CHAPTER 23

 

The coldness has soaked through every layer of my clothing when I try to pry my eyes open. A dull pounding in my head competes with the nausea in my throat; it is easier to drift back into the nothing than fight to stay awake. The cycle repeats itself, but I can’t fight the cold darkness. It’s like someone has stuck my eyelashes together with superglue.

When something wet and rough tickles my nose, I finally force my eyes open. Maisie is crawling around on my chest, busy with licking a sticky substance off my face. As her tongue swipes at my forehead, a sharp pain shoots through my skull. Probing with my fingers, I hiss—there is a cut just above my eyebrow, which is bleeding heavily.

I push Maisie away when she tries to lick me again and sit up. My chest hurts from the collision with the airbag though the pain doesn’t worsen when I breathe in and out. I take it as a sign that my injury can’t be too serious. Wriggling my fingers and toes, I let out a sigh of relief—the rest of my body appears to be intact. Maisie is panting and moving around without any effort. That only leaves Hallie.

My hand reaches over to her and gently strokes her hand. Her skin is freezing cold and for a second, my heart stills. “Hallie? Are you okay?”

A small moan drifts over from her side. “I’m alright, I think.”

The air escapes my mouth with a sigh. Her speech is clear, which is good. With my shoulder, I push against the door but it doesn’t budge an inch. I glance around as much as my stiff neck allows, but I can’t make out anything in the darkness. Turning the key in the ignition, the radio clock springs to life. It is just past midnight. We have been in this car for hours and will get hypothermia if we don’t start moving soon.

My fingers run over the carpeted ceiling by the mirror until I find the switch for the interior light. I gasp when the extent of the damage registers. The tree has totally smashed the back seat. Several thick branches block my exit and the tree is at such an angle that I cannot climb out through the back. The fact that I am trapped once again makes me shudder.

“Hallie, can you get out?”

She cries softly as she pushes open the door before heaving herself out of the car with a low growl. A freezing draft blows through the van, but it has stopped raining. Light snow flakes fall instead. I push Maisie toward the opening, but she takes one whiff and decides to hide in the footwell. I curse under my breath as I crawl over the seat—not that I blame her. It’s dark and miserable out there.

My head hurts with every move and warm blood trickles down into the collar of my coat. With every passing second, the soreness in my body worsens. I clench my teeth and push on, though I’m uncertain how long I will be able to continue without collapsing. The exhaustion of the last twenty-four hours is settling in; the adrenaline rush I felt during the escape has evaporated into thin air. All I want is to lie down and close my eyes. In a fleeting moment, the memories of my mom’s hot cocoa and lullabies stifle my breath before I remind myself that I have no time to wallow in nostalgia.

When I finally make it outside, I’m greeted by a gust of wind, the force almost knocking me off my feet. My teeth chatter uncontrollably and shivers battle my body. Hallie is half leaning, half holding onto the van, balancing herself on one foot. Wetness glistens in her eyes as she regards me with a clenched jaw—I can tell she’s in a lot of pain. The van is totaled. My gaze wanders aimlessly around in the darkness. What are we going to do?

“Where’s the phone?” I ask her.

She pulls it from her pocket and hands it to me.

No signal.

“Damn it!” If there’s truly a guardian angel up there, he and I need to have a serious chat.

I use the light from the phone to find my way to the back of the van and open the door. Jed’s tool box is right in front of me. I snatch a flashlight that could be used as a weapon before grabbing a crowbar. After a good shake, the flashlight flickers to life, casting the area around the van in a bright glow.

Directing the beam at the road, I scout out the path that winds through the forest. If it wasn’t for the cold, it would be a magical winter wonderland, but with the storm, nature is as big an enemy as Jed and Napoleon.

My gaze returns to the road we just came from and I ponder whether we should try to walk back toward the cabin in hopes of getting a signal closer to the lake. We could hide under the porch if things get too bad. Even being with Jed might be better than freezing to death.

The path ahead ends in darkness—it could be miles to civilization. Yet it’s the route to the main road, and at some point, the phone should pick up a signal. I shine the light in Hallie’s face, who is paler than a ghost—she won’t make it far without breaking down. We could hide in the back of the van until the storm eases, but that could take hours. At some point, Jed will also come looking for us.

I sigh. No matter what I choose, every option looks dire. Finally, I decide to go with my gut feeling—move forward and put more of a distance between us and Jed. Squatting next to the passenger door, I lean in to scoop up the struggling puppy. Maisie kicks when I shove her back into my coat, sending throbbing stabs down my side and temporarily stealing my breath.

“We need to get out of the forest to get a signal,” I tell Hallie, handing her the crowbar. “Let’s go.”

She wraps her arm around my shoulders and I support her by her waist as we begin our journey. The cold night air bites at my exposed body parts. My fingertips lose all feeling within minutes. I don’t complain and just grit my teeth. The newly fallen snow crunches under our boots, giving us a firmer grip than before.

We make little progress and Hallie leans into me, putting more and more weight onto my shoulders. I drag her along, but my knees are getting weaker, my arm numb from her tight grip. Just as I’m about to suggest a break, my eyes fall onto the pillars of a driveway, hidden under the snow—finding shelter in an abandoned summer cabin might be the best solution. Hallie still has the crowbar and we could break open a door or smash in a window. Even if the owners are assholes and press charges, there must be some type of extenuating circumstances to breaking and entering in a time of crisis.

With a jerk of my head, I motion to the driveway. “Let’s go inside and call the cops from there. Even if the cell doesn’t work, they might have a landline.”

Relief is written across Hallie’s face; she’s close to collapsing. “Good idea. I also really have to pee.”

The log cabin is tiny and surrounded by trees with a small porch in the front. I drive the crowbar in the gap between the door and the frame right under the lock and lever it in a way I once saw on a cop show. To my surprise, the door pops open. There is neither a deadbolt nor a chain nor an alarm. This is Maine, after all, and people here still trust their neighbors.

I take Hallie straight to the bathroom before setting Maisie down in the middle of the floor. She is probably thirsty and I rummage through the cabinet to find a bowl. When I turn on the water, all that comes out is a gurgling sound. Either the water pipes froze or the power is out, which makes the water pump useless. I try the lights, but the cabin stays dark.

“There’s no power,” I say when Hallie hops out of the bathroom.

She grimaces. “I noticed when I tried to wash my hands. Get some snow from outside which we can melt. That way, we at least have some water.”

It’s a good idea, and I grab another bowl, filling them both up with snow before placing them on the kitchen counter. The cabin is surprisingly warm, a hint of orange and cinnamon still lingering in the air. When I walk over to the open fireplace to start a fire, I notice glowing ashes. Whoever owns this place must have just recently left. Maybe a family who sought some peace and quiet from the usual Christmas turmoil but decided to return home before they get stuck in the storm.

Matches are right on the mantle and several candles are scattered throughout the cabin which I light to preserve the battery of the flashlight. I get to work on the fireplace next, stacking the logs in a circle with kindling in the middle. Soon, I have a blazing fire going.

Hallie finds a seat on the couch and takes off her boot and socks to inspect her ankle. It’s swollen quite badly. I find a towel in the cabinet and wrap some snow inside as a cooling pack. When she presses the pack carefully against the sore spot, her lips twist in pain.

“Okay, let’s see if we have a signal.” My hand slides in my pocket where I stored the phone but find nothing. I check the other side, again, to no avail. The cell is gone.

“Shit. I think the phone fell out of my coat when I got Maisie out of the van.”

I scan the cabin for a phone, but the equipment is absolutely basic. Even the fridge is a bit of a dinosaur.

“What are we gonna do?” Hallie asks as she gazes into the fire. The flames dance in her eyes—she seems to have aged a decade in the last day. Her youthfulness and innocence has been replaced by so much sadness and bitterness that it makes me cringe. I know this look too well—having stared into the same eyes for the last three years in the mirror.

“I’ll go back to the van and get the phone. It isn’t far. I should be back in half an hour.”

Hallie frowns. “You can’t go out there on your own. It’s too dangerous and the storm is still raging. Maybe we should wait until the morning.”

I shake my head. “We only drove a few miles and Jed will be able to find us. We have to get out of here as soon as possible.”

“Then let me go with you.”

“No. You stay put.” I add more logs to the fire. “You can’t walk on that foot and will just slow me down. I’ll be back in no time.”

As soon as I step outside, the freezing wind penetrates my Artic explorer outfit and chills me to the bone. With my hands buried deep inside my pockets, I trudge through the snow, my chin and mouth covered by the scarf. The snow is now a few inches deep with the ice buried beneath it, which gives me good traction. My strides are steady and I walk along at a good speed. My efforts keep me warm and sweat forms on my back when my steps turn into a jog.

I can already make out the van’s shapes in the distance when a voice startles me. I take cover behind a tree. My eyes squint at the silhouette barely visible in the flickering glow of a flashlight, instinctively knowing that it’s Jed before muffled words drift my way. He is talking on his phone.

“Look, this is the last message I’m leaving you. They’re both gone and the van is totaled. I have no clue where they are. I got rid of all the DNA evidence and wiped the cabin down for prints like you asked me to, but that’s it for me. I’ll pack up my stuff and disappear tonight, probably cross over into Canada. You better pray the cops won’t catch me, or this will turn ugly. Like I told you before, I’m not going to jail alone.”

With a growl, the phone is tossed against a nearby tree before he turns away from the van and stomps down the hill until his frame is totally swallowed up by the darkness.

This is my chance. I sprint toward the van, ignoring the burning stitch that rages in my side. The mist from my breath almost obstructs my vision. Squatting down next to the passenger door, I lean inside the van, fumbling around the area where Maisie was hiding. My fingertips run over the smooth cover of the phone and I fist pump.

As I rise, I notice the signal is back—not strong, but enough to make a call. There must have been a network disruption from the storm earlier. With trembling fingers, I dial 911, waiting for the ringtone. My heart is racing in my chest while I hop from foot to foot, mumbling “Come on, come on, pick up” to myself.

“Hang up the phone, honeybun.” The cold words chill every fiber in my body and beat the freezing wind tenfold.

I slowly turn around and stare at Jed just as the operator’s voice fills my ear.

“911—what’s your emergency?”

I swallow hard, my eyes fixed on the blade of the hunting knife in his hand. It would slice through my throat like butter.

“Hello, is anyone there?” the operator asks.

Jed waves the knife around, his face contorted in a menacing frown. There’s no doubt that he will attack me as soon as I mutter the first word. With my thumb, I push the red button to end the call.

“I always knew you’re smart,” he says, grinning. “Toss the phone over to me.”

I oblige, my fists instinctively balling tightly. I purposely miss and the cell lands in the snow just in front of him. As soon as he bends down to pick it up, my foot flies forward. The tip of my boot finds its mark square on his chin, knocking him down. He shakes his head, his eyes unfocused. I kick at him again, this time in the general direction of his stomach.

Just as before, his reflexes are fast—trained to perfection from years of fighting in the boxing ring. He catches my foot midair, both his hands wrapping around my ankle and twisting hard. I scream and lose my balance before my back hits the ground. The snow softens the impact, but it is still enough to take my breath away. I’m temporarily paralyzed, pain burning in my lungs and all down my back.

Jed’s boot comes to rest in the center of my chest. “Do you know that I could just crush you like a cockroach?” He grins. “Though I wouldn’t mind having a little bit of fun just one last time.”

I gaze at him through teary eyes. “You’re a nobody, Jed. How does it feel having to force yourself on a woman since there’s no girl who can even stomach being with you otherwise?”

“Truthfully, you’re not even worth freezing my ass off out here.” A wicked smile plays on his lips. “Napoleon and I, we’ll find your friend Hallie since she can’t be far. She and that mutt are probably hiding in a cabin nearby.” He wiggles his brows. “And when we find her, I’ll make her pay for your smart mouth. I’ll tell Hallie it’s because of you when she screams for her mommy before I cut her throat.”

Anger swells inside me like a volcano and my fingernails dig into the fabric of his jeans. He applies more pressure in response. I’m totally helpless, only able to whimper as I gasp for air.

He tilts his head. “You know, honeybun, I’m not going to make this quick. I want to see the light go out in your eyes.” With a lazy flicker of his hand, he tosses the knife away.

When he takes the boot off my chest, I seize the opportunity, my legs arching to push myself on my feet. I can’t find traction, my shoes slipping in the snow. It is just like treading water. By the time I’m able to lift myself inches of the ground, he is already on top of me.

His hands wrap around my throat, his mouth right by my ear. “Rest in peace, honeybun.”

As his breath warms my neck, cold chills blast through me. He starts to squeeze. With my oxygen supply cut off, my legs start to kick at the same time my fists pound on every available part of his body. A vicious grin is frozen on his face as his grip tightens more and more around my throat.

My mouth opens and sucks in much-needed air, but I’m unable to transport any of the oxygen to my lungs. My eyes seem to bulge from their sockets. The dancing black spots in front of me multiply, the only sounds a steady flow of blood rushing in my ears that is soon overpowered by my racing heartbeat. A metallic taste floods my mouth as I continue to struggle for air.

I have read that just before you die, your whole life replays in front of your eyes. It’s a chilling thought since I sure don’t want to be a witness to my own rape before departing from this earth. Yet what bothers me the most is that I will never find out who Napoleon is.

As my strength dwindles, utter rage seethes inside me. My mind wants to live and finally take revenge, but my body is just not cooperating. I am weak, unable to fight the opponent who has tormented me for all this time. I feel myself going limp under Jed’s weight, and as the black spots dance faster and faster, I finally realize that this might be the end. That’s when my life starts rolling backward—just like you see in the movies.