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Could she pull this off? she wondered, looking up, through the lacy canopy of branches, to a slice of moon. Thank God for the darkness. She swallowed hard, every muscle tight, her heart trip-hammering wildly.
Stay calm, Bianca. You can do this. Just keep your wits about you. Don’t panic. Do not freak.
They were strong and fast and determined. She was lithe and smart and scared out of her mind. She felt a surge of adrenaline as the two doors opened simultaneously. The engine was cut, lights still illuminating the forest in front of the truck, the sudden silence deafening.
The passenger said, “Get her out. I gotta take a piss!” Tophman. She knew it was that loser Tophman! Cowering in the bed, trying to get her courage pulled together, she heard boots drop to the ground, one set of footprints heading away, into the beam of the headlights, the other, from the driver’s side, coming around the truck.
Her pulse pounded in her brain.
There was just enough ambient light filtering from the headlights that she could see him, his big body hulking around the side.
Oh, God. Help me.
With a metal squeak, the tailgate fell open.
Could she do it?
Leaning forward, Kywin Bell reached inside to grab her by the legs and pull her out of the truck.
Now!
Before he clamps a hand over your ankle.
Quick as a rattler striking, she kicked. Hard as she could. Hitting him hard in the face with her good foot, jamming the heel of her boot into his nose.
“Yeeeooowww!” Screaming, he fell backward a step. “What the fuck?” he cried, grabbing his head, stumbling to one knee.
Blood gushed out of his nose and ran down his face.
She scooted closer and hauled back.
Bam! She kicked him again. Harder. Aiming directly at his nose and eyes rather than kicking blindly.
Crack!
The cartilage in his nose splintered and he fell onto his butt. Another piercing yell.
“Hey!” Tophman. “What’s going on?”
She rolled out of the bed, her feet landing only inches from the half-blind Kywin. Before he could get his brain around the fact that she was escaping, she took off, running into the darkness, fast as she could, branches slapping at her face, cobwebs clinging to her hair, pine needles scratching her skin. Down the hill, faster and faster, her bad ankle screaming, her heart pounding, her brain on fire. At least her body was responding, but how far could she go, how long before he ran her to ground, tracked her like a lion on a wounded gazelle?
Don’t think like that!
Don’t give up. Do not.
Run, run, run!
She had no idea where she was, but she kept moving down the hillside. The truck had climbed from the main road. She’d felt it heading ever upward so the road had to be downhill. Had it been a mile? More? Less? Oh, God, she had no idea.
Just keep moving!
She couldn’t run flat-out. The terrain was too steep, and it was inky dark beneath the branches of the trees. She had to be careful, keeping her balance while her bad ankle began to throb.
Ignore it. Keep running. She hit a root or rock and fell, sliding and tumbling, her fall increasing. She thought of sliding over the rim of a canyon and scrabbled in the dirt and rocks, with her fingers, trying to break her fall, desperate to right herself. Clawing, fingernails breaking, her little knife flying from her hands, she tumbled until she was stopped, her body slamming against the hard trunk of a pine tree.
“Oof!” Her entire body jangled. Dust and dirt filled her nostrils. For a second, she didn’t know up from down.
“That little bitch!” Tophman cried, but his voice was more distant now.
