"Please wait a minute," the trooper said. He switched on a black flashlight and aimed it inside the Volvo's front seat, where the beam danced a jitterbug over the front seat.
"Will this be long? This is torrential-"
BOOM! Suddenly there was an earsplitting blast. Something exploded from the cop's head. Warmth splattered across Nat's face. The trooper's hat flew off in the air. He dropped the flashlight and crumpled to the wet street.
Nat screamed. She whirled around in the pounding rain. A silhouette in a black ski mask stood on the far side of her car, out of the cruiser's headlights. He held a gun, smoke snaking from its barrel.
"Run, bitch!" said the figure.
Nat felt stunned for a split second, then bolted across the street in terror, as hard as she could in the pouring rain. She began screaming but rain drowned the sound. She tore into a dark field of snow and mud. She sprinted forward in the darkness, pinwheeling her arms to keep her balance. Slush churned up around her, soaking her boots. A dark tree loomed in front of her. She darted to avoid it. Branches tore her cheek. She couldn't see a thing in the rain. She ran with her hands in front of her. There were no buildings or lights. She didn’t even know if she was running in a straight line.
She glanced back. The Volvo sat on the road, lit up by the police cruiser. Freezing rain slaked her face and soaked her. Her lungs felt about to burst. She panted with exertion. She tried to think through her panic. What was happening? Was he coming after her? There were no houses around. Her cell was in the car. She kept running.
A loud neighing cut through the rain, a sound so piercing she felt it in her chest. Suddenly horses were galloping around her, massive shadows speeding in the dark. They snorted and blew, their hooves crunching through ice and sucking mud. Nat stood stock still, too terrified to move, screaming as they stampeded past. A heavy haunch bumped her in the shoulder, spinning her around, and she fell down in the muck. Hooves pounded around her, spraying mud. She got up as soon as she could, checking behind her.
The two parked cars were far away now, their lights like dots. The herd of horses passed, their hooves pounding ahead of her. She couldn't stop to catch her breath. She kept going, wiping mud and rain from her face. Then she saw it. A large building with a tiny light on.
"HELP!" she hollered, hurling herself forward toward the building. She ran to a three-rail fence and half flung herself, half fell over the top, landing on her butt in the freezing snow. She scrambled to her feet and ran to the building, feeling her boots strike something hard. Gravel. A driveway. She spotted a metal handle. A door. She found the handle, yanked with all her might, and the door rolled aside. She bolted out of the rain and into the dark building.
"HELP ME!" she yelled, and her own terror echoed in the darkness.
Chapter 24
Nat felt beside the door for a switch, then stopped herself. If she turned on a light, he would know where she was. Rain thundered on the metal roof, louder than outside. She spun around, wiping her face clear of rain and muck. She was in a cavernous, dark space. She smelled sawdust and rubber, then spotted white poles lying on the ground. It was an indoor riding ring.
She went around the perimeter, feeling the walls, looking for a phone. She found the outline of a doorway and hurried inside, her hands outstretched. She was in a small office. She almost fell into a desk chair while she felt around on the desk, scattering papers and a stapler. A phone would be on the right; most people were right-handed. It was, one of those big multi-line phones. She grabbed the receiver and punched in 911.
No dial tone. She tried again. Still nothing. She hit buttons until she realized what was wrong. The electricity must be out because of the storm. The phone didn't work without the power. She looked around for a cell phone. Maybe someone had left one behind. She felt around the desk. Were there keys to a car? A truck? She knocked over a mug of office supplies, grabbed a pair of scissors, and shoved them in her coat pocket. She ran out of the office, tore across the riding ring like a thoroughbred, and bolted for the door. Then she stopped, panting. Rain poured from a black sky. There were no lights anywhere. Now she knew why. No power. No moon. No nothing. She squinted, trying vainly to see anything. Back toward the road stood the dark outline of another structure, hidden behind a line of trees.
She took off, barreling through the field. Maybe it was a barn. All these horses had to live somewhere. Maybe there would be a barn manager. A cell phone. A car. Rain thundered down. She couldn't see her hand in front of her face. Where was the shooter? Why had he told her to run? Was he coming after her? She ran closer to the structure. The roof had a peak like a star. A barn, Amish-built. New hope drove her forward, half sprinting and half falling. There had to be a house, didn't there?
She ran across the field, reached the barn, and caught her breath under the overhang. She hurried through an empty horse stall, rolled aside the door, and hurried into a center aisle. She looked right, then left. Rain pounded on the roof. She darted down the aisle, looking for civilization. She opened a closed door. A line of trash cans glimmered in the faintest light. She ran out, found another door, and flung it open. It felt warm inside. The smell of old leather filled the room. Saddles sat on racks on the wall. How could one family have so many saddles? Then she realized. It was a riding school. That's why no one was here. There would be no house. She almost burst into tears.
She bolted out of the room, down the concrete center aisle, and round no more doors. She went back to the last stall because its window overlooked the dark pasture. She'd have a clear view if the killer had run after her. In the corner of the stall, a large horse lay still in a bed of hay, its gray white coat glowing softly in the dark. "Ho fella," Nat said softly, surprised that the horse didn't move.
She entered the stall. She could see the Volvo through the window, not far from here. The horse nickered, and she heard congestion in its breathing. No wonder it hadn't moved. She stroked its muzzle, and it leaned against her hand like a big dog, begging to be scratched.
"Are we gonna be okay?" Nat scratched the hard bone between its dark eyes, feeling herself begin to calm down and think more clearly. The killer wasn't coming after her or he would never have let her go. It could be a while before anybody drove along and found the trooper. Getting back to her car was her only hope. She gave the horse a final pat, then let herself out of the stall.
She plunged back into the storm, racing for the Volvo. She pounded through mud and slush, her heart pumping hard against her chest. There was no noise but rain. She ran until she couldn't run another step, up the hill to the road. The Volvo was parked, its engine still running. She could see the murdered trooper, his arms lying askew in the street. She intentionally didn't look at his head. She darted across the street to her car, flung open the door, jumped inside, and hit the locks, shaking and dripping.
She floored the gas and reached for her purse at the same time, digging for her cell phone as she tore down the road. She found the phone and pressed speed dial for 911, but in the next minute, the Volvo interior was bathed in headlights. Police sirens erupted behind her, and she almost cried for joy. She slowed to a stop, parked, and threw open her door.
"Help! Police!" Nat practically popped out of the car.
"Hands in the air! Get your hands in the air!" Two troopers jumped from the police cruiser, one from each door. Suddenly, a second cruiser careened around the corner and sprayed to a stop in front or the Volvo, sandwiching her in between. Sirens screamed. High beams blinded her. Two more troopers jumped out of the second cruiser.