Two green eyes low to the ground stared at them, unblinking.
Hannah yelped. Kaycee jerked her back into the trees. They ran. Hannah clutched Kaycee’s hand. “Wh-what was that?”
“I don’t know. A cat.”
They bore left, skirting the meadow. Hannah was slowing. “I . . . can’t go . . . any more.”
“Can’t stop yet.”
Kaycee slipped and went down on one knee on something hard. Pain shot into her joint. She whooshed out air and forced herself up, limping.
Time stretched on, the forest never ending. No houses, no help. No road. Where were they?
Hannah cried harder. The guttural sounds filled the night. “Shh,” Kaycee squeezed her fingers.
“I c-can’t go any m-more.” She sank to the ground.
Kaycee sat down beside her and drew her close. “Hannah, shh. You have to be quiet.”
Hannah buried her face in Kaycee’s neck and choked her tears into silent gulps.
Kaycee felt a tree trunk at her back. She shifted and leaned against it, exhausted.
They breathed and rested. For how long? Were they far enough away from the cabin? Hannah stopped crying. Finally they huddled, shivering.
How much night remained? They had to find help before the dawn betrayed them.
Noise in the distance. Kaycee froze, head cocked.
A crackle of underbrush. A second and third.
Rodney.
Hannah sucked in a breath and whimpered. Kaycee slid an arm around her shoulder and drew her in. She put her mouth to Hannah’s ear. “Shh. Don’t move.”
The snapping grew closer. Kaycee’s muscles tamped down. Should they run? He’d hear them.
She couldn’t have wounded him as badly as she thought. He might move faster than she could push Hannah. And he had a gun.
The sounds kept coming. Kaycee tilted her head, gauging. They were a little to her right. Twenty feet? Ten?
The noise stopped. Kaycee could hear Rodney’s thick breathing.
Hannah ducked her head farther, shuddering. Kaycee’s arm around her shook. Her heart rammed, her body craving oxygen. She pulled in air through her nose, willing absolute silence.
Time spun out. Rodney’s clothes rustled.
Oh, God, please, God . . .
Hannah’s fingers dug into Kaycee’s side.
“I smell you,” Rodney said.
Sudden light beamed through the darkness. Kaycee stiffened. It cruised away from them to the right. The left. Underbrush crunched. Kaycee could make out Rodney’s left arm, holding the flashlight. His right hand clutched the gun. The beam arched around, spanning over trees, a bush, a fallen dead trunk, sweeping toward them, twenty feet away . . . fifteen . . . ten.
Kaycee’s breathing stopped.
Hannah lifted her head, saw the light. She squeaked.
The beam swung to her face.
She slapped a hand over her eyes.
Rodney wheezed a long, mocking laugh. “Well, well.”
He made his way toward them, chuckling, so proud of himself. Kaycee watched him come, one leg dragging. This thief and murderer, killer of her daddy and policemen, kidnapper of children. The man who filled her mother’s life with terror.
Kaycee’s mouth hardened. Something within her shifted, then snapped. Like ice flow her fear broke off and drifted away.
She eased her arm from around Hannah’s shoulders. Slid both palms to the ground. The muscles in her legs quivered, gathering energy.
Rodney stopped three feet away. Kaycee could see blood smeared on his face. “Did you really think you could run from me, Tammy?”
“You never caught my mother.”
His jaw flexed. “Where’s the money?”
“She sank the boxes in the Atlantic Ocean.”
Rodney’s head pulled back. “You’re lying.”
Kaycee glared at him.
His gun moved to aim at Hannah. “Try again.”
“Okay, okay, just kidding!” Kaycee raised both hands. “They’re in some cave at a rocky beach on the ocean. Not too far from where we lived. Maybe I could find it . . .”
He stared at her, assessing. “If you’re lying, she’s dead.”
“Would I lie to you?”
He backed away two steps. “Get up. Slowly.”
Hannah shrank against Kaycee’s side. Kaycee pushed to her feet, helping the girl up. “I don’t know how to get back to the cabin.”
Rodney gestured with his head to the right. “That way.”
Even with a gun at their backs, the return trek seemed so short. They had gone in circles. Directed by the flashlight, Kaycee helped Hannah in as straight a line as possible, over fallen logs, through thick forest. Along the way, she prayed.
They stepped from woods to a sudden clearing. There sat the cabin, dim light filtering from a dirty side window.
“In the car. You’re driving.”
“All the way to New Jersey?” Obsessed was too tame a word for this guy.
“I’ve hunted you for twenty-six years. Nothing is stopping me now.”
They headed over soft wild grass toward the SUV. Rodney opened the back door for Hannah to crawl in. She collapsed on the seat. He shut the door.
Rodney moved to set the flashlight on its side on the car hood, beam aimed slightly away from his body. He switched the gun to his left hand, aiming at Kaycee’s face. His right hand slid into his pants pocket. Out came the car keys. He held them toward her. She reached to take them —
Sudden light from down the driveway swathed the forest behind her. Kaycee registered the sound of a car engine.
Rodney’s head swiveled toward the light. Survival reflex flared through Kaycee. This was her chance. She rammed her outstretched hand against the long gun, knocked its aim away from her face. Her right foot rocketed into Rodney’s groin.
“Unkh.” He doubled over as car beams cut across their bodies. Kaycee squinted in the brightness. The keys clicked to the ground. Rodney staggered, teeth clenched, clutching his weapon with both hands.
Tires ground to a halt and a door smacked open. “Police! Drop it!” The raucous command wrenched through the air.
Rodney waved the gun toward the sound.
“Drop it now!”
Kaycee jumped away from Rodney. Wheezing a curse, he aimed at the light —
Three shots split the night. Kaycee screamed. Hannah’s muffled cries rose from the car.
Holes torched in Rodney’s chest. He jerked in a death dance and thudded to the ground face down. His fingers still curved around the gun.
Running footsteps approached. Kaycee leapt toward Rodney. “Stay back!” the policeman yelled, but her body moved as if yanked by a ghostly arm. For surely, surely this evil being would twitch to life and kill them all . . .
With a grunt, she kicked the weapon away from Rodney’s fingers. It slid beneath the SUV.
The officer ran up, pushed Kaycee aside. His gun remained ready in his right hand. Bathed in light from the car beams, he knelt down and felt for a pulse in Rodney’s neck. Kaycee raised an arm to block the light from her eyes. In a stunning, mind-reversing second her blinking gaze registered two things: Hannah’s whitened face pressed against the car window — and the profile of a man risen from the dead.
FIFTY-FOUR
“Mark?” The name trembled from Kaycee’s tongue. She squeezed her eyes shut and reopened them, praying she wasn’t imagining the sight before her.
The policeman rose and slid his gun in its holster. For the first time Kaycee noticed the hard rise and fall of his shoulders. Lingering adrenaline and fear shafted across Mark’s face. He gazed at her as if shell-shocked. “He’s dead.”
Her brain scrambled for clarity. It wouldn’t come. “So are you.”