Page 89 of Run for Her Life
She rolled out of the way, curling her body under a root concealed by a bush. Something was happening to her. Her vision was sharpening and cracking. Her heart was thundering against her rib cage.
Adrenaline-laced darts.
Zoe peeked over the ledge and spotted Jim holding a rifle pointed in her direction. “Don’t do this, Jim!”
Silence.
“You’re only making things worse!” She breathed through the pain.
Instead, Jim floated toward her with the rifle.
Jim Gray. Forty-two. Software engineer. The sheriff’s husband. Nerd, quirky, the kind of man that got on with everyone. She was met with stony silence for the longest timebefore he finally spoke, his voice throaty and deeper. “Finish the game.”
As the adrenaline began to soak in, the pain began to dissipate. Zoe felt her identity was dissolving and someone else long dormant inside her was resurfacing.
Emily.
Emily shot up and ran through the woods just like she had many, many times in her dreams. Zoe didn’t like the green, didn’t like nature, it was too unpredictable, too obscure. But Emily had thrived in places Zoe hadn’t.
Jim was right behind her, his footsteps loud, the rifle clicking and shooting. She ducked. It missed her, striking the tree next to her. Then another one. This dart hit the back of her knee and she lurched forward, crashing against another tree. It should have hurt but the pain was dulled by the fierce hormone pumping through her veins.
Everything was too fast, too bright, and toobig. She was short of breath, and sweat matted her skin. A heaviness began pulling her chest inward.
He hadn’t said, “Play the game.” He’d said, “Finish the game”.
The cabin. Lisa. Lisa was the key. She must be inside. The cabin was farther away now. She picked up a rock and threw it to the other side. A rabbit must have skittered across because the grass rustled. Through the bushes, she watched Jim head in the other direction. Seizing the opportunity, she sprinted toward the cabin.
Her heart thudded in her ears. She didn’t mind the slippery ground with roots waiting to trap the unsuspecting walker, or the cobwebs of moss that brushed her face. She blended in with her surroundings, ducked low, crawling to the cabin on her elbows and knees.
A shot rang out. Loud. Making everything shake.
In the haze of the stress, she realized it was a gun. Not a rifle shooting hunting darts. She patted her body. Relief surged through her feeling her gun was in her holster. Where did Jim get a gun? And why was her skin thrumming so hard?
Shit. Shit. Shit.
If Jim was shooting a gun, he was desperate. She finally reached the cabin. It was dark and damp and cold inside. An unconscious Lisa was splayed on the ground, a trail of blood running down the side of her face.
“Lisa!” Zoe ran to her and felt her thready pulse. She was alive. But she had been hit on the head. Zoe grabbed her phone, but there was no signal. Lisa’s gun was missing—that was likely what Jim had fired.
What was going to happen now? There was only one way to finish the game. It was too harsh, though. Zoe would have never done it.
But Emily could. Emily could do everything Zoe couldn’t.
With a grunt, she hauled Lisa’s body up, transferring her weight onto her, and limped outside the cabin.
“Jim,” she yelled, her voice echoing through the woods. The skin on her back with the buried darts began to throb. “Show yourself or I’ll kill her!” She pressed the gun against the neck of Lisa, who was still passed out and like a deadweight on her.
Jim appeared from in between the trees with his blank, startled stare. With a trembling hand he pointed a gun at her. His rifle hung over his shoulder.
“Game over, Jim.” She bared her teeth. She was angry,furious.How dare he hunt her? How dare he treat her like an animal?
Seeing Lisa, his attitude changed. “Don’t hurt her,” he said softly.
“Then put the gun down.”
He exploded. Hair wild, face pale and streaked with dirt and tears. He marched up to them with a frantic energy that would have normally unnerved Zoe. “I can’t be here, Agent Storm. You don’t understand, do you? It’s one foot in this world and one foot in the other. I can’t promise that I won’t do it again. I can’t help myself.”
She swallowed hard, her breaths choppy and seething. “I don’t care about your excuses. You don’t get to hunt me or anyone else anymore. Put the gun down or watch your wife die.”
