?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Liar. You know.” A muscle is his jaw twitched. His voice dropped to a whisper. “She knows something, doesn’t she?” He nodded. “I think she does.”
Oh, God. He was talking to himself again.
“I don’t know anything,” she insisted. She forced herself to relax, hoping to give him the impression she didn’t plan on fighting him and he held all the control.
“She’s lying to you,” he whispered. His gaze clouded. “She knows what you’ve done. We need to stop her from telling anyone.”
He was crazy. And she was going to die. That’s why she was gray.
All this time she’d been only existing, wanting to just disappear, and now she might get that wish.
Tensing, searching for a vulnerable spot on his body, she shifted on the balls of her feet and ignored the ache in her ankle. All those self-defense shows or episodes on television escaped her mind. Only one word screamed inside her head. Escape!
Throwing her body backward, she put all her weight into pulling her arm from his grip. She slipped from his grasp. His gaze snapped wide. Twisting around, she scrambled down the incline. A road below circled the hill and led to the parking lot and the main street. On the other side of the street, help beckoned—a neighborhood, high school, and church.
Damn it. To hell with her ankle. She could do this. She was a runner, in shape. She could outrun and outmaneuver him. She had to!
Kennedy heard him scrambling after her. She didn’t dare look back. Only about thirty feet away from the paved road. If she could get there in one piece, she could sprint the rest of the way to the car or the main street. She ignored the searing pain cutting into her ankle and radiating up her calf.
She fumbled for her pocket, managed to slide the zipper and get at her phone. She needed a backup plan. If this creep managed to overtake her, she needed help. She might get raped, beaten and pummeled, but if she told someone of her whereabouts, the odds of living another day could turn in her favor. Jamming speed dial with a thumb, she careened around a tree, rocks and brush.
Luke answered on the second ring.
“Luke,” she gasped. “I’m at Thunderbird.”
“What the hell’s wrong? You sound—”
“Call the police,” she gasped out. “Someone’s after me.”
Her foot hit a large rock. Her bad ankle twisted. She cried out. The phone slipped from her hand and flew into the darkness. She flung her hands out for balance. Oh, God. She couldn’t fall. If she fell, he’d be on her in seconds. She flung her hands out for balance. The ground sped toward her.
“Gotcha.” The hiker’s fingers caught in her hair. He yanked her backward by a clump of her hair.
She cried out. Pain cut into her scalp. She struggled. Gravel kicked up as she tried to twist away. She clutched at her hair and tried to pull the strands from his grasp.
Dusk clung to the landscape. Shadows, darker than the others slumped against the ground. Neighboring houses. A faint light beckoned in the distance.
“Help!” She dragged in a lungful of air, then screamed, “Someone help me!”
He struck her from behind, knocking the wind out of her and throwing her to the ground. Her head hit the ground. Her vision turned black.
Then nothing.
CHAPTER FOUR
She woke to pain. It battered her head, face, back and ankle. She lay on her stomach, her hands under her and her cheek pressed against something rough and unyielding. Footsteps against gravel sounded to her right. She gingerly opened her eyes. Her blurred vision slowly focused. They were in the parking lot. Her car rested but twenty yards away. The hum of tires against asphalt reached her ears, then faded. Again more tires. People were driving by, completely oblivious of the crime unfolding a short distance away.
Dusk had fallen. Street lights, too weak to penetrate into the park, left her and her assailant hidden from view.
The creak of hinges cried into the night. Then sudden, weak, yellow-tinted light flickered on. Oh, God. That sounded like a trunk opening.
She tensed, easing her hands from under her body, preparing to spring up and run.
“Oh, no you don’t.” He grabbed her arm from behind.
She twisted at the waist and kicked out. Her toe hit a shin. It didn’t seem to faze him though. The bastard didn’t release his vise-like grip on her upper arm, but lunged to the side and yanked her up and toward a car. She fought back, slamming the heel of her palm against his cheek, lashing out with her good leg. His thick body, strangely agile, easily deflected each of her blows.
He slapped her head against the side of the car. Briefly, she saw the car’s trunk partially open before light flashed across her eyes. She sank to her knees. Bowing her head, she blinked several times. The pressure of her shirt dug into her throat as he held her up from the collar.
If he put her in the car, she was dead. She couldn’t let that happen. Her peripheral vision faded as she struggled to keep air in her lungs. She hung forward by her shirt, intentionally acting as if she’d fainted. She heard hinges protest again.
Oh, God. He was opening the trunk. He planned to dump her in there.
She waited, letting him pull her up and along, her knees dragging against the ragged ground. She waited for the perfect moment. She waited for that one chance. Opening her eyes, she almost lost it. A naked body rested inside the trunk. Tangled blond hair obscured the woman’s face. Bruises the color of crushed, red grapes littered her naked legs, arms and breasts.
Kennedy jerked away, slamming her head up into her attacker’s face. Twisting, she tried to scramble from his grasp, but hands, like pinchers dug and circled both of her arms.
He sneered. “Think you’re pretty smart, eh? Think again.”
She couldn’t reply or scream back because his hands wrapped around her throat. Blood dripped into her face from a bloody nose she’s given him from slamming her head into his face.
The bastard wasn’t going to win.
She couldn’t see his eyes. Night obscured their color, but nothing could shield the rage emanating from him. She had seconds before she passed out. Words from a self-defense program flashed inside her head. She didn’t care how gruesome, how sick the act. She wanted to survive, to live.
Grinding her teeth, she grabbed both sides of his face and dug into his flesh. She had seconds. With her nails digging into his temples, she thrust her thumbs into his eyes. His hands tightened on her throat. Rage and fear goaded her, giving her a strength she didn’t think capable of. She shoved the pads and nails deeper into his sockets.
He screamed and convulsed against her, propelling her up against the car. Somehow she found the strength to latch on as he stumbled away from her. She pushed beyond the wet tissue and into his brain. A high keening noise welled passed her throat as they fell and she landed on top of him.
She scrambled off his prone body, fought off nausea and dragged in several ragged breaths. As she scurried backward on her knees, she stuffed her forearm into her mouth to smother her cries of horror.
Pulling herself up, she found her legs couldn’t carry her weight. Metal protested against her bare arms and shoulders as she slid roughly against the car’s side. The light from the truck glowed a sickly yellow across the ground and her exposed legs. Pebbles clung to the bloody scrapes across her knees and shins. She tried not to think of the body still inside the trunk or of the attacker just yards away.
A crazy miracle. But she’d take it by God.
The hum of tires on asphalt sounded from the street. Cars passed, the people inside unaware of the life and death drama having unfolded.
She’d just killed a man with her bare hands. So far, this time she didn’t crumble under the crushing weight of guilt. But that other time four years ago, she’d killed two innocent people. People who didn’t deserve to die like tonight.
The beam of a car’s headlights flashed across her. Tires kicked up dust and gravel. She shoved back the hair from her face as the sound of feet hitting dirt pounded into the stillness.
“Kennedy. Jesus,” Luke cried out. He knelt in front of her, his hands whispering over her arms, hands, legs. Fear thickened his voice, making the words almost unintelligible. “Are you hurt? Anything broken? I tried to get here as soon as I could. I was terrified. I called the police. I thought they would get here before me. Help you in some way.”
She tried to smile with reassurance, but she suspected the movement looked more like a grimace. “I’m okay now. Nothing broken. At least I don’t think so. I can’t say the same about the guy who tried to kill me. Somehow, someway, I managed to get the better deal.”
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br /> “Who is he?”
“I don’t know. Some sick freak. There’s a dead woman in his trunk. I think he thought I knew what he was doing. It’s the glasses. They revealed what type of person he was. I overreacted and he must have jumped on the idea that I knew what he was up to.”
His lips brushed her check, her temple while he continued to stroke her hair with shaking fingers. “I almost lost you, Kennedy! Do you know that? I would have gone crazy if something—Damn it!”
Even with the dim light from the car, she saw the glitter of tears against his cheeks. The terror, the fear that had gripped her minutes before melted away into a tide of love and humbleness. “But you didn’t and you won’t. I’ve been a complete idiot. A stupid fool. I was dead inside, unwilling to live. But now, I know I have to change. I can’t keep on going the way I have been. I need to believe in forgiveness.”
“What do you mean?”
Siren’s sounded in the distance, growing stronger with each painful, drum of her heart.
She looked over Luke’s shoulder and couldn’t yet see the police or ambulance lights. Taking a shuddering breath of relief, she sank into Luke’s arms. “Later. When things have calmed. When we’re alone and have time. Hah, time. I used to think of that as a four letter word.”
She shifted and that’s when she noticed something resting in the dirt by her side. Frowning, she reached over and picked the object off the ground. Her sunglasses. They must have slipped from her pocket. They’d either saved her life or nearly gotten her killed.
CHAPTER FIVE
Kennedy sat in the passenger seat of Luke’s car. They were heading out of town for the weekend. Luke thought she needed to get away. She knew he was trying to clear her mind, keep her thoughts away from what happened five days ago. Wind swept into the vehicle from both open windows, playfully tossing her hair. She inhaled the crisp, outdoor scent. It was good to be alive. There was a time she thought she’d never say that, but life had its many twists and turns. She’d been battling guilt all this week, trying to fold it away, let it rest in a place she didn’t need to visit any more.
Deadly Shades (Shades Series) Page 3
