So Dark The Night. Margaret Daley
She shoved that image away. She couldn’t think about that now. She had to get him help. She had to stay alive.
She started back down the ridge. In the distance she heard the two men tearing through the woods. Not far away. No time to get her shoe. Spinning back around, she looked about her to see which way she should go. Deeper into the woods? Or toward the highway?
The crashing sound of the men tracking her, who obviously didn’t care if she heard them, dominated her thoughts as she tried to decide. The closer the sound came, the more frenzied her heart beat. Panting, she headed for the darkness of the denser trees on the other side of the ridge, away from the highway.
Deeper and deeper she pushed into the forest. Something sharp cut the bottom of her bare foot. She didn’t stop to see what it was. She kept going, an ache in her side intensifying and rivaling the pain from the wound on her heel.
The farther she went, the darker it became until she could barely make out the area ten feet in front of her. Her lungs burned. Her eyes stung from the tears that loomed just beneath the surface. Holding her side, she stopped by a large trunk, leaning into it for support as she drew in large gulps of air. Her legs quivering, she listened.
For a few seconds silence tantalized her with visions of a successful escape. Then the sound of breaking twigs and a muffled voice resonated through the trees. They had followed her into the woods. They weren’t far behind.
Scanning the black curtain around her, she glimpsed the faint outline of some large bushes. She dove toward them, seeking their shelter. Darkness and leaves cocooned her in safety. The scent of earth and vegetation peppered the air. She waited.
An eternity later, she heard plodding footsteps approaching. Every muscle tensed to the point of pain. She waited, not even daring to breathe much.
“Ouch! Watch it, will you?”
The rough voice pierced the quiet and sent Emma’s heart racing even more. Not far away. She squinted and peered out into the gloom. Nothing but faint shapes of trees surrounded by blackness.
“We ain’t gonna find her. Let’s get back and check her out. Probably Derek’s latest girlfriend. Fancy car means she has to have money.”
“Will you shut up? I can’t hear a thing over your constant chattering.”
The man who belonged to the rough voice must be the leader, Emma thought and decided it was the tall man she’d seen at the cabin, the one with the cold, black eyes. She’d never forget those eyes as he’d stared at her through the window, Derek’s limp form next to him. Again she pictured the man with the chilling eyes. The niggling sensation she’d seen him before wouldn’t loosen its grip on her thoughts.
Where have I seen him? Who is he? Why did they shoot my brother?
Oh, Derek. Tears crowded her throat. What if her brother was still alive? She needed to get him help, and time was against her.
“What’s the point? It’s too dark anyway,” the other one said, his voice higher. It riveted Emma back to the problem at hand.
If she was right, that was the man who’d shot her brother. Throat tightening, she squeezed her eyes closed, trying to keep the tears inside. She didn’t have time to think beyond getting to safety. She’d fall apart later.
“We need some flashlights. I have one in the car and I bet there’s one at the cabin.”
The voices were nearby. Emma shrank back deeper into the underbrush. Her heartbeat roared in her ears so loud she couldn’t make out what the short, bulky man replied.
She tried to run through a relaxation technique she used when stressed, but nothing took the edge off. Even taking deeper breaths didn’t calm the loud thumping of her heart. She clamped her hands over her ears, her eyes scrunched closed. Like a child playing peekaboo, she hoped since she couldn’t see them, they couldn’t see her.
Minutes ticked away. She waited. Slowly, she opened her eyes and dropped her hands to the damp ground. Nothing…but the wind rustling the leaves on the bush, a curtain of black shrouding her.
She crawled forward from the depths of the thick underbrush and scanned the darkness. Still, silence greeted her. No sound other than nature’s. A bird chirped. A frog croaked. Crickets trilled. The normal sounds of a forest.
She inched farther out of her shelter. She needed to get to the highway for help. Thankfully, she knew the woods surrounding the family cabin and realized if she circled around to the right she could reach the highway, flag down a car and escape the two men—and maybe, just maybe, help her brother.
With her eyes adjusted to the dark, she picked her way through the maze of trees toward what she believed would be the highway. The continual hammering of her heart and the shallow gulps of air made each step difficult. The trembling in her legs spread upward to encompass her whole body. Her pace slowed, shock slipping through her defenses.
Again a sharp object pierced the bottom of her foot. It was too dark even to see where she was stepping. Can’t stop. She focused all her concentration on lifting one foot and placing it in front of her. Not far, she was sure. She was now glad of all those times she and—a lump lodged in her throat when she thought of her brother. She and Derek had loved to play hide-and-seek in these very woods as children.
The memory produced a tear. It leaked out of her tight restraints and rolled down her cheek. She brushed it away. No time. Later. Have to keep going. Get help.
In the distance she heard a car zoom by. She wanted to quicken her pace, but her legs felt as though she wore cement blocks for shoes. Through the trees she saw headlights arc across the terrain and disappear. A hundred feet. Safety. The highway was the only way into town. Her best chance to escape.
Then behind her she heard the two men and saw the beams from their flashlights circling the area in front of them. Her gaze was drawn toward their lights. She was amazed at how fast they had returned. She plowed ahead, forcing herself to go faster. Blocking from her mind the searing pain in her legs and lungs, she limped toward the sounds of passing cars. Fifty feet.
The ribbon of asphalt cut through the forest. Slicing lights illuminated the trees on the edge of the highway. She pushed herself harder. Thirty feet.
The noises behind her grew louder. A light touched the area to the side of her. Then it swept over her as though icy fingers scraped across her. A shout slashed through her thundering heartbeat and sent terror straight to her core.
“There! She’s almost to the highway.”
“Get her,” the rough voice commanded off to the right.
Suddenly Emma didn’t see any more headlights on the highway. Darkness surrounded her. Then the beam behind her found her again. She darted to the left, trying to evade the brightness. Ten feet.
In the distance the sound of a car filled the night with hope. She plunged from the cover of the trees and headed toward the headlights barreling down upon her.
A shot rang out from the forest. Panicked, she raced forward.
“Come on, Reverend Fitzpatrick. We’re gonna be late. Five miles over the speed limit isn’t really breaking the law,” Brent Hardwood said over the loud music playing on the radio.
Colin Fitzpatrick threw his passenger in the front seat a grin. “Is that your reasoning? No wonder the sheriff has given you several tickets in the past few months.”
“Yeah, Brent. One more and your license will be suspended.”
Brent twisted around in the seat. “You’re no better, Jamie. You just haven’t been caught. It wasn’t that long ago you were drag racing on Miller Road.”
“Guys, I don’t think I want to hear this. I might be obliged to inform a few parents. And since Neil’s dad is the sheriff, it might prove to be a bit awkward.”
“Isn’t this covered under some confessional rule?” Neil Logan asked