Page 7

At the time, I had accused him of frightening me. Now every warning sounded like a final instruction.

A faint glow appeared through the trees. I stopped. It could have been headlights.

Or a house.

A trap.

My body screamed at me to move towards it. Warmth. Shelter. A telephone.

I crouched behind a tree and watched.

The light did not move. It shone weakly through the rain, soft and yellow rather than white.

A bell rang. One deep sound rolled through the forest. Then another. A church.

I almost laughed. The sound came out as a broken sob. I moved towards it.

The ground rose beneath my feet. Trees thinned, giving way to a narrow dirt path. Beyond it stood a stone wall and, behind that, the dark shape of a small church.

One window glowed beside the entrance.

I stumbled towards the gate.

An engine growled somewhere beyond the trees.

My blood froze.

Headlights cut across the road behind me.

They had found the church.

I ran.

My knee gave way, but I caught the stone wall with both hands and dragged myself forward. Gravel fragmented beneath my shoes. The headlights swung closer, washing through the trees.

I reached the church steps.

My wet boot slipped on the first stone. I fell, striking my chin hard enough to make my teeth snap together.

I crawled.

The church door stood only a few feet away. It was made from dark wood and had an iron handle. I hoped it wasn’t locked. The thought was worse than death.

I forced myself upright and climbed.

I threw myself against the door, which opened without much help.

Warm air struck my face.

I fell across the threshold and heard the click of the door as it shut behind me.

I backed away, staring at it, unable to breathe.

Blood ran from my wrists and dripped onto the stone floor.

The church was nearly dark. Candles burned near the altar. Their flames bent in the draft from the door.

A tall figure dressed in black rose from one of the pews. For one hideous second, I thought they had been waiting inside too.