her pace, but her legs felt as though she wore cement blocks for shoes. Through the trees she saw headlights arc across the terrain and disappear. A hundred feet. Safety. The highway was the only way into town. Her best chance to escape.
Then behind her she heard the two men and saw the beams from their flashlights circling the area in front of them. Her gaze was drawn toward their lights. She was amazed at how fast they had returned. She plowed ahead, forcing herself to go faster. Blocking from her mind the searing pain in her legs and lungs, she limped toward the sounds of passing cars. Fifty feet.
The ribbon of asphalt cut through the forest. Slicing lights illuminated the trees on the edge of the highway. She pushed herself harder. Thirty feet.
The noises behind her grew louder. A light touched the area to the side of her. Then it swept over her as though icy fingers scraped across her. A shout slashed through her thundering heartbeat and sent terror straight to her core.
“There! She’s almost to the highway.”
“Get her,” the rough voice commanded off to the right.
Suddenly Emma didn’t see any more headlights on the highway. Darkness surrounded her. Then the beam behind her found her again. She darted to the left, trying to evade the brightness. Ten feet.
In the distance the sound of a car filled the night with hope. She plunged from the cover of the trees and headed toward the headlights barreling down upon her.
A shot rang out from the forest. Panicked, she raced forward.
“Come on, Reverend Fitzpatrick. We’re gonna be late. Five miles over the speed limit isn’t really breaking the law,” Brent Hardwood said over the loud music playing on the radio.
Colin Fitzpatrick threw his passenger in the front seat a grin. “Is that your reasoning? No wonder the sheriff has given you several tickets in the past few months.”
“Yeah, Brent. One more and your license will be suspended.”
Brent twisted around in the seat. “You’re no better, Jamie. You just haven’t been caught. It wasn’t that long ago you were drag racing on Miller Road.”
“Guys, I don’t think I want to hear this. I might be obliged to inform a few parents. And since Neil’s dad is the sheriff, it might prove to be a bit awkward.”
“Isn’t this covered under some confessional rule?” Neil Logan asked from the back seat.
Colin laughed. “No, afraid not.”
“Well, it should be,” Brent mumbled, his arms folded across his chest. He leaned forward and turned up the radio even more. “This is one of my favorite songs.” He began tapping the dashboard to the beat of the music.
Colin settled back, listening to the ribbing among the three teenage boys, each trying to talk over the radio. Best friends. Members of his church. Leaders of the youth group. Today’s conference at Central City had been a success. He was already anticipating the young men working with the rest of the youth group to teach them the conflict resolution techniques they had learned.
Maybe he could use the techniques on some of the conflicts he’d found himself caught up in lately. What he really needed was some evasive tactics or disappearing ones. He thought of Mrs. Reed’s little matchmaking maneuver last weekend with her niece who had come to visit for the month. He’d barely escaped that trap. He’d been married once to a wonderful woman. He didn’t see himself marrying again.
“Reverend, my big sis wants you to come in after you drop me off.”
Brent’s statement caught Colin’s full attention for a few seconds. He glanced at the seventeen-year-old and said, “It’s been a long day and tomorrow is a school day.”
“Mary will be mighty disappointed. I think she baked you a German chocolate cake. She promised me a slice if I could get you to come in.”
“While I appreciate—”
Something darted out of the trees and plunged toward his car. Colin slammed his foot on the brake at the same time the person—a woman—halted in the middle of the road, her shocked expression reflected in the glare of his headlights.
Emma stopped on the pavement, the car careening toward her. Paralyzed for a few precious seconds, she stared at the set of bright lights coming at her. Move! her mind screamed. Now!
Life flooded back into her legs, and she began to lunge toward the opposite side of the road—away from the killers. Pain exploded in her left shoulder, spinning her back into the path of the car.
Colin swerved the wheel of his SUV hard, trying to avoid the woman. Just as he thought he would, she twisted back toward his car. Even though his vehicle was slowing down, he couldn’t stop fast enough. The shouts from his passengers and the loud music drowned out the sound of him striking the person, but he felt the impact as though it vibrated through him to his soul. She reeled off the front end of his bumper while he fought to control his SUV. Fishtailing a few feet farther, his car finally came to a stop.
“Is everyone all right?” Colin checked his passengers, his hands shaking so much they slipped from the wheel.
“Yeah,” Brent answered, straining to see out the window.
“Man! What was that? A deer?” Jamie Zamets asked, his eyes wide as he craned his neck around to see behind them.
“Do you think it’s dead?” Neil asked from the back seat, the shaken tone to his question making it come out as a whisper.
“It was a woman,” Brent said, unbuckling his seat beat.
“Stay put.” Colin forced all the command he had learned in the army into his voice. He was afraid of what he would find when he got out and he didn’t want the teenagers to see.
Colin hurried from the vehicle, slamming the door to emphasize the fact that he wanted the boys to stay in the car. He ran around the back of his vehicle and came to a skidding stop six feet from the rear bumper.
Lying on the pavement was a slim, petite figure, dressed in pants and a shirt, the darkness obscuring the woman’s features, the illumination from the taillights not strong enough for him to assess her injuries. Colin knelt to feel for a pulse. A faint beat beneath his fingertips sent relief through him. The scent of blood assailed his nostrils. She was alive but for how long?
“Rev, I thought you might need—” Brent’s sentence came to an abrupt halt as the flashlight he carried caught the victim in its glare.
“She’s beautiful,” the teen finally murmured.
Colin’s gaze skimmed over the woman’s face, bleeding from scratches that had nothing to do with the wreck. Beneath the cuts, he had to acknowledge, were very pleasing features, framed by a mass of long black curls. “Here, let me have that and you get back in the car.”
The slamming sound of two doors slashed through the silence. Colin knew there was no way he would be able to protect them now.
“Is she dead?” Jamie asked, coming up beside Brent.
“No. Don’t you all know how to follow directions?”
