Читать книгу Taken - Lori L. Harris - Страница 6

Chapter One

Monday, 10:56 p.m.

“So. Are we lost?” Taking her eyes off the dark road, Jillian Sorensen glanced over at her sister.

They’d left Cincinnati at eight that morning amid snow flurries, but as they’d traveled south through North Carolina the temperature had climbed into the lower seventies—balmy by Ohio standards—and they’d lowered the convertible top.

Megan studied the road map a bit too intently. “Well?” Jillian prompted.

“That depends.”

Jillian tried to capture the strand of hair that had worked loose from her ponytail. Taking a deep breath, she spoke again. “Megan? What’s the map say?”

Without looking up, Megan rotated the map beneath the flashlight beam. “Say? Were you expecting it to talk?”

“I figure the chance of it speaking is roughly the same as your being able to read it.”

The beginnings of a frown formed on Megan’s face. “Keep it up…”

“Come on.” Jillian felt her already depleted patience hit rock bottom. “After thirteen hours behind the wheel, I want out of this car for more than the few minutes it takes to eat a meal or fill up the gas tank. Getting lost in a national forest isn’t on my agenda.”

“Then you’re not going to like hearing this.” Megan gave a slight shrug. A bad sign. “We’re on US 17A instead of US 17.”

“How—”

“Doesn’t matter,” Megan cut her off. “It’s no biggie. There should be a shortcut coming up here pretty quickly.” In an effort to read the small print, she held the map closer to her face. “It looks like County Road 45.”

“Looks like?” Jillian slowed. “Show me.”

Just as Megan thrust the map forward, the flashlight flickered and then died. Dropping the map and the light, Megan pointed at the road ahead instead. “There’s a sign. Highway 45. Do you see it on the left?”

Jillian made the turn, but then glanced over at her sister. “You’re absolutely sure about this?”

“Trust me.”

“You said that the last time you got us lost.”

To keep it from being blown away, Megan shoved the folded map down between her seat and the center console. “We weren’t lost.”

“That’s not what you told that military cop when we ended up in a restricted area.”

“That was different.” Megan grinned. “He was really cute. And big, tough military types like defenseless women. I got a date out of it, didn’t I?”

Jillian wordlessly adjusted her hands on the steering wheel as she tried to think of a good comeback. The guy really had been cute, though. And nice.

“Stop worrying.” Megan fumbled with the earbuds for her iPod. “This road takes us back to US 17.” She rested her head against the seat and closed her eyes. “We’ll be in Charleston by midnight. You’ll get plenty of sleep before the big job interview.”

For the briefest of moments, as Jillian glanced over at her adoptive sister, she didn’t see the graceful twenty-one-year-old woman sitting beside her now. Instead she saw the eleven-year-old child Megan had been the year Jillian had gotten her driver’s license. She recalled how Megan’s blond pigtails had bounced in a summer breeze, the way her smile had spread wide, the way her eyes had looked at Jillian with trust and certainty.

Megan had been the first person to trust Jillian, to really trust her. And after nearly seven years in foster care, Jillian had been desperate for approval—even from a child.

The Sorensens, her adopted family, had given Jillian something she’d never expected to have. A sense of safety. Of love. Of being part of something bigger than herself. For the first time in her life, she had felt lucky.

“You’re doing it again.” Opening one eye, Megan looked at Jillian.

“I’m doing what again?”

“Watching me. As if you think I’m going to fall apart again.”

Five weeks ago, less than forty-eight hours after their father’s funeral, Megan had come home drunk for what she’d sworn was the first time in her life. Three nights later Jillian had found her passed out on the bathroom floor.

With both parents now dead and no other family, it had been up to Jillian to confront her sister about the drinking.

She’d said some really harsh things that had left their relationship somewhat strained.

“I was not watching you.”

Megan turned in her seat. “Yes. You were. And I’m fairly certain that’s why you’re interviewing with Burroughs, Alderson & Bailey. Because you think I need looking after.”

“That’s not true. It’s a great opportunity.”

“Maybe for someone who is interested in practicing corporate law.” Megan gave her a sharp look.

Jillian met her gaze briefly. “And your point is?”

“For the past year, all you’ve talked about is going into a family law practice. Helping women and children.” Megan straightened in her seat again. “You’ve been playing big sister for a lot of years, Jilly. Maybe it’s time to give it a rest.”

“That’s not what I’m doing.”

“Sure it is. The only reason you’re even considering this job is because it’s in Charleston. Where I’ll be going to medical school.”

“Yeah,” Jillian agreed dryly. “That’s my only incentive for taking a position with a really prestigious firm at a starting salary nearly double what the others are offering.” She held a hand up in the air. “And it also has nothing to do with how much I hate Ohio winters.”

“I just don’t want you taking it because you’re worried about me, okay? I know that I’ve been making some dumb decisions recently, but all that’s behind me. I’m perfectly capable of being on my own. I wish you’d believe me.”

The plaintive note in Megan’s voice deflated Jillian’s frustration. “I do believe you. Maybe I’m the one who’s not ready to be alone. There, I admitted it. Happy?”

“Yeah.” Megan’s smile returned, easing the remaining tension. She pointed ahead to where their headlights flashed on a sign in the distance. Both women focused on it as they drew closer.

“Next right, Hellhole Bay.” Megan read the sign aloud. “Sounds like a real tourist destination. Should we stop?”

“Maybe on the return trip.”

The road took a quick, sharp turn, seeming to narrow. Tall trees on either side pressed up from the pavement, forming a canyon. Jillian watched the moonlight chase after them, its light flooding down like a stage spot through the occasional wide openings in the canopy. Then suddenly the hammock of oaks and pines grew too dense. Too dark.

Because of the surrounding woods, the rhythmic rumble of the engine became louder and the air turned even cooler.

Megan pulled a jacket from behind Jillian’s seat. “What do you think about putting up the top?”

Jillian shook her head, then shivered. It wasn’t just because of the sudden drop in temperature, though. “To be honest, I’d rather not stop out here.” They hadn’t passed a single car in the past fifteen minutes.

Megan, who had already shoved one arm into a sleeve, looked up from where she was struggling to locate the second one. “Are you afraid some man is lurking in the woods?” Having found the sleeve opening, she tugged the coat in place. “Just waiting for a car to come along and break down so he can use a machete on the driver and female passenger?”

Her sister’s description of a scene from the slasher movie they’d rented two nights ago left Jillian feeling slightly ridiculous. “Actually—” she fought the urge to grin “—I was only worried about the driver.”

Folding her arms across her, Megan tried to pretend she was affronted, but Jillian knew better.

“So you’re suggesting that you’d just leave me on the side of the road with some crazed killer?”

“I wouldn’t even look in the rearview mirror.”

Megan zipped the jacket. “Okay. You win. Pull over. Given the fact that I haven’t stopped shivering since we made that turn back there, I’m willing to risk death.”

“It’s your neck.” Jillian had started to shift her foot off the accelerator and toward the brake when a person—a woman—suddenly exploded from the trees and into the convertible’s path.

The woman looked up, frozen in the headlights.

Bracing her hands against the dash, Megan screamed.

As Jillian stood on the brakes, everything seemed to slow—not just inside her head, but around her, too. It was as if the woman waited at the end of a well-lit tunnel. Pale hair. Pale skin.

But it was the look in her eyes—the calm acceptance of what was about to happen—that shocked Jillian. Did she want to die?

And then, at the last moment, the woman looked over her shoulder, as if searching for some way to escape the inevitable. Jillian jerked the wheel to the right to avoid hitting the woman.

Megan screamed again, the sound catapulting Jillian back into real time as the tires lost traction. The passenger-side tires dropped off the asphalt and immediately ran over something—a log or a rock.

The impact ripped the steering wheel from her hands. By the time she grabbed it again, the car was sliding sideways and she no longer looked out through the windshield where passing tree trunks whizzed by like an unending barcode, but was staring into her sister’s panicked eyes.

And then, just as suddenly, the convertible was rocking hard from side to side as it settled on its tires facing back the way they’d just come from. Throwing Jillian and Megan around one last time.

For several seconds both women just stared at each other like zombies. Jillian was the first to move, letting go of the steering wheel. Her shoulder muscles ached. Her left elbow throbbed. She didn’t remember being thrown into the door, but knew she must have been.

“Megan?” Jillian’s hands sank into her lap. “Are you okay?”

“I’m…I’m good.” Megan’s voice shook. “Did we…hit her?”

“No.” Turning, Jillian gazed out through the windshield. The headlights barely reached the woman. Jillian gasped. She had expected to see the woman standing in the middle of the road, but she wasn’t. She was sprawled on the pavement.

Jillian tried to take a deep breath but couldn’t. She hadn’t hit the woman. She was sure of it. And yet she must have.

She needed to call 911. She needed to get out of the car. Needed to help the woman. Do whatever she could until an ambulance arrived.

Numbly, Jillian searched the center console. Finding her cell phone, she flipped it open.

“No service.” Shoving the phone into her pocket, she was shocked to find that she was alone in the car. Megan had already climbed out. By the time Jillian caught up to her sister, Megan was already searching for a pulse.

“I can’t feel anything!” Megan shifted her fingers to a new position on the woman’s neck.

The woman was somewhere in her twenties—maybe even close to Megan’s age. The blue business suit that the blond woman wore was ripped and filthy, and she was barefoot.

Whoever she was, she obviously wasn’t a hiker or camper. So what in the hell had she been doing out here at this time of night? In a remote area. All alone and—

Alone?

Jillian stared down at the woman again, her gaze locking on the woman’s wrists. The bruises circling them were dark and uniform. As was the discoloration around the ankles.

The dread and fear that had been pooling low in Jillian’s body suddenly poured through her, reaching her lungs, forcing her breathing to go quick and shallow.

Jillian suddenly recalled how the woman had looked over her shoulder at the last moment. Was it possible that she hadn’t been looking for a way to avoid being hit? That she’d been expecting to see something coming after her?

Or someone?

Jillian grabbed Megan by the upper arm. She tried to pull her sister to her feet. “Come on. We need to get out of here. Now!”

Megan jerked free, but almost fell across the woman in the process, catching herself at the last minute. She looked up at Jillian. “Are you crazy? We can’t leave her here like this!”

“I wasn’t going to.” Keeping an eye on the woods, Jillian grasped the woman’s ankles.

“What are you doing?” Megan tried to break Jillian’s hold. “You can’t—”

“Get her arms.” If she was still alive—and Jillian had her doubts—the woman’s best chance was for them to load her into the car and get the hell out of here.

Assuming the convertible was still drivable. She’d been so focused on the woman that she hadn’t given any thought to the condition of the car.

“But—”

Jillian straightened, hefting the weight of the woman’s lower body. The blue skirt slid up, exposing more dried blood and bruising. Anger flashed through Jillian’s veins. She’d seen photographs of injuries like this before, knew their cause.

“Get her damn arms, Megan!”

“Moving her might—”

“Look at those bruises… No car did that. She’s been raped.” Jillian glanced at the woods. “We need to get out of here now!”

Megan’s fingers immediately closed around the woman’s wrists, but it was still several seconds more before she actually got to her feet. They stood facing each other, the woman’s dead weight slung between them. “We’ll make it,” Jillian said. Not because she believed it, but because she wanted Megan to. “Ready?”

With each awkward shuffle forward, they were forced to refine their hold as the woman’s wrists and ankles turned slick with fresh blood. Dead bodies didn’t bleed. Was it possible that the pressure she and Megan were exerting was causing the illusion of bleeding? Or was the woman actually still alive?

“We need…we need to pick up the pace here, Meg.”

Megan nodded wordlessly. Her breathing was coming just as fast as Jillian’s now. They were still twenty yards from the car when they both heard something and looked in the direction of the vehicle.

Backlit by headlights, the silhouette of a man came toward them. Not from the woods, but from where they’d left the car.

The sound of his boot heels striking the pavement echoed in the silence. Silence? She looked toward her car. Jillian had left the engine running. It no longer was.

Blood rushed in Jillian’s ears, her heart slamming against her ribs. She heard the panicked, in-drawn breath of her sister and knew Megan shared her fear.

The man tossed Jillian’s car keys into the air, and caught them easily. Then he started whistling a tune. She couldn’t see the grin on his face, but she suspected it was there. Just as she suspected that his slow, easy swagger was born of his belief that instead of one possibly dead female, he now had two very live ones.

He was tall—six-two or -three—and appeared to be built solidly. Not the kind of man that even two women could easily overpower. He didn’t seem to be carrying a weapon. But could she really bank on that?

“Megan?”

It wasn’t until Jillian said her sister’s name a second time that Megan finally pulled her gaze away from the man. But even as Jillian lowered the woman to the ground, Megan just watched.

“We can’t do anything for her now, Meg.” Jillian inched toward her sister.

“We can’t leave her.” Megan’s voice was low. Strained.

“We have to.” Jillian forcibly peeled Megan’s fingers from around the woman’s wrist.

Leaving the woman on the pavement, Jillian backed away, taking Megan with her. She would have expected the man to pick up his pace, but he didn’t.

The pressure in her chest built. Jillian checked the road and then the trees on either side. Which way? Staying on the road wouldn’t buy them any advantage. They hadn’t passed any cars or seen any sign of civilization.

She checked the side of the road. The girl had come out of the trees to the right.

“The woods on the left,” Jillian murmured as her fingers tightened around Megan’s lower arm. “When I tell you, we’re going to make a run for them.”

Megan glanced over her shoulder, effectively giving away their escape route. Jillian couldn’t worry about that just now. The whistling grew louder, the man closer. She felt her sister inch backward. Megan’s shoulders straightened imperceptibly.

That she seemed to have pulled it together some encouraged Jillian. But would Megan be able to react fast enough when the time came? And what was Jillian going to do if her sister didn’t? How was she going to protect Megan?

Remembering the cell phone in her pocket, needing the assurance that it was still there, Jillian slipped her hand inside.

The whistling stopped. As she watched, the man reached back and grabbed a shotgun that must have been strapped to his back. He brought it down and into position in a single, fluid motion.

“Get your hands where I can see them.”

She’d already started to obey his command when the sudden blast of the sawed-off shotgun sent a dozen ricocheting pellets into Jillian’s left shin, the pain like that of matches being shoved into her flesh.

“Make one more move, and the next one will cut you both in two.”

He had reached the downed woman, but simply stepped over her as if she were some animal.

Jillian hobbled in place. Even if they made it to the woods, there was no guarantee of escape. They couldn’t outrun a shotgun.

But what other choice did they have?

“Meg?” Jillian kept her voice low. She tightened her hold on her sister’s arm until she felt her wince. “Nothing has changed. Even with the gun. Our best chance is to make a run for it. You understand?”

Megan offered a solemn nod.

The man was close enough now that Jillian could see his face. His lips curved upward as he focused on Megan, as if he found her fear amusing.

When the man’s gaze returned to her, Jillian shifted slightly in front of Megan. For some reason, with his next step, he lowered the weapon to his side.

Jillian didn’t hesitate. “Now!”

As Megan turned to run, Jillian rushed their attacker. As she closed the distance, her vision tunneled down until all she could see was the end of the shotgun barrel as it came up again.

The twin barrels appeared overlarge, like two soulless eyes summoned to witness her death. She’d had a rough start in life, and it looked as if the ending wasn’t going to be much different. But all she could think about was the years that had stretched between. The sister who even now was escaping. She had always wondered how she could repay the Sorensens for everything they had given her.

Now she knew.

A shotgun blast exploded, the sound nearly taking Jillian to her knees. It took her several seconds to realize that she hadn’t been hit. That the gun the man held hadn’t gone off.

Megan!

Comprehension dawning slowly, she lifted her chin and stared at the man in front of her.

He smiled as a third explosion chewed the night.

“No!” Jillian whirled toward the trees on the left—the trees where Megan had disappeared.

As she leaped toward them, the man drove the gunstock into the back of her skull.