I desperately tried to stop the tree branches from scraping my face as I backed away from the cat, shouting for it to leave. I had no idea if I was still on the path.
Wild animals were equipped to survive the elements in a way human beings were not.
And I still had nothing to defend myself.
My cheek stung as a branch struck me, and I pivoted. I could no longer see the beast. I had to get out of the forest, but with each step the thicket grew denser as I clawed my way through the thick brush.
I lost my glasses in the struggle and didn’t stop to search for them. My vision was blurred, and along with the fog, I couldn’t trust my sight.
There was a hissing noise behind me, and I knew the mountain lion was close.
Despite trying to remain calm, a cry of fear escaped my lips.
With a surge of determination, I lurched forward. I sprinted only a few feet before a decaying piece of plywood collapsed beneath me.
I was falling . . .
Falling . . .
Falling . . .
Heart in my throat, I hit the ground with a heavy thud and landed on my side.
I glanced above me at the dim light now shining through the hole I’d just tumbled through, and then everything went black.
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
The Mine Shaft
My throbbing head pulled me from unconsciousness. I opened my eyes. My vision swam, and I hastily shut my eyes to stop the nausea swirling in my belly.
I forced myself to take steady breaths. When I felt like my headache had abated just a bit, I gingerly opened my eyes again. Everything was blurry, but that had more to do with my loss of glasses than the bump on the head. I waited a moment to see if the dark shadows at the edges of my vision returned, but thankfully they abated.
Peering up, I saw the weak light attempting to penetrate the cavern I’d fallen into. I wasn’t too far down—maybe eight feet—but it was deep enough that I couldn’t climb out. The walls were smooth rock and there were no handholds. As I looked around, I saw a boarded-up section of chiseled wall and an old wooden crate on the ground.
I’m trapped in an old mine shaft.
On the upside, I was safe from the mountain lion.
On the downside, no one knew where I was.
I reached for my phone, only to find an empty pocket.
Fuck.
My fingers were cold, and I hastily put them beneath my armpits in an attempt to warm them.
They began to tingle, and I tried not to think about the direness of my situation.
My tailbone throbbed, and I placed a hand against the wall and slowly stood. I walked in a small circle to get feeling back in my limbs. My head hurt and I tentatively touched the scratch on my cheek, courtesy of the tree branch. My fingertip came away tinged with blood. A dull ache pulsed through my side—the side I’d landed on when I fell.
The baby.
Panic hit hard as I once again peered up at the hole. There was no way to tell the time. No way to know how long I’d been unconscious. The mist covered everything in a watery film and strangled the daylight.
I took a deep breath and gave myself a pep talk. My phone had been blowing up all yesterday afternoon and last night from Salem and Hadley. No doubt they’d see Brooks at Elk Ridge and ask why I wasn’t answering their messages. When they realized Brooks and I were on the outs, they’d come to the apartment and demand I open the door. They were pushy and invasive, and they were exactly the kind of friends who didn’t respect boundaries. When they saw that my car wasn’t on Silver Street, they’d be confused and then they’d get worried.
All I had to do was wait. Wait for my friends to realize I wasn’t anywhere to be found, and that they’d need to start looking for me.
