Page 72 of Avenging Angel

Owen and Scott have returned, announcing that they have taken positions to the east and south of the campground. I have the west covered, but the north side is left exposed. Suddenly, a sense of dread washes over me; my body feels heavy under the weight of it.

“Vinny, we need eyes in the sky. I’m circling north. Roger, monitor the cameras we set at the entrance. Faith, wake up Jeremy and Jack and get them on those trails.”

“On it,” Vinny says. “Where do you want the drone?”

“The Union Creek Trailhead. Find Daisy and don’t lose sight of her.”

Daisy speaks up, but she’s not talking to me or anyone else on her team. “Genevieve, what are you doing out here by yourself? Where did Harmony and Misha go?”

“They ditched me just like I knew they would, leaving me to do all the work while they find a hiding spot to smoke a bowl.”

“I can be your partner. I love scavenger hunts. Besides, it’s really not safe out here all by yourself,” Daisy tells her.

Genevieve reluctantly agrees. “Can you help me find an Oregon grape? The picture in our booklet shows a bright yellow cluster of flowers, but I don’t see any.”

Daisy, more knowledgeable about the local flora and fauna than I would have expected, tells her, “That’s because this time of year they look like long blueberries. They grow closer to the water and make a great snack on a hike. There’s a clearing up ahead where we might find some.”

As the two are walking, Genevieve asks, “How do you know so much about plants and wild animals?”

I can hear the smile in Daisy’s voice as she tells of a childhood memory. “My parents took my brother and me camping often. And when we would go for hikes, we weren’t allowed to bring snacks. Only water. We had to forage for our food. I learned what plants produce edible berries and what plants make a delicious tea. I even learned how to build a shelter with tree branches in a way that insulates from cold temperatures.”

“Sounds thrilling.”

As I make my way across the highway, I try not to laugh at the sarcastic tone of a 14-year-old girl. Daisy takes it in stride.

“Those skills can mean the difference between life and death if you ever find yourself alone in the wilderness,” Daisy retorts. This time, there’s no smile in her voice. Only the bitter truth.

Appearing out of nowhere, a man responds. “Skills that I underestimated. I won’t make that mistake twice.”

The next thing I hear is Daisy yelling, “GENEVIEVE, RUN!” followed by the thud of a body falling to the ground and the sound of an air horn.

Genevieve screams, but it’s cut short and followed by another thud.

“Daisy!” I scream as I take off running. I can only assume Owen and the rest of the team are doing the same thing.

“Knight down! Knight down!” Jaxon yells.

My heart drops in my chest when I reach Union Creek and see Daisy lying on the ground and Genevieve nowhere to be found. The creek is only about ten feet wide, but it’s deep enough that I’ll have to wade through it if I want to get to her.

Chapter twenty-nine

Daisy

When I open my eyes, I’m back to being 14 years old and seeing nothing but pitch black; the ground beneath me is cold, hard, and damp. My hands, feet, and mouth are bound with duct tape, and the scream I emit is nothing more than muffled vibrations that bounce off the cave walls.

Fear coils around me like a python that slowly squeezes its prey until the breath is gone from its lungs, leaving only a lifeless body to be devoured whole.

Tears stream down my cheeks as I realize that I’m in Hell, only instead of flames licking my body and causing immeasurable and eternal pain, it’s despair.

Then there’s a dim glow that gets brighter as a man moves through a tunnel toward me, and hope fills my chest. He’s holding up a lantern, and when he crouches down next to me, his face is obscured by a mask. The light doesn’t pierce his black, soulless eyes, and the hope I had only a second ago is gone as quickly as it came.

“Ah, you’re awake. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Sadie.”

He rips the duct tape from my mouth, and the scream I let loose is not only from the pain of having a layer of skin ripped from my face but is also a plea for help.

“Go ahead, let it all out. There’s no one around to hear you.”

The man puts in earplugs as he waits patiently for me to believe the truth of his words. By the time I’m done, my throat is raw and my voice is all but gone.