“Swallow!” Another gouge with the knife.
Sarah downed a gulp of the water, let the lethal dose slide down her throat. She tossed the bottle aside. “Happy now?” The panic welled and welled.
Lynda smiled. “Yes.”
She pushed to her feet, turned toward the chief, and shook her head. “He should’ve listened.”
Sarah bolted into action.
The world tilted again as she rushed to her feet. She flung herself at Lynda.
The two tumbled to the rocks. The knife clanged and scooted across the rocks.
Lynda grabbed Sarah’s hair. Pain erupted and Sarah screamed. They rolled. Sarah punched and kicked. Lynda pulled her hair harder, banged her head against the rocks.
Sarah’s hold on the bitch loosened as blackness threatened. The pain was overwhelming.
She was going to die.
“That’s right,” Lynda taunted as she settled astride Sarah’s stomach. “Die!”
No damned way.
Sarah bucked. Lynda wasn’t expecting the move. She reeled sideways. Sarah bucked harder. Flung her body weight against her enemy, then rolled. Sarah was suddenly on top. Lynda reached frantically for the knife. One hand on the bitch’s throat, Sarah reached out with the other and snagged the knife. She settled her weight fully on the woman’s chest, using her thighs to trap the bitch’s arms against her sides.
She smiled at the panic in Lynda’s eyes. “Now who’s going to die?”
Rage rushed through Sarah’s limbs, making her stronger. Making her want to kill this bitch more than she’d ever wanted anything in her life.
If your first instinct is to kill ...
Pope’s words echoed in Sarah’s head.
She hesitated. Stared into the face of the bitch who had killed three people, two of whom had been innocent victims ... she had terrorized an entire village. She had been prepared to kill Sarah ...
She tossed the knife aside.
Lynda grinned with triumph. “I knew you couldn’t do it.”
“Shut the hell up.” Sarah grabbed two handfuls of the bitch’s hair and banged her head against the rocks a couple of times. When her eyes rolled back in their sockets, Sarah figured that was enough.
But she wasn’t taking any chances. Keeping one hand on the bitch’s neck, she reached for the duct tape lying on the ground. She grabbedthe end between her teeth and pulled a good length free, then tore it off. She scooted backward, manacled her prisoner’s hands together. As she tore off another length of tape, Lynda came to enough to try and fight. Sarah banged her head against the rock twice more, and Lynda went lax.
“Bitch,” Sarah muttered.
She wound the tape around Lynda’s wrists several times before doing the same to her ankles. She didn’t bother taping her mouth shut. If she woke up, let her scream.
Sarah moved over to the chief, checked for a pulse. Nothing. She put her cheek to his face, felt for breathing. Nothing. Her head still spinning, Sarah attempted CPR until she became too groggy. Still no pulse.
Shit.
The pills. She had to find help. Sarah tried to stand. Didn’t make it.
Wait. The chief would have a radio or cell phone. Sarah dug around in his pockets. No radio ... her fingers wrapped around what felt like a phone, and relief rushed through her. She could call for help once she got outside.
She managed to stand and then stagger toward what she hoped was the mouth of the cave.
The ground tilted under her feet. The rock walls moved and shook.
