“Katherine!” I hear his deep baritone bark echo off the stones around me, and my eyes crack open.That sounded real.And close, not like a memory.
“KATHERINE!” his voice repeats. “Fucking hell, baby, just hang on,” he calls out. And I frown now because Zayn has never said those words to me before. Shouted it, really.
I gently tilt my head and look to the mouth of the well far above me.It seems so far away. Through the cracks in my glasses, I can barely make out a dark figure looming over the edge. The figure is still, their body tense, and peering down at me.
“Z-Zayn?” I whisper, hardly daring to believe it. He had come for me.
“Zayn?” I choke out louder, but my voice is little more than a hoarse rasp from the cold and the pain.
“I’m here, Doc. Don’t you fucking move.”
Am I hallucinating?Perhaps I had slipped into a concussion dream and am imagining being rescued. I press a sharp, ragged fingernail that had torn in my pathetic escape attempt into my forearm as hard as I can.Ow.I look down and see the red crescent shape imprinted into my skin there. I’m not dreaming.
Painfully, I sit up and my head spins, but I ignore it.Zayn is here. Somehow, he had found me.
Before I can scramble fully upright, I hear a whipping sound cut through the air, and a thick, long rope unfurls onto the ground before me. There is a small loop secured at the end with an intricate knot connecting the two.
“Slide the loop over your shoulders and secure it around your middle, Katherine,” Zayn shouts down.
I scramble over to the rope, temporarily forgetting about my ankle, and my whole leg wobbles and gives way beneath me. I lunge for the rope and grab onto it tightly, holding it taut. Groaning with pain, I lift my leg gingerly now unable to put any weight on it at all. I glance up again at Zayn, or rather, at the shadowy figure that I assume is Zayn, as it is now almost completely dark and he’s too far up for me to make out his face clearly anyway.
I slide the loop over one shoulder, and then the next, and painfully shimmy it down over my stomach, where the rough fibers of the rope pull and catch at my shirt.
“OK, I’m in!” I call up to him.
“Hang on tight and try to stay still. I’m going to lift you up. You can do this, baby. Come on,” Zayn instructs.
And seconds later, I am hoisted into the chilly night air. I gasp and cling to the rope, pressing my eyes tightly shut. Each foot I ascend is slow, tenuous, and painful. I wonder how Zayn is even doing this.
About halfway up, the rope jerks to a sudden stop and I am left frozen in midair.
Without warning, the rope drops several feet.
I pitch downward towards the bottom of the well, screaming and clinging to the rough length of rope in my iron grip. The rope tightens again, and my fall is halted, but I swing painfullyinto the stone siding of the well. My face hits the stones hard, and I choke out a groan. I hang there, limply for a moment.
Once certain I am not falling to my death, I crack my eyes open and chance a glance upwards. At first, I see nothing. Then, two blurry figures locked in an embrace at the edge of the well, clearly struggling, come into focus.
____________________
ZAYN
I secure the rope around my body in a tight bowline knot. Kat’s weight feels like nothing from the pure adrenaline coursing through my veins.
I turn to rifle through the sea bag at my feet for a carabiner when I hear a slight rustle in the grass from behind me. I turn just in time to dodge a tall, thin man swinging a heavy silver axe at my head.
I lunge for my gun in the holster at my side, but Eastman knocks my hand away, landing a brutal punch across my jaw.
Again, he raises the axe, and again I block him. The fucker is strong, and he has that additional element of surprise on me. But when I tracked her here, I knew that he would be lurking close by. A true predator would never leave his prey alone for long.
The next swing misses my head by inches. There is a manic gleam in his black eyes that makes my stomach drop. The axe whistles through the air and I don’t have time to breathe—he’s already swinging again.
I stumble backward, my boot catching on a rock. I go down, and my body slams hard onto the damp earth. He charges me once again, this time the blade dragging a bright arc toward myknees. I twist away at the last second, log rolling towards the well.
He roars in fury, and that millisecond of distraction is my opening. I throw myself upright, launching us both backward toward the mouth of the well.
We crash back to the ground, fighting for control. Eastman brings the axe up between us, and I use what’s left of my strength to wrench it from his grip. In one fluid movement, I raise it above my head and bring it down, sinking it deep into his forehead. Blood sprays out in a hot mist, splattering across my face.
I still over him for just a moment, heaving, and spit out the blood that got in my mouth. Standing, I slip a toe under his body and kick him forward into the dark abyss before me.
