Читать книгу Heart Of A Lawman - Patricia Rosemoor - Страница 11

He was still behind her!

Heedless of the dark, moonless night, of the winding, downhill road and rain-slicked pavement, of the clumsy vehicle at her command, she jammed the accelerator all the way to the floor.

As if bitten, the truck she had stolen leaped forward crazily and threatened to shoot straight off the road.

Palms sweaty, she white-knuckled the steering wheel…successfully wrestled the cumbersome old rattletrap around a hairpin curve and away from the sheer drop…darted her nervous gaze to the rearview mirror….

Nothing for a moment. Then she saw the twin beams make the turn, as well. The headlights seemed a bit more distant, but still they kept pace with her.

She held her breath, the only sounds filling her ears the rumble of the engine punctuated by worn wipers clack-clacking as they streaked across the windshield.

It came to her then that she would never be free of him. She’d tried everything in her power, and still he was there, a dark phantom, a portent of her future. What little she had left of one, for the distance between his headlights and the truck was closing.

He would never let her go. Never let her get away.

Never let her live.

And she had no one to blame but herself.

Sickness welled in her as she acknowledged the fate that she had brought down on herself. Her chest tightened and the bitter taste of acid filled her mouth. Her eyelids stung as self-anger grew.

“No!”

She slapped the steering wheel so hard her palm stung. She wouldn’t cry. Not now. Not after everything she’d endured.

But the tears flooded her eyes, and even as she swept around another downward curve, she dashed them away with a shaky hand. Only a second’s inattention—that fast!—and the truck veered over, halfway into the oncoming lane. Before she could pull it back in line, her eyes filled again, this time with bright, blinding lights. The windshield wipers swept the image into focus: another vehicle heading straight for her.

An eighteen-wheeler, horn blaring!

Jerking the wheel was her second mistake. The old truck took on a life of its own, skated sideways over the slick pavement. Fear and adrenaline flooding her, she tried to keep her head. Steer into the skid. Brake gently.

Too late.

A tire grabbed the shoulder and spat gravel, while the rear end spun around and off solid ground into nothingness. Her heart skipped a beat as the rest of the truck followed. Flew without wings. For a second, she felt suspended….

Suddenly, a roller-coaster drop whipped her head into the side window and churned her stomach into her throat. Then turned her as the upended truck careened downward.

Free fall…

Touchdown.

The crash sent an explosion along her nerves, straight to her mind. She was straining against the seat belt, her voice catching as she tried to remember a prayer.

To escape the pain, she gladly entered the darkness….