More like they knew we were here and were coming to get us the whole time.
How could they? We haven’t even reached them yet.
The guy leered at the two girls. He was drunk and it showed. His chunky red face creased into an idiot smile as he sized them up. He waved a can of beer in his left hand. A hunting rifle hung loosely in the other. He wore a red check shirt gaping open, one side tucked into blue jean pants. The other side hung down his thigh.
Thick, black hair covered his barrel chest.
Shit-faced, Bonnie muttered to herself.
A hootnanny hillbilly, straight out of Deliverance.
The guy’s unsteady legs were thrust into tan cowboy boots.
He’d appeared on the path, suddenly, out of the patch of pines. The girls gasped as they saw how near to them he really was. About five yards away and weaving in their direction all the time.
Answering shouts and a couple of disbelieving grunts came from the goon’s buddies.
“You’re shitting us, right?”
“Get your backsides on over here and find out!”
One shouted back that he’d be along when he’d had a pee.
Bonnie grabbed Andrea’s arm.
“Okay, let’s run for it!”
“You bet ...”
Mashing their hats well down onto their heads, they turned tail and ran back past the pines and onward down the grass track. Their packs pounded their backs like lumpy lead weights.
Dead Mule Pass, bere me come!
“Hey, come on back here, now ... We won’t hurt you none. Jest want to be friendly like. Come on back, y’hear?”
The thick voice taunted them over the rapidly growing distance Then, in a sing-song voice that sounded loud and close, “Don’t know what you’re missin’!”
He was on them.
Right behind and closing in.
Must be one of those gun-happy, bit cat killers with nothing better to do, Bonnie thought in disgust. Probably a whole bunch of them back there. Trackin’ down mountain lions, drinkin’ themselves shit-faced first, to get their courage up.
The girls stumbled over the rough grass, regained their footing and picked up speed again.
But the guy was still close enough for them to hear him grunting for breath as he chugged along.
Must be fit. I’ll give him that, Bonnie marveled. Must’ve flown down that track ...
A gunshot cracked overhead.
Then, “Christ Jesus! Aawwgg .”
Bonnie paused and looked back.
Their tormentor lay sprawled headlong on the track.
She saw him wave a fist in their direction, his red, swollen face mouthing obscenities.
She hurried along after Andrea.
The girls got away while the going was good. They reached the rock they’d been sitting on earlier and took the trail to Dead Mule Pass. Andrea seemed to have forgotten her objection to this particular route. They pounded along for a while, then slowed up slightly, figuring they’d cleared enough distance between themselves and the guys on the ridge to make a clean getaway.
Even so, they decided it was better not to linger.
They strode steadily down the track for some twenty minutes before Andrea spoke. She was almost breathless and her words huffed from her lips in short bursts.
“That was a narrow miss ... Couldn’t take anymore hassle from rampant males. Had enough of them to last me a lifetime ... Men are such chauvinistic PIGS. Thinking that every woman is fair game. AND, that no problem at all, women are just standing around WAITING for them to get into their knickers ... God, they’re such SHTT-heads!”
Bonnie slowed down to catch breath. She smiled philosophically.
“Yeah. Carried on past those guys and we’d have been dead meat for sure.”
“Bonnie ...”
“What is it?”
Silence.
Bonnie waited for her to say her piece.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry..” Andrea muttered, shame-faced. “I never get things right, do I?”
“Go on! You’re not doing too badly. You’re a bit of a girl, is all.” Bonnie humped her pack more comfortably on her back and turned to smile at Andrea.
Relieved that their earlier tension seemed to have gone, Andrea responded eagerly. A nice warm feeling passed between them.
Thirty minutes farther down the trail they called a halt.
They were parched and badly needed a reviving sip of water—co! d would have been nice, but they were more than ready to settle for warm. Twisting out of their packs, they dumped them onto the grass and flung themselves down alongside.
Eventually, their breathing became easier, more measured. Lying there together, in silence, they relaxed. The herby fragrance of the warm grass beneath them felt good. Through half-closed eyes they watched the cloudless sky overhead and listened to the distant stream, tumbling and gurgling through the rocks.
The sound reminded them that they hadn’t taken that drink yet. Hadn’t had one since they broke camp this morning. Struggling to a sitting position, they unfastened their packs and brought out their water bottles. Taking long, leisurely swigs, their tension drifted away and they felt, for the first time in hours—days, it seemed—that danger was now way behind them. Andrea yawned and they both stretched out again on the warm, rough grass It smelled sweet and clean.
“Sure you don’t mind coming along this route, after all? In spite of your premonition?” Bonnie asked, chewing on a stalk of grass. “No option, y’know. With those creeps blocking our path.”
“I probably got it wrong way around in the first place,” Andrea replied cheerfully. “My premonition could’ve been warning me against taking the lonesome pine route, not this one. Could’ve misinterpreted the message. In which case, looks like everything’s turned out okay!”
“And what about Rick? Still lusting after him?”
“Goddamn it, Bonnie. Gimme a break. I’m sorry I made a fool of myself, believe me. But Rick’s history. He’s no dif ferent than the rest ... Really.”
She found Bonnie’s hand and gave it a squeeze.
“Could be,” Bonnie murmured, hardly daring to believe the way things were going. “Anyway, don’t you dare say sorry again ...”
Leaning up on her right elbow, Andrea turned to face her. Looking deep into Bonnie’s eyes, she leaned over a little and kissed her gently on the lips.
Then on her cheeks, her forehead, and, as Bonnie closed her eyes, Andrea touched her lids, gently, with her lips. Then her mouth again. She was more demanding this time.
With a faint gasp of delight, Bonnie twisted quickly and came on top of her. Then, shifting her weight off Andrea, she leaned away and lifted up the soft gray T-shirt. She sighed when she saw Andrea’s small, perfectly formed breasts. They were smooth shiny mounds, the color of milky coffee. Her nipples, exposed to the warm, balmy air, grew hard and pert as she looked at them.
Bonnie drew away from Andrea and lay, head resting on one arm, looking at her.
No need for words.
They were together now. That’s all that mattered. Wasn’t this what their vacation had been about? Finding each other?
They’d found each other all right.
Now, all they wanted was to get away from this place ... return to Santa Cruz and get on with their lives. Together.
Bonnie felt the joy grow inside her, it blossomed until she could contain it no longer. Their eyes met, lingered and finally drew apart.
Andrea gave Bonnie a long, slow smile, their hands reached out and, for some time, they lay there. Content to be together. Staring at the hot sky. At a wisp of cloud, which had appeared, it seemed, from nowhere. Andrea watched it move across the broad sweep of blue.
“Bonnie?”
“Uh-huh?”
“Y’know Rick,” Andrea felt awkward about bringing Rick into the equation. Especially just after she and Bonnie had made love for the first time. But she had to get it out of her system, once and for all. She moved her hea
d so she could see Bonnie’s face. Bonnie was suddenly quite still. She kept on staring skyward.
“Well, I didn’t want him and all that stuff. I want you to know that, Bonnie. I was testing myself. Wondering how it would be—y’know? Seeing if I could go through with it. I’m glad he didn’t take me up on it now. Because I know it was you that I really wanted, Bonnie. It was you all the time. Only, I was too scared to admit it ...”
“You’re a dummy. Y’know that, Andrea Winston?”
“You think so?”
“I sure do. You’re such a girl; and I love you for it.” With studied nonchalance, Bonnie still gazed skyward. Andrea grinned, leaned up on an elbow and kissed her full on the mouth. It felt good. She did it again. They both laughed. Bonnie rolled over, quickly, grabbed her by the shoulders and held her down. And kissed her. And for a while they were lost in each other.
Drawn to the heat, a bunch of mosquitoes danced around their faces. Bonnie swore, rolled over and swatted them out of her hair, off her face and arms. Andrea, already sitting up, slapped busily at her legs. Strange how they hadn’t noticed the little bastards before ...
They gave up swatting and, laughing at themselves, fell back onto the soft grass. Their lips still curving with their own secret smiles, they remained in silence for a while longer. Neither wanted to break the spell; their amazing, magical bond that had changed everything for them both.
They grinned and toasted themselves with the last of their water.
Chinking the sun-warmed bottles together, they drained the final dregs.
They sat in silence for a while longer. Then Bonnie looked at her wristwatch. Almost an hour had passed since they’d made love. She said to Andrea, “You okay to carry on? I vote we get moving. Been out here in the wilds, livin’ next to nature, for too long. Kinda gets to you after a while!”
Andrea blushed and smiled. “You’re the boss,” she said.
Feeling hot, happy, and emotionally replete, Bonnie and Andrea both felt a twist of sadness at leaving this, their special spot in the wilderness. They fastened up their packs, shrugged into the straps, adjusted themselves and, hand in hand, continued along the trail toward Mulligan Lake.
Chapter Twenty-eight
The car stopped again.
There was a quiet sound of the latch releasing. The trunk lid started to lift open. Gillian, on her back with the belt and rope clamped in her teeth, bolted up. She grabbed the edge of the trunk, flung a leg over it, and rolled. She dropped. She heard the car door shut. Her side rammed the bumper. She heard rushing footfalls as she hit the ground. Flipping over, she thrust herself up and ran.
• Holden raced at her from behind. His breath came out in snarls. Gillian hissed in pain as something raked her right calf. She kicked the leg forward as fast as she could and heard the rustly sound of a body smashing onto the pine needles that matted the forest floor. Holden gasped out a quick “Awg!”
A glance back. He was skidding on his belly. He must’ve made a dive for her.
The thought flashed through Gillian’s mind that she should whirl around and try to overpower him while he was down. She tore the belt and rope from her teeth and pictured herself beating him with them, but she kept on running, knowing it would’ve been foolish to fight him. This way, at least, she was sure to gain the few moments it would take him to get back onto his feet.
She dashed through the pines. Springy limbs smacked her body and bent away. Others scratched. She leaped over rocks, over barriers of fallen trees. Rocks and twigs and pine cones punished her feet. But all the pain seemed to belong to someone else. She was free. Though Holden was pounding through the woods behind her, she still had her lead, she still had her chance.
I’ll make it.
He won’t get me again!
He’d had her but someone had come along and he’d rushed her into the trunk but with hands still tied to the belt. Untying herself had been easy. She’d been given her chance.
Gillian lunged between two trees The branches tried to hold her back, shoving at her face and chest, but she plowed through. And found herself in a flat, sunlit clearing.
She picked up speed. She tucked her head down and darted her long legs out fast and far. The belt and rope in her right hand flew as she pumped her arms. They lashed her face and shoulder and breast, they whipped her thigh and groin. They scorched her. She wanted to throw them down. But she might need them later. She couldn’t waste time balling them up to stop their flailing. So she ran as hard as she could, bearing the pain, hoping the snapping belt and rope would stay away from her eyes.
The sound of Holden’s crashing feet went silent. “Stop or I’ll shoot!” he shouted.
Gillian sprinted across the clearing. She heard her harsh breathing, the soft crushing noise of her footfalls, the sharp smack of the belt striking her bare skin, the softer whup of the rope’s lash.
She listened for a gunshot.
She could almost feel a slug crashing into her back. Right between the shoulder blades.
He doesn’t want to kill me, she thought. That’d spoil his fun.
He’ll try to go for the legs.
The sound of the gun reached her ears, filled her head. It was a quick metallic clack.
Silencer?
She heard the sound again and realized it was the hammer dropping.
The hammer snapped down fast, again and again. Gillian didn’t try to count the quick hard dada, but they went on and on.
She glanced back.
Holden stood in a shooter’s stance at the edge of the clearing, far behind her. The front of his pale knit shirt had a dark patch of blood on one side a few inches above his waist. He brought the revolver up dose to his face and scowled at it.
That was all Gillian saw before she swung her head forward again.
Empty gun, she thought. What luck!
Then she thought, My good Christ, I’m the one who unloaded it !
It was the revolver she’d found yesterday in his desk. Had to be. She remembered the cartridges tumbling into her palm, how she had dropped them into her shirt pocket and the heavy feel of them against her breast. Then she had put the revolver back into the drawer where it belonged-where Holden must’ve grabbed it before driving her from his home.
I saved my life.
The thought astonished her.
Not only had she rendered the revolver harmless, but it had caused Holden to stop while he took aim and snapped the hammer down on all the empty chambers. Now he was far behind her.
You’re not out of it yet, she warned herself. Don’t let it go to your head. You’ve had a couple of reprieves, that’s all. You’re in the middle of nowhere and he’s not going to give up............
She came to the edge of the clearing, dodged a tree, and dashed into the shadows.
Hide? she wondered.
Not yet. But maybe soon. Duck behind some rocks or something.
He might see you do it. Then he’d have you.
If you’re going to do it, you’d better do it now.
Hide. If you get away with it, you can backtrack to the car. Maybe he left the keys.
Fat chance.
Maybe he did.
If the keys are gone, disable the car. Stay on the dirt road; you’ll get to a real road. Flag down a car ...
I’m naked.
Big fucking deal.
Maybe I can find something in bis car to put on.
Gillian heard him racing through the woods. A long way off. She looked back and couldn’t see him.
Do it! she thought. Hide!
Still running as fast as she could, she swung her head from side to side. The tree trunks looked too skinny to hide behind. There were no clumps of bushes in sight. The few rocks jutting out of the forest floor seemed too small.
Climb?
He’ll see me.
People don’t look up. That’d been a big point in some novel she’d read years ago. The thought had intrigued her at the time, and she’d never forgotten it. Peopl
e look down and around, but they rarely look up.
Get above Holden, maybe he’ll run right by.
Off to the right, not far ahead, stood a pine that was much bigger than most of the others. Its lower branches drooped to within a yard of the ground. Its upper trunk was completely hidden by the surrounding green of its bushy limbs.
Gillian raced toward it. As she ran, she shoved the belt between her teeth. She balled up the rope and pitched it to her right. It uncoiled in midair, sailed down, and dropped over a sapling about twenty feet away. She wished it had gone farther, but that was good enough. It might throw Holden off her trail.
If he sees it.
She dashed the rest of the way to the tree, dropped to her knees and scurried beneath the umbrella of its foliage. She crawled to the trunk. She stood up. The lowest branch was as high as her shoulders. She wrapped herself around the trunk and began to shin up it. The belt was in her way. A few times, it got caught between her chest and the trunk, and tugged at her jaw. But she kept her grip on the belt, freed it when it snagged, and kept on climbing.
She heard the distant crunch of Holden’s footfalls.
They were coming closer and closer.
She got a knee onto the lowest branch. Reaching up, she clutched a limb. She carefully straightened herself. She raised her left leg, squirmed against the trunk, found a foothold on the other side of the trunk, and thrust herself higher.
Holden sounded very close now. His shoes were thudding on the forest floor. She heard him gasping for breath.
Peering around the trunk, she saw patches of light through the tree’s curtain of foliage. But she couldn’t see Holden.
If I can’t see him, be can’t see me.
She wanted to climb higher.
The branches above her feet looked thick, but not as thick as those she had stepped onto before. If she put her weight on one and it bent even a little bit, a whole section of green on the outside of the tree might shake and give her away.
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