Page 34 of Retribution

“You bitch!”

He fumbled for the gun—her gun!—and she dived for the kitchen door to the basement, half-tumbling down the stairs. If her daughter were here . . . but no . . . the coal/wood chute door was unlatched! The only light came through the small window, the glare of snow, but as her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she stumbled over boxes and chunks of wood. She heard him on the stairs, saw the beam of a flashlight.

“I know you’re down here, Lucy. Come on out.”

Shit!

The wind was whistling and she heard it in the chute. Renee had gotten out! That was what mattered.

But how long would her daughter survive in a blizzard?

And if Clark survived, wouldn’t he track her down, hunt her, and then . . . Lucy almost cried out at the thought. She couldn’t let that happen. Wouldn’t. The phrase over my dead body ran through her mind and she decided, if that’s what it took, so be it.

“God, it’s cold down here.” He sounded out of breath. Maybe she’d wounded him more than she knew.

She backed up, her calves hitting the edge of the chopping block.

With the ax.

Clark was slowly arcing the beam of his flashlight over the interior.

Give me strength.

“You cut me, bitch.” He sounded almost amused.

Quietly, she bent down, picked up the bits of wood around the chopping block, and flung the biggest piece toward the chute. Clack!

It hit.

Now would he buy it?

“What the fuck?”

He swung the light toward the chute.

“Gotcha,” he said under his breath.

Her nerves so taut she could barely move, she grabbed hold of the ax handle and tested it, pulling it from the stump. As he limped over to the end of the chute, she raised it over her head. He bent down, pointing his gun and flashlight into the opening, ready to kill her or her daughter.

Lucy didn’t think twice.

She swung down.

Threw all of her weight behind the blow.

With a sickening thud, the blade buried deep into Clark’s back.

“Oooogh!” He crumpled, his head still in the chute, his body unmoving.

Shaking, she stepped backward, nearly falling over a chunk of split wood. His body slowly slithered backward to the floor.

“Oh God. Oh God . . .” She blinked, staring at the unmoving body. His flashlight had rolled on the ground and ended up shining a light on his surprised face. Her stomach roiled and convulsed and she wretched.

Renee! You have to find Renee!

She started for the stairs just as she heard the sound of frantic footsteps overhead.

“Lucy!” Ian’s worried voice reverberated through the cabin.

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