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She seized the flashlight and focused the light onto Jon’s face below. He was seated on the ledge and looked spent. It had taken so much out of him to get down there. She tried to call tohim, but her voice was totally gone now. She grabbed the rope and tossed it over the edge. It dangled over his head by a foot.
“Maybe we should untie the loop so it reaches him,” Naomi said.
“I’m not sure he can hold on. That concussion has taken its toll.”
Naomi leaned over and studied the situation. “But if we don’t untie the loop, he’s stuck there. And it looks like the ledge has broken away even more. I’m not sure we have time to wait for help to arrive.”
Annie followed the beam of light on the ledge. The gap seemed to have doubled in size from a few minutes ago. She nodded and pulled up the rope. Her fingers stumbled as she struggled to untie the knot. Every second counted right now. Jon’s life was literally hanging in her hands. There. She finally had it loose.
Naomi swung her light to Jon’s face. “Grab the rope, Jon. It’s down there for you now.”
He laboriously got up and reached for the rope, which ended at his chest now. Annie realized she should have looked for the closest knot. He would need one to hang on to. She frantically made a knot motion with her hand to Naomi.
“Where’s the knot, Jon?” Naomi called. “Do you need to tie one?”
Jon ran his fingers along the rope, then wrapped his hand around the rope. “Here’s a knot. I’m ready.”
She wasn’t so sure. She and Naomi got into position. “Let’s wrap it around our waists so we aren’t jerking on him,” Naomi said.
Annie nodded, and the two of them began to wind the rope around their bodies.
“It’s working!” Jon called.
Suddenly there was slack in the line. Annie heard something strike the cliff wall. He’d fallen! The rope was totally loose. Her heart in her throat, she ran to the cliff’s edge and stared down.
Jon lay spread-eagled atop a spruce tree. Was he dead? She saw no movement, and an overwhelming fear clutched her core. She couldn’t lose him. Not ever, but especially not like this.
***
She was out of the cabin. Once the door had opened, Michelle had managed to get the boot on, but it was tight. She hobbled along toward the trees as best she could in her orthopedic boot. The pain radiated up her leg with every step, but she couldn’t count on any of his promises. The man would never let her go, and she had to at least try to flee.
She’d stuck two jerky sticks into the waistband of her shorts along with a bottle of water before she hobbled from the cabin, and she adjusted them more securely. The sight of the man’s truck had given her pause, and she’d stumbled over to peek in the cab. There were no keys, so she headed for the woods to her left. Once she reached the trees, she found a stick she was able to use as a makeshift crutch. While it helped, having her leg on the ground made the blood flow into the injured tissues, and the pain continued to ramp up. She was unsure how long she could go on this way, but at least she could smell the dew on the leaves and the fresh air.
She wound her way through the massive oak trees and brushed by the spruce spreading their needles and fragrance intoher path. If she had to die out here, at least she could breathe in the outdoors she loved so much.
Her intuition had led her to move into the forest on the left side of the cabin, but she had no idea if she was walking straight into danger or heading away from it. She knew better than to call for Sarah. It was hard to know where their abductor had gone.
Since his truck was here, he was still searching out here. And he was armed.
Her senses were on high alert, and she listened for any twigs snapping or anyone moving past branches. There wasn’t much wind tonight, but she wished the fog that got heavier with every step would lift so she could see better. But maybe it was godsent. Just as the mist hid the landscape from her, it hid Sarah and her from their pursuer.
It felt like she’d been on her leg forever, though she thought it had only been half an hour or so. She had no way of knowing for sure, but she needed a break. Her leg desperately screamed to be elevated. She peered through the white fingers of mist drifting through the leaves and trees and spotted a downed tree. It would be a good spot to prop her foot, especially since it was partially hidden by a tall shrub.
Using the makeshift crutch, she managed to lower herself to the ground, then hiked her foot onto the obliging tree in front of her. The relief came almost at once, and she sighed and leaned back on her elbows. She closed her eyes and took several calming breaths to help the pain wind back down.
A twig snapped from somewhere, and she opened her eyes and tried to see. The fog had descended even heavier while she’d rested, and she couldn’t even see her foot resting on the log. The filmy tendrils obstructed everything.
Another twig snapped, and she heard heavy feet pass very close to her head. She didn’t dare breathe. It had to be her kidnapper. There was no sound from Sarah. Had he killed her or simply hadn’t found her? She prayed it was the latter.
She barely allowed air to ease from her lungs as she waited to make sure he’d gone on past. A muttered curse came from some distance away, and she closed her eyes with relief. He was on his way back to the cabin. Once he discovered she’d fled, too, he was likely to come back out. Or would he? Maybe he’d leave to get help. Or maybe he’d run. She had no idea what the maniac might do.
She crawled closer to a tree and used it to help her stand. Getting going again after a rest was harder when her leg began to scream again, but she didn’t dare lie here and wait for him to find her. Gritting her teeth, she slowly made her way through the dark and fog. It was like trying to move through cotton without any idea which direction her feet were really going.
A hiss came from her right, and she stopped, her heart in her mouth. She knew that sound all too well. An angry mountain lion was warning her off. She stood still, her pulse racing and her mouth dry. She moved her hand to the water bottle and the jerky at her waistband. She yanked the water bottle free. It would be something she could throw. She ran through all the things she’d learned about big cats: face them, look as big and ferocious as possible, wave your arms.
She grabbed an evergreen branch that had fallen and waved it around.
In this moment it seemed ridiculous and futile, but she hadn’t come this far to be taken down by the very animal she’d come to learn about. Waving the branch, she shouted, “Go away! Get back!” She banged her stick on a tree trunk.
