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C mon!
Mark was still glaring at Keith, but Casey grabbed his hand and tugged him along with her. Her gait was
a combination of running, limping and skipping, but she covered ground as fast as she could.
You shouldn t be getting that cut wet, Mark yelled as they splashed through the small stream running
along the side of the road.
Trust me. That s the least of our worries. They cleared the stream and started up the gradual slope on
the other side. We ve gotta get into the trees where we ll be less visible, Casey yelled.
They plunged into the forest and tore through the un-derbrush, Mark in the lead, holding Casey s hand
and towing her along with him. The bloodstain on the back of his shirt grew steadily larger, but they
didn t dare stop to take a look.
Her own wound hurt like the very devil every time she put weight on her leg, but she gritted her teeth
and kept going in her irregular skipping, hopping run.
They tore through the mountain forest full tilt, the coarse rasp of their breathing a desperate sound in the
quiet woods. The only other sounds were the snap of twigs and branches underfoot and the rustle of
leaves, the screech and chatter of disturbed birds overhead.
They burst through a line of waist-high scrub oak going full speed and only at the last second realized
that on the other side of the brush was a ten-foot drop into a ravine. Ah, sh
They both let out a yelp and tried to stop, but momen-tum carried them over the edge.
Instinctively, Mark twisted in midair to take the brunt of the fall and cushion Casey s landing. He hit the
ground on his back with her on top of him and let out an Oomph!
She scrambled off of him and onto her hands and knees. Are you all right? Mark s chest heaved but
his eyes were closed and he didn t answer. She patted his cheek. Mark. Mark, talk to me. We have to
get moving.
Still panting, he opened his eyes. You& you ll have to go& on alone.
What? No. Absolutely not.
N-no choice. My& my leg is broken.
Casey looked down at his legs, and saw that one was twisted at an odd angle. Oh, God.
She looked around. Think, Casey. Think, she admon-ished herself. There had to be a way out of this
mess.
All right, here s what we re going to do. There s a slight overhang at the top of the drop-off. I m going
to pull you over there under it. He ll have to walk right up to the edge of the ravine to see you. Once I get
you hid-den I m going to run down the ravine about thirty yards or so and climb back up and work my
way around behind him. I ll take him by surprise and attack from behind.
No. It s too dangerous. He might see you. He s al-ready on his way. The time is up. Anyway, you re in
no condition to fight him.
Mark, we don t have a choice. Now, stop arguing and help me get you over there under that
overhang.
With her hands under his arms, Casey pulled with all her might. Gritting his teeth and grimacing, Mark
pushed with his good leg. By the time they had him in place, beads of sweat had popped out all over his
face, even though the temperature was beginning to drop.
Using a leafy broken branch, Casey quickly erased the drag marks from the dirt, then bent and planted a
kiss on Mark s lips. I love you, she said. Sit tight. No mat-ter what you hear. Okay?
Casey
Okay?
All right, he finally agreed through clenched teeth.
She took off down the ravine in a crouch. After rounding a curve she went about fifteen feet farther, then
climbed out of the trench, pulling herself up by grasping small bushes and saplings.
When she d gained the top, she darted behind a thick spruce tree, hunkered down and tried to calm her
breath-ing. She sat crouched, still as a wild doe, listening, only her eyes moving.
Then she heard him. Keith was an excellent hunter, she d give him that. He made almost no sound.
How-ever, her father and brothers had taught her the ways of the woods, how to listen for what did not
belong. Keith made only the faintest of rustling sounds, but they were too evenly spaced and slow, too
rhythmic to be an animal.
Moving with agonizing care, Casey parted two branches of the spruce tree just enough to open up a slit.
Through the narrow space she spotted Keith. He was no more than fifteen feet away, just beyond the
tree where she was hiding, approaching the line of brush that bor-dered the ravine.
His head was down, his gaze fixed on the ground and the trail that she and Mark had left. He held the
rifle in both hands, angled across his body.
Reaching the line of scrub oak, he reached out and parted the branches with the barrel of the rifle, and
Cas-ey s muscles bunched. She knew she d never get a bet-ter chance.
Shooting out from behind the tree like a released spring, she tore across the short distance at top speed.
Adrenaline pumped through her so hard she didn t feel the pulling pain that shot up her leg with every
step.
She had hoped to catch Keith off guard and deliver a knockout blow to the back of his neck, but he
heard her coming.
Everything seemed to happen in slow motion. As though slogging through molasses, Keith looked over
his shoulder and began to turn at the same instant that she leaped into the air to deliver a flying kick. The
look of surprise on his face would have been comical if the situation had not been so serious.
Both of her feet struck the side of his neck. The rifle went flying over the edge of the ravine, and with a
cry of pain Keith fell back into the bushes.
Casey hit the ground tucked in a ball and instantly rolled to her feet.
With a furious growl that sounded more like an ani-mal than a man, Keith fought his way out of the
brush. Covered with bloody scratches, eyes wild, he let out a war whoop and charged her. Casey lashed
out with her right leg, but Keith ducked.
She hit nothing but air and nearly lost her balance. He laughed and danced away like a prize fighter.
You re good, Casey. But you forget, I take martial arts, too.
In a flash, he launched an aggressive frontal attack, kicking and feinting and striking out with hands and
feet. On the defensive, Casey was forced to back up. She managed to avoid the blows. Just barely.
She could feel her energy fading and could no longer ignore the pain in her leg. She knew she had to
deliver one decisive blow or she and Mark were dead.
Gathering her strength, she lashed out with her right leg, but the pain had slowed her kick. Keith ducked
and grabbed her injured leg and squeezed it tight with both hands.
Casey screamed. Her back hit the ground, and she writhed and screamed over and over. Keith merely
laughed and kept squeezing.
Ca-sey!
Ah, your lover is calling you, Keith said. He let go of her leg and pulled his service revolver from his
shoul-der holster and aimed it at her heart. Say goodbye, Casey. Last chance, he said in a nasty
singsong.
Casey caught her breath and stilled. She stared at the obscene black hole at the end of the gun barrel,
her heart pounding.
Keith had his back turned partway toward the ra-vine, but from the corner of her eye she saw the top of
Mark s head and the barrel of a hunting rifle appear over the rim.
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