Scared to Death. Debby Giusti

too little sleep over the last few days working on her research project had taken its toll.

      Now she had two weeks to kill.

      She’d meet Tina, get the cross and find a B and B on the way back to Atlanta. A good dinner and a soak in a hot tub sounded like a fit ending to a long day. About twelve hours of sleep were just what she needed.

      Kate reached into her handbag and grabbed a bottle of antacid tablets. She could imagine her boss’s voice. “You’ll kill yourself before your thirtieth birthday.” Jason Bannister often teased her about her marathon work habits. Probably the most savvy scientist Kate had ever worked for, Jason had hired her six months ago for research and development, confident she would succeed.

      The partnership study with Southern Technology would have put Bannister Scientific on the map in diabetes research and ensured the two companies merged into the largest laboratory in the southeast.

      Except the clinical trials hadn’t supported Southern Technology’s data. The newspaper article only compounded the problem.

      Kate shouldn’t have talked to the reporter. She’d had a lapse in judgment, which was something she didn’t accept in others, and certainly not in herself.

      She shook her head. She and Tina were exact opposites in that regard.

      Tina saw the good, ignored the bad. Maybe that was why it hurt so much when her once-upon-a-time friend had cut Kate out of her life.

      Kate glanced at her reflection in the rearview mirror. Even Tina’s raven-black hair and voluptuous Latina body contrasted sharply with Kate’s rather average looks. In Kate’s opinion, her only attributes—and that might be stretching the point—were her fierce determination and blue eyes. Right now those eyes were bloodshot-red.

      A roll of thunder forced her attention back to the road as twilight faded into night. Kate switched on the Mustang’s headlights and took a left at the four-way stop. So far, she’d had no problem following Tina’s directions, but the descending darkness and plummeting temperature threatened to make the last segment of the journey more challenging.

      What had brought Tina to this isolated spot? A job? Nothing indicated the area was inhabited other than a few mailboxes by the side of the road and driveways that twisted into oblivion behind the tall pine trees.

      Lightning flashed across the sky. Seconds later, a crash of thunder sounded as if it hit the edge of the road. All around her the pine trees danced, their groans mixing with the whistling wind.

      A fine mist turned to drizzle. Kate clicked on the wipers and checked to make sure her window was closed tight, then shoved the heater knob to high.

      A road sign warned of a sharp curve. Kate downshifted and felt the powerful engine slip into Second. From what Tina had said, a bridge crossed Mercy Creek just ahead.

      The rain strengthened. Fat drops splashed against the windshield. A blast of wind hit full force. Kate gripped the wheel to keep the car from crossing the yellow line. As the wind surge died, she flipped the wipers to high and scanned the road for the bridge. The turnoff to Tina’s should be on the far side of the creek.

      From out of nowhere, a deer charged into the beam of her headlights. Kate pushed in the clutch and stomped on the brake while her hand shoved the gear into First. The tires squealed in protest as the car skidded across the road.

      The animal hit the front bumper with a loud thump, soared in the air and crashed against her windshield.

      The massive carcass blocked Kate’s view. Instinctively, she turned against the skid. The deer shifted to the passenger’s side, smearing a bloody trail along the windshield.

      Her heart slammed against her chest.

      The Mustang was headed for the creek.

      The car broke through the guardrail. A jagged edge of steel grated against the door, ripping a gash in the passenger side. For half a second, the auto teetered on the edge of the bridge, then plunged into the raging current below.

      Kate screamed. Ice-cold water rushed in like a tsunami, flooding everything in its path.

      She floated somewhere outside the realm of consciousness until a searing pain in her leg and bone-chilling cold snapped her back to reality. Where was she?

      Try to think. The car, a deer, the bridge…

      Oh, dear God.

      Water swirled around her knees. She couldn’t feel her left leg, couldn’t move it. The right one throbbed with pain.

      Get out. Kate unbuckled her seat belt and pushed on the driver’s door. Locked. She reached for the button to release the latch, grabbed the handle and shoved. Nothing budged.

      She tried the automatic window. A grinding noise filled the car, and the glass lowered ever so slightly.

      “Help me,” she shouted through the crack. The wind caught her words and erased them from the night.

      She wanted to cry, but she was too terrified, and there was no time. She had to free herself.

      Dipping her hand into the swirling eddy, she grabbed her cell phone from the console and shook out the water. Kate pushed the power button. No light. No start-up jingle.

      The rain pounded against the car with an unrelenting fury. The water continued to rise. Waist high. Cold. Dark. Her teeth chattered as she gasped for air. Don’t panic.

      She smashed the cell phone against the window, hoping to break the glass. Crash-resistant silicon proved stronger than cellular technology. Enraged, Kate threw the phone against the far window and heard the plunk as it dropped into the pool of water filling the car.

      The horn.

      She hit the center of the wheel. A momentary blare erupted, then sputtered out like a dying engine.

      This couldn’t be happening.

      “Oh, please.” She pushed on the door with all her strength, but it wouldn’t move.

      A sound cut through the storm.

      She strained to hear. The wind howled and thunder rumbled.

      Nothing.

      Maybe a hallucination from hypothermia.

      Numb. That was how she felt. Not cold. Not hot. It wouldn’t be long. As much as she needed to hold on to hope, death seemed inevitable.

      But giving up had never been her style.

      What had she read? People didn’t respond to calls for help.

      “Fire,” she screamed through the opening in the window as she continued to push against the door. “Help me. Fire. Help me. Fire.” She repeated the sequence until her voice cracked and finally gave out just like the horn.

      Tears streamed down her face and mixed with the water now at chest level. Soon her mouth would be covered, then her nose. How long before death would take her? Two minutes? Three?

      God, help me.

      A speck of light flickered through the darkness.

      “Here I am,” Kate cried out, her voice weak even to her own ears. She hit the horn. Nothing.

      The light zigzagged through the tall pines. Too far away to see her. She had to make some sound.

      Her right leg broke free from the tangled metal of the brake pedal. She raised her foot and strained to reach the shoe that slipped through her outstretched fingers. She lunged. A driving pain sliced through her left leg. Kate shoved her hand deeper into the water and caught the heel of her pump. Raising the shoe to the windshield, she pounded against the glass.

      A dull thud filled the night. Would anyone hear her signal for help?

      The light disappeared.

      Water lapped around her neck, but she wouldn’t give up. Over and over again, she slammed the shoe against the window.

      Slowly,