Page 114 of Strangers She Knows

Mara’s gaze found Kellen, fixed on her. She smiled, revved the engine, and sped toward her.

Kellen sprinted a few steps.

The helicopter’s shadow passed over them again, lower this time, bending the grasses.

Kellen heard a shotgun blast. She clutched at her heart. But she wasn’t hurt. She spun to see the truck half lift off the ground. The headlights grew dim.

Mara slammed on the brakes, skidded sideways. The windshield was shattered, the paint was pitted, and Mara wiped a trickle of blood off her face. She looked up, craning her neck to see the circling helicopter.

For the first time Kellen allowed herself to look up, really look up.

Yes. Coast Guard. Someone inside held a shotgun pointed at the truck.

Without the windshield between them, Kellen could see Mara clearly. Her gaze met Kellen’s. Her blue eyes blazed with that hellish flame. In their depths, Kellen read her doom. This time, Mara would kill her.

Unless the dynamite ignited.

The truck took off, moving toward Kellen so fast, she didn’t know if she would make it to the top of the cliff. The bumper slashed through the grasses, the engine’s heat breathed like a dragon in pursuit.

Another shot, close overhead.

Kellen spun to look.

More blood on Mara’s face. She wiped at it with a frantic hand. She had to know—nothing could save her now. But she kept coming.

Kellen ran backward for two steps. So she saw it.

With aboom, a ball of flame enveloped the F-100.

The earth shook. The explosion lifted the truck, then spat it out. The blazing F-100 slammed sideways onto the ground.

Kellen lifted her fists.

Victory!

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The fireball rolled toward Kellen.

Stupid premature celebration.

She dove sideways. Heat charred her, rolled over and around. She rolled in the damp grass. As she spun, she caught glimpses of the blazing debris, of the truck’s body twisting, flipping after her. The triumphant flames roared.

Kellen rolled down the slope, trying to get away, so terrified of the fire she didn’t dare stop.

Someone in the helicopter had shot the F-100. The dynamite had ignited,finallyignited, blowing body parts, Mara’s and the truck’s, all over this part of the island.

And Kellen was alive. She was alive! She was rolling toward the edge of the cliff.

She couldn’t stop.

She tore at the grasses, trying to turn herself.

The truck barreled past her and over the brink onto the rocks below.

The incline grew steeper and steeper.

Kellen couldn’t slow her descent. She was going over—

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