to steadily unravel the knots at her feet.
“Monday’s child is fair of face. Tuesday’s child is full of grace. Wednesday’s child is full of woe. Thursday’s child has far to go. Friday’s child is loving and giving…”
She knew she was going to be Friday’s child.
Slowly, she loosened the ropes from her feet. He was looking at the flowers now, lost in total madness, in the fervor of what was about to unfold.
Spurred on by fear, she stood, her head rushing with the movement, then turned and fled into the forest, as fast as her feet would carry her. Maybe she’d find help. A hiker. A ranger. A path back to the road. Anything.
Footsteps echoed behind her. His howl. Bushes being slashed with his knife as he chased her.
The need to survive overcame her, and she picked up her pace, slogging through the slushy ground and knee-high weeds. Wet moss made her trek slippery, and mosquitos swarmed her face, but she let the sound of the river nearby guide her. Patches of briars and poison ivy clawed at her bare legs, sharp stones jutting between the damp grass.
Her limbs felt heavy, her body weak from lack of food and water, the earth shifting sideways as a dizzy spell nearly overcame her.
Clawing at the trees to stay on her feet, she pushed on, weaving between the tall pines towering over her. The sharp brittle pinecones stabbed at her bare feet as she ran, the scent of rain and wet ground cloying.
“You can run, but you can’t hide.” The voice of the monster who’d taken her drifted through the trees. He was right behind her. Closing in.
Her feet sank into mud, and tree branches slapped her in the face, but she forged ahead and found a rough trail.
“You won’t escape.” His voice resounded through the woods again.
Bile clogged her throat as she followed the overgrown path, suddenly coming to a cliff. The sight of it robbed her breath. The ground dropped hundreds of feet into the icy river below. Jagged rocks and overflowing water awaited her, and the current was so strong she’d probably never survive.
She turned to run back the other way, but his silhouette appeared in the shadows a few feet away. The blade of his knife blade glimmered as he lunged toward her.
Glancing at the drop-off again, she gauged the distance, and her chances. Certain death if she jumped and hit the rocks. If that didn’t kill her, the paralyzing temperature of the water would.
He caught her arm, but she swung her fist up and knocked him backward, turning and throwing herself over the edge. Her scream died in the wind as she plunged into the depths of the raging water below.
One Hundred Three
He teetered on the edge of the cliff, enraged that she’d gotten away from him. “No, Cathy! No, no, no, no, no.”
As her body disappeared below the surface of the raging water, he looked for her to surface. Balling his hands into fists, he banged them against his thighs then ran along the embankment in the direction the current would carry her.
Wind spun through the trees, shaking them and tossing twigs down into the river, but as far as he could see she didn’t surface. Below there was nothing but murky water. With the steep drop off, she’d probably hit rocks when she landed. The sheer impact of the fall would have likely killed her.
Sweat soaked his shirt and hair as he continued to follow the current nonetheless. What if she wasn’t dead? What if she survived and told everyone where he’d kept her? What if she could identify him?
“Cathy!” he bellowed. “You shouldn’t have left me!”
Jumping over rocks and broken tree limbs, and pushing through the tall briars, he followed the river for miles, chasing the current and stopping every few feet to see if her head appeared or if she washed up.
But after four heart-pounding miles where he hadn’t seen her surface, he knew she had to be dead. She’d been weak already––he’d made sure of that. There was no way she could have swum underwater that far without him seeing her come up for air. Even if she survived the fall, the raging current would have swept her under. And hypothermia would get her.
Shaking with rage, he ripped vines from the ground with his bare hands, throwing a clump of them over the edge of the cliff and watching them fall into the rocky water.
She had just messed up his plans. She thought she