Читать книгу The Kidnapping of Kenzie Thorn - Liz Johnson - Страница 12

Just follow the gravel road. Follow the road. There has to be another cabin. You’ll find someone to help you.

God, please let there be someone else out here. Please send help. Send Mac.

She repeated the words over and over in her mind, never forgetting that finding help equaled freedom. Safety. Mac.

Kenzie’s hands still shook violently. She’d never been in a fight before, but this was no time to back down. She had kicked Myles in the knee as hard as she could and run for all she was worth. And she was still going at full speed.

She ran between the trees lining the cleared road, but the top branches all but blocked the moonlight. She could barely see to put one foot in front of the other and couldn’t see the drooping limbs that scratched at her face and arms, snagging her sweater and ripping at her cheeks and forehead. But she was afraid to run on the road. She would be far too visible to Myles if he pursued her in a car.

She ran as fast as she could manage in the uncomfortable dress shoes she’d worn to match her black skirt. A rush of thankfulness swept through her as she realized that she could be fighting the high heels she had considered wearing, even if they broke a prison rule. She had wanted to be taller than usual, to appear more intimidating with Myles in her classroom. But the uneven ground plus the heels would have equaled disaster.

Still, the impractical shoes pinched her toes with each step. The slick soles slipped along the moist earth, rolling over twigs and leaves as she raced toward freedom. Sliding over a piece of moss, she lost her balance and fell to her hands and knees.

Mud caked on her hands and skirt, and she pushed herself up. She took another deep breath and ignored the stitch in her side. The woods were silent, other than the leaves and twigs crunching under her footsteps. No sounds of Myles’s pursuit. But he wouldn’t just let her get away. He wanted something from her, she was certain. But what? What could she possibly give him?

Her skin crawled to think.

She could not think about those things. Not right now. She had to run.

After what felt like hours, her lungs burned too badly to continue, and she lunged for a nearby tree, seeking the protection of its wide trunk. Knees weak, she sagged against the rough bark.

“Oh, God, what is going on here?” she whispered.

None of it made sense, especially not Myles’s grandmother, who seemed completely oblivious to her cries for help.

And then the sobs came, completely of their own volition, and she was powerless to stop them. Weak and ashamed of her weakness, she let herself cry, all the while keeping a listening ear for the sounds of footsteps behind her.

Her own arms wrapped tightly around her middle against the icy, early morning air, and with her head leaning back against the tree trunk, she could almost fall asleep from the sheer physical and mental exhaustion of the last several hours.

Almost.

Suddenly feather-light footfalls to Kenzie’s left caught her attention. Holding her breath, she waited to see what approached. Expecting a wild bear, or worse—Myles Parsons—she laughed out loud as a deer darted in front of her, stopped and sniffed the air. The creature took a second whiff and bounded off.

Relieved it was only a harmless doe, Kenzie began picking her way through the brush once again. Follow the road. Just follow the road and find another cabin. She could hardly wait for the sun to make its first appearance over the horizon and provide a touch of warmth to the frigid air.

Suddenly a memory halted her in her tracks. In the car Myles had said something about deer. Was that one running from a mountain lion?

A rustling of leaves and brush produced her answer almost immediately as yellow eyes glowed eerily to her left. The answer was a resounding yes.

“Oh, God!” It was the only prayer she could offer before covering her eyes and backing up against the nearest tree.

“That girl!” Myles snarled as his knee buckled beneath his weight yet again. Had she no sense of self-preservation? They were in the mountains—the weather was liable to change at any moment. And what about the wild animals out and about? The sun was hours away from its first appearance, so all of the nightly predators still roamed the area. She’d put herself in serious danger by running off like that—and leaving him in so much pain that he almost couldn’t go after her.

But he’d promised himself he’d protect her. Because it was his job, of course. So he’d scraped himself off the floor and followed her trail.

Of course Kenzie had kicked his injured knee. She must have seen him rubbing it in the car. He had to remember that she was both smarter and spicier than he originally gave her credit for.

He grumbled under his breath at the tree branch that nicked his face as he hobbled along the trail Kenzie left. “God, I’m a little angry here,” he prayed in a tense whisper. “Could You please help me to calm down so I can find Kenzie and get her back to safety?”

The breeze chilled him as he took a deep breath. Leaves rustled as small animals scurried away from night predators. He wondered where that tiny deer they had seen on the drive to the cabin was hiding. Was it still being chased by a mountain lion? Or had the mountain lion found new prey?

As angry as he was, that question spurred him to a faster speed. He had to hurry. Kenzie had already been on the run far too long. It was dangerous out here. Once he got her to safety, he would explain as much as he could. If Nate chewed him out for it later, so be it.

When he finally heard Kenzie’s stick-snapping footsteps, he knew that he was not far behind. Picking up his pace, he whizzed by a deer. It took a split second for the animal’s meaning to fully sink into his distracted mind.

Deer. Mountain lion.

Crud!

Myles growled to himself as he picked up his pace, sneaking up to the small clearing ahead of him. In the darkness, he began to make out the purple of Kenzie’s sweater and the red curls of her hair. Her hands covered her face as she stood stock-still against the trunk of a tree.

Opposite a large female mountain lion.

The woman had no sense of self-preservation. And wasn’t it just his rotten luck that he was committed to keeping her around?

That meant he was going to have to take some sort of action.

God, protect me and this crazy woman!

Without a second thought or prayer, he jumped in front of Kenzie’s shaking form, between her and the snarling cat crouched a few feet away.

“What are you doing?” she whispered into his ear, clinging to his shoulders.

Was she serious? He was saving her tail, whether or not she realized or liked it, and she picked that moment to start up a conversation?

“Shush,” he whispered, barely audibly.

The striped cougar hunched a little lower then bared its long, yellow teeth.

“Is it going to attack?” she asked, her voice shaking with fear.

“What do you think?”

He could feel her head nodding into his right shoulder, her tiny fingers digging sharply into his shoulder blade and deltoid. Thankful for small miracles, he noted that she kept her fingernails short.

“Why are you protecting me?”

Myles sighed heavily. This was hardly the ideal moment for this conversation. But if something happened to him, she had a right to know she would still be in danger. And at least he could be certain that these woods weren’t bugged, unlike the car. “I’m an FBI agent. I was assigned to protect you inside the prison.”

“What?” Her whisper spoke volumes of disbelief.

“I’ll explain the details later.” Suddenly the cat shifted and growled deep in the back of its throat.

“If we’re silent, will it leave us alone?”

“I don’t know. We’re not being very silent, are we?” He did his best to keep his voice low, but it barely mattered. Of course the cat was going to attack. With one eye on the animal and one glancing into her face over his shoulder, he tried to offer a reassuring smile.

She clamped both hands over her mouth, her eyes huge in the strained planes of her face as she realized that she was still talking.

Myles almost laughed out loud. If he had been anywhere else in the world, he would have let out a great belly laugh at the look of panic and shock on Kenzie’s face. But this was not the time or place to ponder that expression. There would be time enough for that later, if they survived.

Yellow eyes glowed in the moonlight as the fur on the mountain lion’s back began to stand up. Completely unprepared, Myles was about to fight a mountain lion to protect Kenzie Thorn. When had he gone insane?

Suddenly he wished for the knife that Guard Whitestall had offered him back at the prison. But wishes don’t scare off mean, angry cougars.

Kenzie gasped, squeezing him even tighter, and Myles knew it was time. This was it. Either God was going to spare his life, or he was going to meet his Maker.

The cat lunged, teeth bared, claws spread wide, as it jumped toward his throat. He dodged left, simultaneously pushing Kenzie behind the tree, out of the path of the mountain lion. A searing pain shot through his right thigh as the force of the seventy-five-pound animal knocked him to the ground.

On the ground, he lost most of the momentum of a blow, but with as much force as he could muster, he punched the animal in the tender flesh of its nose. The cat whined, then immediately growled, whipping its head from side to side.