Jennie couldn’t talk. Her mouth had gone dry as an old desert bone. She wiped her palms on her jeans. Her legs had turned to mush, and she could barely put one foot in front of the other.
She could see Maude through the living room window, making the trek to the outhouse. Zack stood near the couch looking as if he were going to a funeral. Her gaze caught and held Zack’s for one long moment as she silently pleaded with him to stop them.
He turned away. “I think I’ll have one last look around,” he told his uncle just before hurrying toward the house.
“Let’s go.” Jon prodded her in the side with the gun. “No sense prolonging things. Makes it harder on both of us.”
Both of us? Jennie almost laughed at the irony of his comment. In a way he was right. In the long run killing her would be a lot harder on him than dying would be for her. She’d be gone, and he’d have to live with the memory of murdering a sixteen-year-old girl for the rest of his miserable life.
They walked along a short trail to the river, then went upstream about twenty feet to where the river widened. Someone had built a dock there. Jennie wondered if Jon was going to shoot her there by the river. She hoped he’d try it. She’d dive in before he could get a shot off, then swim to the other side.
But Jon steered her away from the water and into the thick forest that lined the river.
“How far are you taking me?” Jennie asked.
“Just far enough from the cabin so nobody’s gonna find you. No need to go too far. Figure the owners probably won’t be coming out into these woods any time soon. In a few days the animals will have dragged your carcass off to who knows where.”
Jennie swallowed back the bile rising to her throat. She spent the next few minutes reminding herself that it didn’t really matter what happened to her body. She’d still be alive and hanging out in heaven with God and the angels. Lord, please. If you’re going to give me a chance to escape, it has to be now.
Run, an inner voice urged. He’ll kill you for sure if you don’t.
Jennie bolted. A gunshot ripped through the morning, exploding in her ears. A bullet sliced into a tree trunk near her head. She ducked, without breaking stride, weaving between the trees. Another shot.
The impact of bullet against bone brought her to her knees. Gritting her teeth, she struggled to get up. Keep going. Run.
Too late.
Jon slammed a fist into her side, forcing her onto her back. His furious gaze bore into hers. Searing pain ripped through her thigh. She grasped at the wound, trying to back away.
He aimed the gun at her heart. His lips curved in a demented smile. “I didn’t want to kill you, girl. Tried to talk Maude into just leaving you at the cabin. But now …”
Jennie closed her eyes as he pulled the trigger.
Click.
Her breath gushed out in a half cry, half scream.
Click.
The gun had jammed, or he’d run out of bullets.
Jon swore and threw the gun aside. His fists clenched, he started toward her.
Clutching her leg, Jennie rolled over and tried to stand.
“Oh no, you don’t.” Jon hauled her to her feet and drew back his fist.
Jennie lifted her arms to protect her face. “Please, don’t … I won’t tell anyone I—”
She never got a chance to finish. One fist hit her raised arm. He rammed the other against her exposed jaw.
A scream caught in her throat. Jennie tripped on a root and staggered backward. Her arms flailed as she tried to break her fall. The back of her skull connected with something hard and unyielding. White light exploded through her head.
In the distance she heard a woman’s voice. “Jon? What in tarnation is taking you so long? Let’s go!”
“Coming,” he yelled back. Leaves crunched under heavy footsteps. “Idiot girl,” he mumbled. “I was only going to wound you and let you go. Now you’ve gone and killed yourself.”
The footsteps faded into oblivion. A blessed darkness covered Jennie like a blanket. She felt herself being lifted up higher and higher. Looking down from her lofty perch, she could see a dark-haired girl with a bruised and swollen face lying on the ground. A tree stump pillowed her head. Blood seeped into her jeans at the thigh, turning the denim a deep burgundy. She lay at an odd angle, with fir and cedar towering around her like sentinels keeping watch.
In an instant the image was gone. Jennie felt a moment of excruciating pain at the back of her head. Then nothing.