Magnum Force Man. Amanda Stevens

been there before. And even those blurred markings would soon disappear as new information was imprinted upon the surface.

      Had his memory been erased? Had new information been imprinted over the images of his past? Was that why everything in his mind was so muddled?

      What about the woman? Did she even exist outside his head?

      She had to exist because at that moment she seemed to be his only reason for being.

      The hum of the engine grew louder and now he could see a faint glow from the headlights, but the vehicle was still hidden by a sharp curve in the road.

      He waited.

      Some instinct told him he should step away from the shoulder, but he didn’t. Couldn’t. He was glued to that very spot by destiny, fate or perhaps by something he didn’t yet understand. All he knew was that he could not have moved if his life depended on it.

      Rain slashed across his face as the drum rolls of thunder drew nearer. Like a celestial portent, streamers of lightning exploded across the midnight blue sky, and the wind in the trees behind him began to howl. The night was wet, cold, electric. And yet something inside him had gone still and pensive, his senses on hyperalert, as if waiting for a silent command, an unheard voice assuring him that all would be well.

      “Where are you?” he whispered to the wind.

      No answer. No command. No warning. No anything. He was on his own.

      The vehicle rounded the curve, and suddenly the cold and fear vanished, overridden by a keen sense of excitement and a certainty of what he now had to do.

      As the headlights cut a swath through the blurry darkness, he walked into the middle of the road and turning, put up his hands to halt the oncoming vehicle.

       Chapter Two

      The road was a narrow tunnel carved between two black walls of spruce and cedar. Even on clear nights, the light was all but shut out by the overhanging branches, limiting visibility to the reach of the high beams. Tonight, except for the flashes of lightning that penetrated the evergreen canopy, it was like motoring through a deep canyon.

      Even so, Claudia Reynolds wasn’t particularly concerned. She’d driven under much poorer conditions and there wasn’t another soul on the road. In another twenty minutes, she’d be home, safe and sound, sipping a cup of tea in front of a toasty fire—

      The shadow that darted onto the road in front of her took her by surprise, and she reacted on pure instinct. Her foot came down hard on the brake pedal as she swallowed a scream. The car went into a mad skid as the rear careened wildly.

      For what seemed an eternity, Claudia pumped the brakes and fought the wheel as the vehicle skated uncontrollably across the wet pavement toward the row of trees at the shoulder.

      Somehow she got the vehicle straightened and stopped, and in the silent aftermath of near catastrophe, her heartbeat sounded as loud as the thunder.

      She sat for a moment, still gripping the wheel, paralyzed with dread as her racing pulse kept time with the windshield wipers. Had she hit him?

      No! She couldn’t have. There would have been an impact.

      Oh, God, maybe there had been an impact. Maybe in all the excitement, she hadn’t noticed. Or maybe she just didn’t want to believe it.

      She closed her eyes and drew a shuddering breath as she sat there listening to the tick of the cooling engine. She would have to get out and look.

      Her heart dropped to her stomach because it was the exact scenario that would have had her screaming at the ill-fated characters in the scary movies she used to devour. Now that her own life had become such a horror show, Claudia didn’t enjoy the classic slasher flicks nearly as much as she once had.

      She could almost hear herself yelling at the hapless heroine: Don’t get out of the car, you idiot! He’s only pretending to be hurt!

      For all she knew, he could be one of them. The men who hunted her so ruthlessly.

      Claudia knew only one by sight, the sadist who had brutally tortured and murdered her mentor in Chicago two years ago. She’d caught nothing more than a glimpse of his face a split second before the elevator doors closed, but his red hair, so incongruent with such a dark visage, and those cold, soulless eyes still haunted her sleep.

      That nameless killer and the covert organization he worked for were the reasons she’d fled her home in the middle of the night and sought refuge deep in the heart of the Black Hills of South Dakota.

      On good days, she almost managed to forget they were still out there somewhere looking for her, but then something like this would bring it back and she would be reminded all over again of their evil objective. She would be bombarded by the images of their brutality and the gruesome knowledge of how horribly Dr. Lasher had suffered before he died. How she would suffer if they ever found her.

      What if the man in the road had been sent by that deadly cabal to find her? What if his intent was to torture her for information and then kill her? After all her meticulous preparations, she’d be a fool to fall into such an obvious trap.

      Why, oh why had he run out in front of her like that? Hadn’t he seen her headlights?

       Leave him! Just drive away and don’t look back!

      But what if he was just an unlucky motorist whose car had broken down in the middle of a storm and he’d been trying to flag her down for assistance? Maybe he was hurt or sick and that was why he’d acted so erratically.

       Not your problem. What kind of lunatic would deliberately step in front of an oncoming car, especially at night in a hard, driving rain?

      The dangerous kind, Claudia’s brain kept insisting.

      All of this flashed through her head in the space of a heartbeat. Already she was reaching for her bag.

      First, she checked her cell phone even though she knew she wouldn’t get a signal. She rarely got one so far from town, which was why she’d also had a land line installed in the cabin.

      Next, she grabbed a flashlight from the glove box and removed the small Ruger she kept hidden beneath her front seat.

      As she felt the weight of the stainless-steel revolver in her hand, she registered the irony even as she expertly checked the chamber. She’d always hated guns. Even in her dangerous neighborhood back in Chicago, she’d never once contemplated arming herself because the gun culture mentality was abhorrent to her.

      But finding Dr. Lasher’s mutilated body had changed and toughened her after she’d had time to get over the shock. She’d been forced to open her eyes to the brutal reality of her situation. On the run, she’d quickly come to the realization that if she were to survive, she’d have to learn to take care of herself because she had no one else in her life who could protect her. No one.

      Her keenly hewn survival instinct should have kept her at home this night, but when she’d left the house earlier, the dark clouds hovering over the hills had still seemed a long way off. With supplies running low and a bad case of cabin fever, she’d ignored the warnings, braved the weather and driven into Rapid City where she’d seen a movie, had an early dinner and stocked up on enough groceries to last her a couple of weeks.

      As she’d driven out of town, the storm still hadn’t unduly concerned her. Her small SUV had four-wheel drive, the road to the cabin was in good shape and her night vision was excellent. Nothing at all to worry about except for a man running out into the middle of the road in front of her.

      Bracing herself, Claudia opened the door and climbed out, then went wide so that she would have a clear view of the front of the vehicle. She could see the silent form in front of the headlights. He lay right beneath her left bumper. And he wasn’t moving. At all.

      Rain pummeled her face as she eased toward him. Tightening her fingers