same time she glanced in the rearview mirror. All she saw was his head, covered in the hood of a dark-colored sweatshirt—and his eyes looking out of the cloaked darkness.
The moment she saw the glitter of the malevolence in his gaze, she knew this was what he’d really been waiting for. He wanted to see her terror when she saw him, when she realized he was right behind her, waiting to kill her.
His arms came over the seat for her. Just as his hands grasped for her, she clutched the metal bar, and swinging her right arm back through the space between the seats, drove the end into his ribs as hard as she could, catching him by surprise. He let out an Umfph!
She struck him again. Harder. She felt the steel connect solidly with his ribs, heard a sharp loud crack and a satisfying cry of pain. He recoiled, the dark shadow of his arms above her retreating. Temporarily.
She unlocked her door and threw it open, then hurled herself out into the rain again. She landed on her hands and knees. Scrambled to her feet and ran blindly down the road, the steel bar still in her hand. She wanted to keep running and never look back. But it was miles to the nearest paved road. Miles to the nearest house.
She slowed, fighting panic. Think, Karen. Think. She stopped running and spun around, raising the rod to strike, expecting to find the killer right behind her.
All she saw was rain and the stormy darkness as she stared back up the mountain. The driver’s side door was still ajar, the overhead light shining through the rain. The car appeared empty.
She heard a branch break below her down the mountain. She listened. Another crack. Someone was just below her on the road.
She turned and ran back toward the lodge, remembering something she’d seen in the chalet farther up the mountain. An old double-barreled shotgun and a half-empty box of shells.
She worked her way through the trees and the rain, watching for movement. Where was he? Still in the car? Somehow she doubted that. Just like she doubted he would just leave now. Leave her alone. He couldn’t do that, could he?
The thunder drowned out any sound she made. But it also made it impossible for her to hear someone sneaking up on her.
She reached the side of the chalet and stood back against the rough rock, trying to catch her breath. Through the rain she thought she saw something move near the ski lodge. She stared until her eyes ached but saw nothing.
Hurriedly, she slipped around the building and into the dark chalet. She didn’t dare turn on a light and give herself away.
She felt around, her fingers falling on the cold steel of the shotgun. She clutched it to her breast and felt for the shells.
Six left. She stuffed four in her pocket. Breaking the shotgun open over her thigh, she pushed the remaining two shells into the old double-barrel and snapped it shut.
She took a breath, held it as she listened for any sounds beside the drumming of the rain on the chalet roof. She debated waiting here for him, letting him come to her. There were places she could hide in the chalet. But for how long?
Suddenly the sound of the generator filled the air. A light came on high in the rafters of the chalet, spilling down on her. Exposing her. Making her an easy target.
He was right here with her.
She spun around, raising the shotgun, afraid she wouldn’t be able to get a shot off in time before he was on her.
Nothing moved. Nothing, because, she remembered belatedly, when an outside light was turned on at the lodge on the mountain below her, this one came on in the chalet.
She lowered the shotgun and hunkered against the wall for a moment, trying to chase down her heart. She knew she’d have to either do something about the light or take her chances outside in the dark.
She had no idea where the light switch might be nor did she have time to look for it. Hurriedly, she looked around for something small and heavy, and spied a can with an assortment of large rusted bolts. Setting down the shotgun reluctantly, she hefted one of the larger bolts and taking aim, threw it at the naked lightbulb in the rafters.
The bolt missed, showering her with dust and dirt. She picked up another bolt, this one larger. Calmly. A