With his head directly under my feet, I hold my breath. This might be my only chance. He’s huge—I’m exhausted, but I might not get another chance.
My heart hammers as I grip onto the rough bark. Above me, a canopy of leaves. Below? The hunter. Eyes glued to his rifle, I curl, clutch my knife and brace.
If he looks up, I will launch.
Please, God. Let him keep walking.
Gaze transfixed, I remain motionless as a beam of light darts across the underbrush. Circling all around, it lands on the pine boughs to my left.
Oh crap.Still muttering, he straightens, scratches his head, then focuses on a noise in the distance.
Yesss. He’s leaving. I made it.My relief is so immense, it sends a signal to my stomach. In the hush of the night, it croaks louder than a bullfrog.
Freezing, my stalker tilts his head upward, his split grin curdling my blood. Slow and deliberate, he lifts his weapon.
Channeling Rocky-the-Flying-Squirrel, I launch—legs outstretched. Either my boots hit their mark, or—
BOOM!
Pain blooms. I’m hit. Wait. Not a bullet. What is it? A dart?
When I pull it out, my shoulder stings like hell.
Poison oozes through my system, slowing me down, making it hard to think.
Jab—punch—kick. Damned, if I’ll die without a fight.
Military style, he blocks my moves. Invincible, I feel no pain.
When my weapon falls into the underbrush, I laugh. No knife? No problem. I scratch his face, pull his hair, knee him in the balls. Legs around his waist, I slam his head against a rock, repeatedly.
The world spins. My grip weakens. I have to let go.
Brown hair, dark beady eyes, sharp features. I memorize them all as Gollum groans underneath me. As I roll off onto all fours, his flashlight gleams on my blade. I pick it up.
Rising onto his knees, he reaches for it, too.
Fight or flight is not a trite saying. It’s a life or death decision.
Seeing double, too drugged up to win against the bear of a man, I race toward the main trail.
Mumble-mouth laughs. “Run, sweetheart. That’s right. Run.”
His glee sends the first wave of doubt I have felt since the night he stole my gear.
Run, Bree, Run. See Bree Run.I slip and fall as he giggles behind me. Reality contorts into a weird acid trip. Alice in Wonderland.I’m late, I’m late, I’m late.
Barely able to stand, I stumble forward into a humongous body.
Oh, God, no. The caterpillar has hands, his dog has teeth—
If this is a nightmare, why can’t I wake up?
Chapter 11
Kade
“Becca, stay.” Tone firm, I insist my partner back down as I wrap arms and legs around the two-legged bobcat.
