Funny how her mother’s faith bubbled up sometimes, filled her soul, as if it might actually help.
Keely spotted a dip in the forest wall, something ahead that might be a clearing, and headed for it.
The barking grew louder, and she picked up her pace, her hands in front of her. She tried not to scream. Faster, crashing through the forest—she spotted the meadow up ahead, a clear space. Maybe even the field around the community.Please,please—
She looked back, still running, and spotted something black coming at her, over downed logs—no, no—
Turning back, she sped up, crashed through the heavy boughs of a pine and—
Went airborne. The earth dropped out from below her, and she launched into nothing. Her arms spun, and she screamed as the earth rushed at her.
She landed hard, slamming against boulders, the snow barelyenough to cushion her fall into the depths of the ravine. She tried to catch herself, but no, the momentum pitched her right to the bottom.
Bam.
She landed so hard, her breath clogged in her throat.
Breathe!
It took a second, then air rushed back at her and she gasped, gulped it in.
Okay. Okay. She wasn’t dead. And maybe not broken, although her body burned and ached. She lay back, closed her eyes, and started to whimper.
Barking.No—no—
She opened her eyes and spotted the animal at the top, prowling, then dropping low to bark again. A wolf, all black, and it pawed at the snow some ten feet above her, at the top of the ravine.
She lay back down. Maybe the beast would go away.
It kept barking.
But what if it brought Thornwood?
She eased up and rolled over, nearly screamed. Yeah, whatever she’d done to her ankle before, the fall had only exacerbated the sprain. She tried to put weight on it, but sank down on her hands and knees, trembling.
“Don’t cry. Crying doesn’t fixanything.”
Yeah, well, maybe not, but she wasn’t former street cop turned detective Jimmy Williams. Didn’t even have his blood in her veins.
Frankly, crying seemed the right choice.
Ahead, the ravine continued cutting through the rock. Maybe she’d fallen into a creek bed, tumbled down a frozen waterfall. As long as she stayed in the river, the wolf couldn’t reach her.
He kept barking, but she forced herself up, stood on one leg, then gritted her jaw as she put weight on her ankle. Okay, maybe it wasn’t broken. Still, pain shot up her leg, and she got back down on all fours.
Crawling could work.
She scooted along the creek bed, her arms breaking through the icy top layer, snow tunneling up her jacket. The wolf seemed to follow her from above, still barking. She wanted to throw something at it, maybe scare it away. Her breath had slowed, her heartbeat not a fist in her chest, but she’d gone maybe two hundred feet when she sat back and rested, breathing hard.
She was going to die here.
Die, and never meet Zoey.
Die, and never meet Vic, although honestly, she’d made peace with that.
Die, and ... she’d heard hypothermia wasn’t terrible. Like going to sleep. Except for that part where you took off all your clothing because your body played tricks on you. Seemed unfair that in the end they’d find her naked body after all the fights she’d waged with photographers who wanted her to show more skin than she felt comfortable with.
It wouldn’t take long for Goldie to send out a search party. And they’d certainly find the crash—Mack had confirmed their path with the tower.
