Guardian: Book One

by A.L. Crouch

Chapter 11

  Five minutes after Will left, Evelyn breezed into the station in a whirl of neon pink and heavy perfume. She smiled when she spotted me attempting to brew a fresh pot of coffee.

  “Well hey there Darling, I wasn’t expecting to see your beautiful face this afternoon,” she said and then hung her lime green coat on a hook.

  She was wearing a hot pink sweater dress with four-inch matching heels. I wondered how she could possibly be comfortable wearing shoes like that all day. I had never attempted to wear shoes of that height, but I was certain that if I ever tried I would last about a minute before I took a nosedive into the pavement.

  “Yeah, I’ve been quarantined here until Uncle Sulley gets back. We had a pretty rough night.”

  “Quarantined, my goodness. Is everything alright?” she asked, positioning herself behind her desk.

  “Well, someone broke into the house last night,” I said. “We’re trying to figure out who it was.”

  Evelyn gasped and put a manicured hand to her chest.

  “My word! Are you alright, Hun? That is just awful. Now who would do such a thing?”

  I shrugged. “Wish I knew.”

  “Well your uncle will get to the bottom of it. If anyone can figure it out, it’s Sullivan. Once that man has it in his mind to do something, he’ll see it through. Don’t you worry your pretty little head about it.”

  I remembered the way Sulley had laid out Rick an hour earlier.

  “He’s on it alright,” I said and then poured out a cup of coffee. “Would you care for a cup?”

  “Oh no, thank you. I don’t trust a thing that comes out of that pot.” She giggled.

  I sniffed my cup. It smelled more like coffee and less like burnt rubber this time so I decided to chance it and I took a tentative sip. The hot liquid scorched my tongue and the bitterness made me gag, so I set the cup down.

  “That’s probably very wise,” I coughed and Evelyn laughed.

  “I’ve worked here for eight years. I’ve learned to have my coffee at home.” She winked and turned in her chair when the phone on her desk rang.

  “Saluda police department,” she answered in a cheerful voice. “Oh hey Gertie! How are you this afternoon, Sugar?”

  I smiled at the perfect Hollywood southern bell that was Evelyn. I wondered if I would have picked up that overly-charming accent if I had gotten a chance to grow up here. Would I have picked up a liking for sweater dresses and big hair too?

  “You’re kidding. Really? But my birthday isn’t until next week. And they didn’t say who it was from? Well butter my butt and call me a biscuit. Isn’t that the sweetest thing,” Evelyn said and then covered the receiver with her hand in order to whisper to me.

  “Someone bought me a hair appointment for my birthday next week. Don’t even know who did it. Wanted to remain anonymous. Isn’t that just darling?”

  I nodded in simulated enthusiasm and then remembered what Will had said. Let me take care of Evelyn. I chuckled to myself. Brilliant.

  “You should totally go now. I’m stuck here anyways. I can answer the phones. Plus, Will should be back any minute. Uncle Sulley will be out for hours yet, you’ve got time. Go enjoy yourself, you deserve it.” I smiled innocently.

  “Well aren’t you the sweetest,” she said and then took her hand away from the receiver. “Well Getrie, I haven’t had my roots touched up in a coon’s age, do you have time to fix me up? You do?”

  Evelyn covered the receiver again. “Are you sure you don’t mind? I really shouldn’t . . .”

  I stood up and waved her off. “Of course not. Get on out of here and enjoy yourself.”

  Evelyn stood and bounced happily in her heels.

  “Why this is so unexpected. Okay Gertie, I’ll be right over,” she said and hung up the phone and grabbed her jacket. “You know, I bet that Jack Lovell up at the tavern is responsible for this.”

  She giggled as I helped her into her jacket. I held back my laughter.

  “He’s had his eye on me ever since the divorce, bless his heart,” she continued.

  “I’d say he is probably in good company.”

  “Oh thank you Hun, but I’m nothing to shake a stick at. If it weren’t for miracle workers like Gertie, I’d scare dogs off a meant wagon,” she said and grabbed her purse from her desk.

  I held the door for her as she rushed out of the station balancing on her pink stilts.

  “I’ll only be a couple of hours. If anyone calls with an emergency, just forward the number on to the chief,” she said with a wave.

  “Will do,” I called after her and went back inside.

  Relieved at the ease at which Evelyn was disposed of, I wandered back over to the coffee pot and picked up my cup. I was desperate for the caffeine, I just wasn’t sure I was THAT desperate. I regretted skipping breakfast too; my stomach was starting to growl. I took another sip and grimaced. The brew tasted very little like coffee and more what I thought an old gym sock might taste like.

  I grabbed three dusty sugar packets from a little basket on the table and dumped them in. I stirred the white crystals around with a tiny straw I also found in the basket. Holding my nose, I sipped again. The sweetness overpowered the dank bitterness and made it a little easier to tolerate.

  The phone on Evelyn’s desk rang and made me jump, spilling a small amount of coffee on the floor. I stared at the spill, half expecting it to dissolve the tile in a wisp of chemical smoke. When the phone rang again I went to the desk and considered a moment before picking it up. What if it was Sulley?

  “Saluda Police Department,” I answered in my best southern drawl, trying to mimic Evelyn as best I could.

  The voice on the line laughed. “You’ve been watching too much Andy Griffith.”

  I recognized Will’s voice and sighed with relief.

  “Well it was my first attempt at southern charm, give me a break.”

  “Well I take it by your performance that Evelyn fell for it?” he asked.

  “Faster than a hot knife through butter,” I tried again.

  “That was better. I’ll be there in five minutes. Be ready to jump in the car, Aunt Bee.”

  “Got it,” I said and hung up the phone.

  I retrieved my coffee and returned to Evelyn’s desk when I heard the strumming, gentle, behind me.

  “This isn’t a game Alexandra,” Donovan said.

  I spotted movement from the top of the desk and noticed a small vanity mirror sitting to the side of a stack of papers and some old family photos. Through it I could see Donovan leaning against the door, his face stern.

  “Do you really think you have to tell me that this isn’t a game? I know it’s not a game. In fact, I am scared out of my mind to go back there, but I have to do this.”

  Donovan sighed. “I don’t like it.”

  “What happened back there exactly? What did you sense? What was it . . . was it him?” I asked. “My mother’s murderer?”

  “Yes, I believe so. Only it was different. I couldn’t tell where he was coming from. The danger was everywhere all at once as if it came out of nowhere. And there was something else. A . . . sadness I haven’t felt before.”

  “Sadness? I don’t understand,” I said looking in his eyes through the mirror.

  “As much hatred and anger that was closing in, I felt an overwhelming anguish and desperation. I don’t like the idea of you going back there. It isn’t safe, Alexandra.”

  I thought for a moment, terrified by the description of what was possibly waiting for me at the bottom of that ledge. Nothing however could squelch the desperation and need that swelled up from my own soul. I had to have answers, the need for them consumed me. The cost of finding them didn’t matter anymore.

  “I’m going down there. It’s the only way I’ll be able to remember more about that night. Maybe I’ll remember something that can put this monster away for good. I have to try,” I said unwavering.

  In the reflection I could see Donovan shak
e his head. His jaw twitched as he glared at me with those sapphire eyes.

  “I don’t want you to go. You know I can only do so much to protect you. I’m here to keep you away from danger, not to march you right into the face of it.”

  “Is this about me going down to the site, or the fact that I’m going down there with Will?”

  I studied his reaction in the tiny mirror. He looked away for a minute, his eyes fierce. When he looked back at me I thought I saw a moment of sorrow just below their surface.

  “You can’t trust him, Alexandra. He’s already kept things from you. I fear that you’re not safe around him. You need to keep your distance. Please, Alexandra.”

  “What do you know that you’re not telling me? Just tell me that,” I demanded.

  When Donovan looked away, I knew I was right. There was something about Will he wasn’t telling me. But why?

  “I can’t say,” he answered. “There is no way to know anything for sure. Please, can you just trust me on this?”

  “What about me? Can’t you trust me? What is it you think you know? Is it so important that you’d stop me from trying to remember more? We could end this today! Fifteen years of my life I’ve lost, and it could all end right now. Can’t you see how important that is to me? I can do this.” I wiped a tear from my eye before it could escape, but I knew he saw.

  Donovan’s voice lowered and he looked back up to me, compassion replacing his stern tone.

  “Alexandra . . . he’s dangerous.”

  From the window I saw the squad car pull up in front of the building and heard a single honk. I turned from the mirror to where I knew Donovan stood. I focused on the spot where he should be and willed my mind to conjure up his image, but it was no use. I saw nothing but the peeling green paint of the doorframe. I angled my chin to where I guessed his face would be.

  “Look, I know you have a . . . a job to do. And I know that I am making your job more difficult here, but I have to do this because I have a job to do too. I have to stop this bastard. I have to do it for them, and I have to do it for me. And if you won’t help me, I understand. But I’ll go with someone who will.” I was surprised with how shaky my voice sounded.

  I stifled a sob and locked the door from the inside before going out. I almost turned back when I heard Donovan’s hushed voice behind me.

  “You’ve never been just a job,” he whispered, but I was too upset to let the words phase me.

  I tried to look normal as I hopped into the squad car beside Will. Giving him my best smile, I fought to not let my nerves show.

  “Are you ready for some repelling?” Will grinned next to me.

  I rolled my eyes at him. “You are enjoying this entirely too much.”

  “Beats sitting at the office all day,” he teased and handed me a white paper bag and motioned to a large coffee cup in the cup holder. “I grabbed you a muffin and a coffee. It’s not as good as the amazing breakfast you passed on this morning, but I figured you could use it.”

  I took the bag gratefully and pulled out the huge blueberry muffin and took an excited bite.

  “Thank you, I was dying,” I admitted and wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. “And sorry for bailing on breakfast, but I had to get out there and see that bastard face to face.”

  Will nodded and pulled the cruiser onto the road.

  “And how do you feel about him now that you’ve had a chance to think? Since you’ve seen his face, gauged him a bit? Still feel like he’s the one?”

  I swallowed a sip of coffee. “It has to be him. He’s the only one with any kind of reason for wanting to hurt us. . . for wanting me out of the house.”

  Will gripped the steering wheel tighter. “But you’re not entirely convinced are you?”

  I sighed and shook my head. He was right, there was something off about it all.

  “It’s like I said before, why would anyone kill people over a house? I know it meant a lot to his Mom, and he blames the loss of the house for losing his mom all the sooner, but it’s still just a damned house. But then again, looking into his eyes when he talked about my mom, seeing the disgust and hatred there . . . it scared me.”

  “I don’t know,” Will said taking the curves in the road faster than Sulley had, forcing me to grip the side of my seat to remain steady, “some people are just messed up in the head and there isn’t a rhyme or reason for it. It doesn’t have to make sense to you, just to them. People who do this kind of thing aren’t rational. Remember that.”

  I contemplated that thought, turning to my window. A grey pall still hung over the trees and the threat of rain darkened the skies. The sound of Will’s cell phone turned me back to him. He fetched it from his pocket.

  “Galia,” he answered. “Mmhmm, yes that is very interesting. That could be our vehicle. Stay with it and call me if you get anything. Thanks man, I owe you one.”

  I stared at will as he hung up the phone and put it back into his pocket with his free hand.

  “Was that about the information I gave you earlier? About the red SUV?” I asked excited.

  “Yes it was.”

  I set down the muffin and glared at him. Waiting for him to go on.

  “I called an old friend who’s still on the force up in New York. He has a talent for tracking down information. He says a red Bronco was surrendered to a scrap yard in Waynesville the morning after the accident. The shop records indicate there was major damage to the front driver’s side of the car and the side door . . . the exact kind of damage that, based on what you’ve said, the vehicle from that night would have sustained. It’s a long shot, but it could be something,” Will explained, keeping his eyes on the road.

  “How can we know if it’s the same vehicle that hit us?”

  Will braked as they came up to the last curve before the crash site.

  “There’s not much to go on. No record of who surrendered the vehicle. My buddy is doing some digging on the Bronco’s VIN number. If we’re lucky, it will tie to Brightman.”

  “Pray we luck out then,” I said and turned again to the window just as we passed by the small side street and came up on the crash site.

  Will slowed the cruiser and taking a look in his mirrors, made a three point turn in the middle of the road and parked as far over as he could beside the lilies which still adorned the embankment. He got out and I followed as he and went to the trunk where he grabbed a long rope, a harness and some metal carabineers. Then he grabbed the gun holster from deep inside the trunk and flung it over his shoulders.

  “Why are you wearing that?” I asked, startled by the sight of the gun perched in its holster and hanging by Will’s side. Were we going into battle?

  Will gathered up the rope and harness into a small pile and motioned for me to grab the rest.

  “Well, I figure it can’t hurt,” he said and then took in my worried face. “Look, someone is after you. I hate this thing more than anyone. You know that. But I would rather have it and not need it than need it and not have it.”

  I considered the possibilities and shuddered. I remembered the danger that had been so thick in the air just over an hour ago. As much as I hated the thought of Will having to use his gun, I hated the thought of being caught helpless without it even more.

  “I guess you’re right. Just . . . be careful with that thing,” I said and grabbed the rest of the gear and shut the trunk.

  I followed Will to the base of a large tree where he handed me the end of the rope.

  “Here, hang onto this,” he said and then took the rest of the rope and carefully wrapped it around the tree trunk, slipping here and there on the moist leaves and pine needles that blanketed the forest ground. When he came back with the other end of the rope, the knees of his uniform were speckled with damp soil and moss.

  Will devised a complex knot so quickly that I couldn’t keep up with each end of the rope entwined throughout his fingers. He pulled the now free end tightly and the slack tightened around the base of the tree.
Will picked up the harness and motioned for me to put it on.

  “Ladies first,” he grinned.

  “Oh no!” I protested. “You’re going down there first. I’ll follow.”

  Will sighed and wiped his brow with the back of his hand.

  “I would rather be the one to go first, believe me, but I’m afraid it’s not an option unless you have an idea of how to put this harness on and attach it to the main line.”

  I thought for a moment, fighting to find a way around the fact that I had never rappelled before and therefore had no clue how to strap that dog leash looking thing onto my rear end. Grunting, I surrendered with a shrug. Will smirked and began to strap the harness around my right thigh.

  “I’ll be right behind you, okay?” he reassured.

  I contained the urge to argue and raised my arms so he could adjust the straps at my waist. Once he had me strapped into the harness he led me to the edge steadying me with his hand, and strapped me to the rope using some more fancy knots and carabineers. I chanced a look behind me at the drop and suppressed the urge to vomit.

  “I suddenly remembered that I have a pretty bad fear of heights. Of this height in particular,” I panted.

  Will finished strapping me in and placing both hands on my shoulders, looked me in the eyes.

  “That’s completely understandable, considering . . .” He glanced over the edge and then back at me. “You are going to do fine. You can go as fast or slow as you want.”

  He handed me the line and showed me how to hold it and let out slack.

  “Just keep two hands on the top and squeeze. I’ll be right here.”

  Suppressing the growing panic, I nodded. “Okay.”

  Will helped me over the edge and I told myself not to look down, but just as quickly as I thought it I forgot it and peeked behind me. My heart jumped into my throat at the sight of the expanse below and the base of the great pine that had stopped our fall fifteen years ago. It looked to be a miles down from this angle.

  “Good, now just ease up on the rope and start walking down with your legs,” Will instructed.

  I took two steps and eased my grip on the rope. When the line jolted me backwards, I squeezed as hard as I could and hugged the line to me. Gasping, I shut my eyes and waited for the world to stop spinning. The panic consumed me.

  “Alex, you’ve got to get a better grip on the line. Ease off slowly and then walk it down. I know you’re scared, but we don’t have a lot of time,” Will yelled.

  Panic filled my ears with the sound of my own heart and I lost Will’s words in the thundering against my chest. I willed myself to move – I just had to get to the bottom. Then the strumming surrounded me starting at my left shoulder. He was here. Tears of relief came to my eyes with his presence.

  “You were right. I shouldn’t have come. This was stupid. I can’t do this,” I whispered.

  “Yes you can. We’ll do it together,” Donovan said against my ear. “I won’t let you fall.”

  I felt his warmth on my hands, which were clenching the rope as tightly as they could, the grooves burning into my flesh.

  “It’s okay, I’ve got you,” Donovan whispered and I eased my fingers slightly and let the rope side through my palm ever so gently.

  We lowered slowly but smoothly into the brush. I used my legs to maneuver around shrubbery and bushes and concentrated on the warmth on my hands, imagining Donovan in control of the rope. I knew he wouldn’t let me fall.

  A few feet further and I could see the brush thinning and the base of the great pine tree just below. I was almost there. I took slow, steady steps towards the tree, getting snagged here and there on a prickly branch or protruding twig, but continuing on. I couldn’t help but to notice the strange quiet that pervaded the woods around us. It was as if even the birds and crickets preferred to not visit this particular spot. It sent a cold shiver down my back.

  “Do you feel that?” I asked Donovan, wondering if he was picking up on the same foreboding energy.

  “I do, and I don’t like it.”

  “I should have never come. You were right, I’m sorry.”

  “No, you were right about coming down here. What you were wrong about is thinking that I would not be with you,” he said.

  “I know. It’s your job to protect me. I’m sorry I make it so hard,” I said with sudden regret.

  I took one final glance behind me and let the relief ease away some of the tension in my shoulders. The ground flattened out and I was able to stand, once again, on level ground.

  “I could leave if I wanted to,” Donovan said. “We have all been given free will to choose. You have never been a job, Alexandra. I stay because I chose to. Your safety is my first priority; you need to make it yours as well.”

  I felt his warmth leave my hands as I straightened.

  “Now, let’s do what we came here to do. I’m right here with you,” he assured.

  I was overwhelmed with gratitude that Donovan was with me and I used his strength to continue my mission. Wiping my face with my sweater sleeve, I wiggled out of the harness. Once free, I yelled up to Will who pulled the harness back in.

  I walked over to the base of the pine for a moment, remembering. Everything else around me vanished except for the tree and the strumming keeping watch over me. I put my palm against the bark and closed my eyes, trying to make sense of the storm of emotions welling within me at the sight of it.

  This tree had saved my life, but in the same instant had claimed my mother’s. I opened my eyes and looked out over the sloped landscape noting that if the tree had not stopped our fall that night, the car would have rolled and fallen hundreds of feet further.

  “This tree stopped our fall,” I began, my voice coming out as a hoarse whisper.

  “Yes,” Donovan said.

  “It also killed my mom. When we crashed, it killed her.” I forced out the words through clenched teeth.

  I felt Donovan’s hand on my shoulder and I closed my eyes again, seeing the memories of twisted metal and bloodied hair.

  “No Alexandra,” he said. “The evil inside of a man killed your mother. It’s that evil that I have to keep you from.”

  Just then we heard a crashing in the bushes ahead and Will emerged from the brush. He unclipped himself from the main line.

  “That wasn’t as steep as I thought it would be. We could have gone it on foot after all, I think. It gets steeper further down though,” he said and then took in my solemn expression. “Did you remember something already?”

  “No,” I said. “Not yet.”

  Will studied me a second more and then took a look around.

  “Be careful, there’s a good drop on the left,” he warned, gesturing behind me. “Looks pretty flat along this ridge though.”

  I stepped away from the tree to where I guessed the car had come to a rest all those years ago. Will followed me with his eyes.

  “What is it?”

  “I remember the footsteps,” I said focusing.

  “Footsteps?”

  “When he finally gave up, when the police were coming, he ran that way.” I pointed back the way we had come down, but did not look, keeping the image in my head. “I could hear him running away.”

  “That makes sense,” Will agreed. “He would have left his vehicle up the road where it’s not as steep, where he could hide it among the tees. Do you remember anything else?”

  I could feel Will’s eyes burning into me, but I was too lost in my memories to look at him. I concentrated instead on every image and every sound that I could conjure from that night. I closed my eyes but all I could see were flashes of light and a gloved hand wielding a serpentine knife.

  “No,” I said and opened my eyes. I met Will’s intense stare. “Nothing.”

  “Are you sure? Try as hard as you can. I have to know . . . we have to know,” Will persisted coming closer. “Maybe if you put yourself in the exact same spot . . .”

  Taking a step back, I focused on the t
ree. I strained to remember, through the flashes of light and memory, where I had been pinned in relation to the tree. I took another step back, my eyes transfixed to the tree before me, but seeing into the past.

  In my mind, the brisk fall air and autumn colors melted into a torrent of rain and smoke and darkness. I looked out through the shattered glass between bursts of light and plunging shadow. When the angle was right, I sat down and closed my eyes, immersing myself entirely in that moment fifteen years ago. I narrated for Will.

  “The windows were smashed on this side,” I said gesturing, but not looking. “There was a lot of smoke and the rain, it made it hard to see. The car was upside down, but I was pinned underneath the back seat. I could see.” I took a shallow breath. “Gary hanging from the front seat. And Mom . . .”

  My voice broke.

  “You don’t have to do this Alexandra,” Donovan whispered beside me, his voice filled with concern.

  “Go on Alex, what else do you see?” Will urged.

  “There was blood where her seat used to be. Blood everywhere . . . and her hair . . . her hand . . . she had been thrown from the car,” I continued, tears falling unnoticed down my cheeks. “I tried to yell for Gary. Then footsteps.”

  “What did you see Alex?” Will’s voice was tense.

  “All I could see was a shadow. A tall figure . . . heavy steps. He crossed to Mom’s side of the car first and just stood there . . . looking. I called to him, but he didn’t respond. He just stood there! I screamed for him to help her. The gloved hand . . . it stroked her hair.”

  I heard Will sigh and let out a troubled breath. It was drowned out by the thunder in my reverie.

  “He walked away to the other side of the car. Gary started to wake up. I screamed for him to wake up!” I cried out, lost in the memory.

  “Alexandra, you have to stop,” I heard Donovan call to me from some distant shore of my mind.

  “He killed him! I heard him scream! And then it was quiet. All I could hear was the rain. I didn’t understand what was happening. And then I saw him . . .”

  “What did you see? Did you see his face?” Will was shouting, the urgency in his voice permeating the darkness.

  “A knife!” I squealed. “He had a knife. He tried to get to me . . . again and again. I couldn’t move, all I could do was scream. He wouldn’t stop . . . he wouldn’t stop!”

  “His face! Concentrate on his face! Who was it Alex? Who was it? Concentrate!” Will yelled.

  “No Alexandra,” Donovan called.

  “Did you see who it was? Did you see? Focus!” Will yelled again.

  “Damn it, why are you pushing her so hard!” Donovan screamed at Will, but it fell on deaf ears.

  “Alexandra, you need to get up now. We have to go!” I heard Donovan pleading to me in the distance.

  But in my mind I could see him in the back seat with me, instructing me, helping me survive. “I am with you.” I heard him say, the strumming soothing me. I looked into his face. For the first time I noticed the tears that glistened on his cheeks.

  “You’re in danger, we have to go now!”

  His velvet voice, thick with apprehension, shouted the warning. The urgency of it jarred me from my memories and I opened my eyes to see Will standing over me, his face tense and reddened.

  “You saw something didn’t you? What did you remember?” he demanded.

  “I couldn’t see his face. I was bleeding . . . and the rain,” I managed.

  “You saw him, didn’t you?” he yelled.

  “No, damn it . . . his face, it was covered . . .”

  “Alexandra!” Donovan yelled.

  “Ssshhh!” Will shot up abruptly and held a hand up to motion me to be silent.

  I stood and wiped my eyes. I followed Will’s gaze behind me, but saw nothing.

  “What is . . .?”

  “He’s here,” Donovan said from behind me. “It’s time to go now! This way Alexandra!”

  “Someone’s coming,” Will whispered, not taking his eyes off of the direction we had come. “On my say, run that way along the ridge as fast as you can. I’ll hold him off.”

  Will drew his gun from its holster.

  “What? No . . .”

  “Alexandra!” Donovan pleaded.

  “Go now!” Will yelled and I hesitated for a second before turning to run as fast as I could along the ridge.

  “This way!” Donovan yelled in front of me and I followed his voice into the woods.

  I risked a look behind me and saw Will raise his gun. I turned as a shot ripped through the unnatural silence around us and echoed like the hideous crack of a death drum. I screamed and fell over my feet, landing noisily onto the damp, leaf covered earth. Donovan’s voice was immediately in my ear.

  “Get up Alexandra, you have to run. Get up!”

  I stumbled to my feet, finally getting my trembling limbs beneath me. I looked back at Will, but saw no one.

  “Run!” Donovan yelled again and I took off in the direction of his voice.

  “What about Will?” I screamed.

  “You can’t worry about him right now, just stay with me. You have to keep running!”

  Before I could protest, another shot erupted from behind me and splinters from a nearby tree stung into my flesh as the bark exploded from the impact of the bullet. Screaming, I covered my head with my arms but kept running.

  “This way! Get lower to the ground,” Donovan yelled just in front of me.

  I could feel the warmth of his hand on my wrist, leading me through the trees and brush. Crouching down, I kept my head as low as possible. The footsteps were heavy in the distance behind me, running towards us. I wanted to turn, just for a second, to see who was after me, the need to know outweighing my concern for my life.

  “Alexandra, keep running! Stay with me!” Donovan shouted, anticipating my hesitation.

  I forced myself to not look back, to keep moving forward. Another shot erupted and hit a tree just in front of me, sending more shards of tree bark into my face and arms. Ducking instinctively, I lost my footing and Donovan’s grasp on my wrist. With a scream I slipped over the edge of the ridge.

  I slid down the steep embankment, smashing into bushes and shrubs which snagged my legs and back. Desperately, I tried to grab hold of something, a branch or a root, but I couldn’t. I was moving too fast and with too much momentum. When I came to the bottom of the embankment, my body rolled uncontrollably until I finally came to a rest beneath a damp thicket of dead brush and fallen limbs.

  For several seconds I was afraid to move, or even to breathe. With my eyes closed, I searched the silence surrounding me for the strumming. I heard it, felt Donovan’s warm touch on my forehead, but it was different somehow. The strumming came slower, and seemed fainter than before.

  “Alexandra, are you alright? Open your eyes for me,” Donovan whispered into my ear.

  I wanted to get lost in his velvety voice and could almost feel him as he knelt beside me in the muck: solid and strong and in the flesh. When I opened my eyes, I saw him kneeling there, looking down on me. In that instant, I could see every feature of his magnificent face, his raven black hair and those magnificent eyes. I could see into their haunting blue depths as they looked over me with warmth and worry.

  Startled at the revelation, I shot up and winced at a new, sharp pain in my right thigh. I looked down and saw a red gash through a fresh tear in my jeans. Straightening out my leg, I moved it around. Once I determined that it was not broken I tuned back to Donovan, but his figure was gone. All that remained of his presence was the strumming, slow and faded. I choked back a sob and started to get to my feet.

  “No, wait!” Donovan warned.

  I froze and listened. I could hear a shuffling of feet traversing the embankment above us. My heart dropped and I looked frantically around, desperate for an escape route. I knew I wouldn’t be very quick on my feet if I tried to run and the ground was littered with fallen debris, dead leaves, and shrubbery. An
y kind of movement would be easy to hear and to track. As the shuffling grew louder my chance to escape diminished. Out of options, I decided to make a run for it and began to rise.

  “No Alexandra! Lay back down. You need to sink into these dead branches and leaves! Hide yourself in them,” Donovan instructed, his voice confident and firm.

  Without hesitation I laid back down and scooted into the pile of fallen brush as far as I could where it was damp and muddy. I frantically covered myself with branches and debris, digging into the moist earth with my legs and arms.

  “That’s it, good. Cover your face. Hurry!”

  I pushed a branch in front of my face. It was covered in dead, soggy leaves and smelled of mold and wet earth. The world around me grew dark as I covered my head as best I could. Bitter panic rose in my throat as I remembered the last time I had wedged myself out of reach in the damp darkness.

  I clung to the strumming in my mind, but didn’t dare let my sight wander from the fissures of daylight seeping in through the cracks between the branches and leaves.

  “Good, now stay very still. I need you to remain absolutely silent. Do not move!” Donovan whispered urgently beside me.

  He was with me inside this murky, dank sarcophagus. I could feel the warmth of his arms around me, steadying me as the shuffling turned to heavy footsteps that jogged the remainder of the embankment and then began to stalk towards us.

  I didn’t dare move, didn’t dare blink. I could only lie there motionless, listening to the heavy footfalls as they approached and grew louder with every crunch of dead foliage. I strained my eyes to see something, anything through the minuscule cracks around my face.

  The footsteps came to a rest a foot from my head and I thought for a moment that I might throw up, the fear manifesting as a whirlwind churning inside of my abdomen. I tried to focus on the strumming, on the gentle “ssshhh” against my ear and the feel of Donovan’s warm arms around me, but I was distracted by a flickering of light that danced in the shadows of my organic tomb.

  Following the flicker with my eyes to a crack just above my face, a twinkling caught my eye. I stared at the play of light until my eyes focused. When they did, my heart stopped and my body stiffened uncontrollably. There shimmering in the daylight, inches from my face, was a knife – its serpentine handle twisted around a gloved hand.