Cody's Come Home. Mary Sullivan

Extract

       Copyright

       CHAPTER ONE

      THE GUNSHOT EXPLODED against a tree so close to Aiyana Pearce that a woodchip seared her cheek.

      She veered away, farther into the forest. She had no choice. Using bullets and her own fear against her, he’d bullied, hectored and directed her away from her normal route through the park.

      Anger gripped her. She didn’t even know who her pursuer was.

      Why was he doing this?

      She’d just been minding her own business taking landscape photos...

      Her biceps burned where the first bullet had cut through her jacket, sweater and long-sleeved top to bite into her like a swarm of wasps.

      Heart hammering, legs burning, she ran for all she was worth. Only one thought slammed through her. Get away!

      She stumbled on a root, grasped a tree trunk to steady herself and kept running.

      Behind her, footsteps crashed through the undergrowth, but slower than hers. Or was that her imagination? She tried to listen, but couldn’t hear over her hammering heart.

      Was he still chasing her?

      Her pulse pounded. Her feet flew over rough terrain. She plowed through branches, flinging sticks and leaves every which way.

      Behind her, nothing sounded.

      Dear God, had she managed to outrun him?

      For five more minutes she ran without hearing the hunter.

      She gulped air, trying to swallow it whole, but still couldn’t get enough.

      Stopping, she bent over to rub the stitch in her side, ears pricked for the slightest sound in the stillness of the woods.

      Too wildly, she checked her surroundings. She should be methodical, but how could she stay calm when someone hunted her down like an animal?

      If she could reach the upper trail, she might make it to safety. From there, she could phone for help.

      She hadn’t caught her breath yet, but couldn’t stay here like a sitting duck, her bright pink jacket like a flag waving, shouting, Here I am! If she ditched it, she’d freeze. Even in the last week of October, the sun was already dropping beyond the horizon at only four-thirty in the afternoon. Drying sweat raised goose bumps.

      She lurched forward.

      A bird burst out of the undergrowth, flying so close its wings fanned her face.

      She pressed a shaky hand to her stomach.

      It’s only a bird, Aiyana. Calm down.

      But she couldn’t. Not while he might still be out there.

      Why?

      Long shadows crept across the forest floor.

      She’d never been in this section of the park before. Where exactly was she and how could she get to the parking lot from here? To safety? There wasn’t even the barest hint of other hikers.

      Wait! There was something, someone nearby. Wasn’t there? Or was she imagining things? She didn’t know.

      Another bird took flight.

      Move!

      A moment later, she detected in the distance what the bird had heard first...footsteps breaking twigs underfoot.

      He was coming!

      She hadn’t outrun him. She bit back a sob. Weakness would do her no good.

      She ran straight uphill, slipping and sliding, grasping branches until she hauled herself up and over the lip of the upper trail.

      At the top, she stopped again to catch her breath, sucking oxygen into her deprived lungs. She pulled her phone from her pocket and tried to dial, but her hands shook.

      She dropped her phone.

      “No!”

      Shhh. Quiet.

      This time, she heard him without animal warnings. Apparently he didn’t care how much noise he made. The hunt had become overt and he was way too close.

      She picked up her phone and began running again, heedless of how narrow the path was. Falling over the side or getting shot? No-brainer. The next bullet might find its mark.

      She had to live. Annie waited for her, depending on mommy to come home.

      Come hell or high water, she would make it home to her daughter—

      One moment she stood solidly on terra firma, and the next the ground disappeared beneath her feet, an entire section of trail crumbling down the side of the mountain. She jumped to safety, but the edge of the overhang gave way and she fell.

      A sharp-edged rock sent pain bursting through her shoulder. She bounced against the disappearing edge of the hiking trail, then tumbled down a long, steep incline, her head, her hip, her shoulder hitting hard-packed earth and undergrowth. Flailing, she grasped for something to stop the slide.

      Her fingers plowed furrows into mulch and leaf mold. Branches hit her legs. She closed her eyes, covering them with her forearms. She screamed. Dirt flew into her mouth.

      The fall went on forever. When she landed, she hit so hard she bit the inside of her cheek and tasted blood. Her knapsack bounced over her head, pulling her hair and pinning her down.

      Fire burned in her chest and spread outward, raging.

      Compressed lungs begged for air. She couldn’t... She tried... Air. She needed air.

      Stars flickered behind her eyelids. Just when she thought she would pass out, her body took over, finally sucking in a breath. Oh, sweet heavens, it hurt. A hot blade had been driven into her chest.

      Small branches, dirt and pebbles rained down on her. She tried to cover her head, but only one armed worked. When the debris stopped falling, only her pounding pulse echoed in the sudden silence.

      Like an unforgiving enemy, pain visited every cell in her body. Her shoulder ached. Her ankle throbbed.

      She lay still, playing possum, in case he was up top watching her. She listened for footsteps, too hurt to defend herself if he came down. Her heart pounded against the constricted wall of her chest like a boxer battering a speed bag.

      For what felt like a good ten minutes, she lay still.

      He was gone. He must be by now.

      She peeked up the hill, but the trees and vegetation were too thick to see if anyone stood on the ridge.

      The ravine was deeper here than farther along. Getting out would be hard. She refused to cry.

      She struggled to shrug out of her backpack, but a searing ache shot through her shoulder. It felt as if it had been ripped from its socket.

      “Damn!” she shouted.

      So dumb, Aiyana. Be quiet! What if he’s biding his time waiting for you to betray your position? She clamped down on the impulse to moan.

      Squirming, sweating, swearing when it hurt, she managed to get the pack off her back and toss it aside so she could sit up. The minute she did, her ankle screamed bloody murder, and she flopped back down.

      Pain, so sharp her eyes watered, shot up her leg.

      She rose onto one elbow, gingerly, while her shoulder sent out a banshee wail of protest. She peered along the length of her body. No broken bones, but she’d hit the ground hard enough to jam her foot under and between two boulders. What were the chances? Close to nil, but somehow Aiyana had managed it.

      Story