Standing there, feeling awkward, Angela stumbled around in her head trying to find the instructions she had for the team for tomorrow.
“Follow me, Cap—I mean Dyllon,” she said, walking to her car. “I want everyone back here at five in the morning. We will pick up where we left off.”
“Five o’clock, it is,” he replied, still smiling.
She held his gaze for a moment before sliding into the car and slamming the door. As she turned the key in the ignition, the engine hummed to life. She turned to wave goodbye, but he was no longer paying attention to her, his body angled toward the tree line. The radio was in his hand, his thumb holding the side button as he spoke into the transmitter.
The detective frowned. She hadn’t heard anything—not the crack of static or the squeal of feedback. Looking down, her hand fell to her waist where the radio sat in its holder. She turned the knob just in time to hear Dyllon say something about securing a perimeter.
Had they found her?
Excitement curling in the pit of her stomach, and the taste of revenge on her tongue, Angela turned with her hand on the door handle and silenced a scream before it erupted. Dyllon was peering at her through her window. His face twisted in amusement. While her heart found the beat it’d missed, she opened the door, pushing him back.
“What the hell?”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” the captain said but, judging by the slight lopsided grin he held, Angela doubted he meant it. “The search team found her scent. I told them to secure the area and issued instructions for two of the men to stay put. Their partners are on the way back with the dogs to retrieve sleeping bags. I hope that will suffice for the evening.”
The detective’s heart accelerated. “I should go there.”
“Don’t be silly,” Dyllon said. “There isn’t anything you can do tonight. It’s not like in the city. We’re deep in the woods. By the time we set up the necessary equipment and the spotlights, it’ll be morning, anyway.”
Angela hesitated for a moment, one foot planted outside the car.
“I’ll make the appropriate arrangements. Don’t worry about anything.” Dyllon flashed his stunning smile.
Angela’s gaze slid between the wooded area and the car, the prospect of a good night’s sleep tempting her. “Fine,” she said, her mind made up. “First thing in the morning.”
“First thing,” Dyllon promised.
9
As soon as Angela ducked under the yellow caution tape, Dyllon waved her over, a smile lighting his face. He stood next to a patch of grass where the rocky shore ended.
“Look,” he said, pointing toward an area where a darkened, misshapen figure-eight stained the green.
Slipping on a latex glove, the detective lowered to her heels. “Is that blood?”
“Yes. My people have already taken a sample for analysis.”
Angela ran her hand over the fine grass to where the blades stuck together in the dried crimson, plucking free a blue piece of material. “She’s hurt,” she said, bringing the material to her nose. Faint traces of copper mingled with the forest scent.
“Considering the amount of blood, I would say she is badly wounded.”
“If you look at the indentation mark,” Angela said, indicating where the greenery lay crushed, “it’s thicker here. I think it’s her leg.”
“Which should slow her down considerably.”
The news worked wonders on the detective’s mood. For the first time since Ellyssa had escaped, things might actually get easier. Angela stood, her lips spreading into a chilling grin.
Ellyssa hobbled to the edge of the truss bridge. Sun-bleached planks were missing from the deck and beams hung precariously from the long rafters. Wooziness rotated in her midsection as she looked over the side of the cliff. Turbulent water leapt over the jagged rocks, reflecting the sun in dappled shards. Stomach lurching, Ellyssa leaned against the branch she’d been using as a makeshift crutch and sank to the ground, closing her lids and hoping the nausea would pass.
When the dizziness steadied, Ellyssa turned and looked down the old paved road, wondering if she’d made the right choice to move back to land. Roots and vegetation jutted between the cracks of the blackened asphalt, nature on a quest to take back what had once been hers. The terrain was rugged, but no more than the slippery rocks she’d already navigated. At least her feet were no longer numb, and the tremors that had shaken her body had settled to mild shivers.
There was no going back or second guessing herself now. Only one way—forward.
Ellyssa pulled out the water bottle and took a small sip, then poured some in her hand and wiped her face. It wasn’t as cool as the stream, but it was still refreshing.
Using the crutch, she pulled herself up and limped over to the edge where broken asphalt met wood, her leg singing a tune of pain.
Ellyssa slipped the crutch lengthwise through the flap of her bag and grabbed one of the few remaining beams crossing the triangulated latticework. She placed her left foot on the first plank of the bridge, testing it. It mumbled, but held. She pulled her right foot next to her left.
The next plank made a loud popping noise when Ellyssa tested it. Bypassing that board, she skimmed over to the next and stilled.
Nothing.
Pent-up breath whooshed from her lungs. She continued, moving slowly, skipping over the boards that groaned too loudly or dipped under the pressure of her weight.
Three-fourths of the way across, the muscles in Ellyssa’s arms and legs quivered from the exertion and careful precision of moving. Her heart slammed against her ribs, keeping time with the pounding in her head. Her chest heaved short gasps of air. Vertigo accompanied her rolling stomach.
Sweat dripping into Ellyssa’s eyes, she evaluated the remaining distance. Two, maybe three meters. Hard to tell with tunnel vision. She took another step. The rotted wood creaked and popped under her weight, as if infuriated that she might make it to the other side. Ellyssa skipped to the next and continued.
Safety mocking her a little over a meter away, dizziness spun Ellyssa’s head again. She stumbled forward, landing roughly on the board. It snapped, shooting her leg through like a piston. Time slowed as she fell; everything was detailed in lines and vivid colors.
Fire burst in Ellyssa’s lower extremities as her shin scraped along the wood and her knee smacked into the edge. The next thing she knew, her chest hit the plank in front of her, stopping her descent. Pain reverberated in her bones as she clutched desperately to the weathered plank that bowed with added stress.
Heart hammering, muscles twitching, Ellyssa pulled herself up and planted both feet as close to the girder as possible. She inhaled deeply, calming herself, as she calculated the remaining distance and hunkered down. Every part of her body screamed as she uncoiled and sprang.
Short of the intended goal, wood splintered and broke away as soon as she landed, replaying the mess she’d just escaped. Gravity reached up and claimed its prize. Arms flailing, her fingers stretched, desperate to find purchase, but they only clutched air. Splinters raked through her clothing and tender skin. She lurched forward, her chest catching onto the very last plank, forcing air from her lungs, and her fingers laid claim to the edge of the crumbling asphalt.
Her legs dangling, Ellyssa stilled, afraid to even breathe. A low moan grated across the rusted bolts holding the plank that served as her anchor. It popped and slipped. She kicked her feet, lunging forward up and over the weakening board and grabbing onto a tree root. With the last of her energy, she pulled herself onto the blacktop, and rolled over where the bridge remained ominously in her view.