Other than a sky full of stars, the night was pitch-black. Cassie sat on a rock outcropping and stared at the sky. It represented the freedom she’d hoped to have with Jolie. That would have been their chance to escape Bart’s terrifying grip on them. Now, as young women, they were old enough, wise enough, and fast enough to take the plunge, but they hadn’t quite made it, and Jolie was dead.
As she stared at the stars, Cassie prayed for guidance and a safe journey—but to where, she didn’t know. She only cared about finding another human being who wasn’t part of Bart’s ranch or his business enterprise.
She carried on but couldn’t see more than a foot ahead. Trying to make it over the mountain would be risky in the dark. There was no telling whether wild animals were out prowling or if a sudden drop-off was directly in front of her. The best she could do was find a rock wall to sit against to protect her backside. She wouldn’t have to worry about something or someone sneaking up behind her.
The temperatures had dropped with the sun, and the night was cold—in the forties, she assumed. Logic told her to curl up tightly like dogs did to keep her core temperature warm. Tomorrow, she would do her best to reach the mountain’s highest ridge and look over to the other side. She prayed to see a road or maybe a city in the distance. If more mountains lay ahead, she would likely die of starvation or exposure, but even that was better than dying at Bart’s hands.
As she curled up against the rocks at her back, she prayed for daylight, the sun’s warmth, and another chance at survival.