Page 54 of Vanished in the Mist
“I’m just…making conversation. Have you…saved…others? Like me?”
His eyes narrowed. “Why all the questions?”
She shrugged. “I just… I want to know more about you. You’re my hero, right?” She nearly choked on the words, struggling to keep a straight face. “But I don’t even know how you heard about me, or knew about Troy.”
“That guy at your cabin? The one who threw a knife at you?”
“Yes.”
He shrugged and jerked her arm, forcing her to move faster. “I’d heard around town about you and that boat guy looking into my business. Didn’t know about this… Troy. I went to your cabin to send you a warning. I was going to leave that otherbully’s body as a message to tell you to keep your nose out of my business or you’d end up like him. But when I got there he was threatening you. That’s when I knew what I had to do.” He nodded sagely, as if his explanation made perfect sense.
“And what is that?” she asked.
He frowned and shoved her again. “Just like you said. That guy was bullying you. That’s when I knew he needed to learn the lesson and that you were the one who needed saving. What are you, stupid or something?”
“I’m sorry.”
He grunted and trudged along, every once in a while jerking her arm to make her go faster.
She skirted close to bushes and low hanging branches, hoping to catch some fabric on one of them as a bread crumb, a clue, for someone to find if they did come looking for her. But every time she got caught he stopped and carefully removed any trace of fabric, smiling as if he knew her game.
A few minutes later, she tried again to learn something, anything that might help her figure out what was going on and what kinds of weaknesses he might have. She needed leverage of some type if she was going to either talk her way out of this situation or plan an escape.
“Did you, ah, teach a lesson to anyone else that I might have heard of? Besides Troy. Did you teach Tristan a lesson? Jessica?”
His smug smile was his only answer. But she understood the answer as if he’d shouted at her. He’d killed both of them. Her insides ran cold. She was in the woods with a psychopath. And he’d turned his latest attentions on her.
She started to shake.
He glanced sideways at her again, not slowing. “Something wrong with you? You’re shaking like you’re cold. You sick or something?” He jerked her to a halt and whirled her to face him,holding up his knife. “I don’t want you to get me sick. There ain’t any doctors up in these mountains and most of the cabins will be filled up with tourists in the next few weeks and months. Medicine’s going to be scarce and hard to find without risking being seen.” He pressed the knife’s tip against her throat. “Answer me. Are you sick?”
She lifted her head ever so slightly, trying to avoid the sharp blade. “No. I’m not sick. I swear. I’m just…nervous. You know, around new people.”
He narrowed his eyes again as if weighing her words for truth. Then his dark eyes widened as if in understanding. And he smiled. “You’re scared ain’t ya? Scared of old Phil?”
“Phil? Is that your name?”
He roared with rage and slammed a fist against her jaw.
She whirled around and fell onto the ground, gnashing her teeth against the pain to keep from crying out. She didn’t want to give him that satisfaction.
He stood over her and leaned down until he, and his knife, were inches from her face. “I told you my name is the Phantom.”
She should have said something, begged his forgiveness. But her jaw ached and throbbed. And she was so angry she didn’t think she could speak right now without telling him exactly what she thought of him. He’d probably slash her throat to shut her up. So she remained silent.
He finally straightened and stepped back. “Get up.”
She was eye level with a sensitive part of his anatomy, thankfully covered by grimy jeans. She wondered if she could slam her fist against him hard enough to drop him to his knees before he could stab her.
He grabbed her arm and yanked her to her feet, then slashed the knife against her left arm, leaving a streak of red across it.
She swore and grabbed her arm.
He laughed, then sobered, pointing. “Move. We’re almost there.”
Hate wasn’t usually in her vocabulary. But she didn’t feel an ounce of remorse about hating this man right now. She marched forward, holding her throbbing arm. One benefit was that it hurt so much she barely noticed her aching jaw anymore.
A moment later, the trees seemed to fall away as they entered a clearing. She stopped so quickly he ran into her, then swore.
