Page 35 of Grave Possession (Grave #2)

Chapter Twenty-seven

Graves

S he’s here? Where is “here”? The mill? Her house? Where the fuck is my uncle that he can see Mallory?

It has to be the mill. It’s where he said he was headed after he dropped off the jerry cans.

Guilt eats at me like a ravenous beast for leaving Victoria behind, but I can’t be in two places at once. She’s safer than Mallory at this point in time.

I take off like a rocket, running down the path, and diving into the bush. Branches lash my body from every direction but I barely notice as I rush back to the ATV.

Frantically pulling the keys from my pocket, I drop them. “Fuck sakes,” I huff. They sink down into the long grass, and I lose my shit. Dropping to my knees, I savagely rip the blades up by the root, carelessly tossing them away.

Finally retrieving the key, I turn it in the ignition.

The quad roars to life and idles as I remove the rifle from my back, placing it in the protective case attached to the four- wheeler.

I tuck Mal’s book safely into the storage compartment, then throw my leg over the quad and drop my ass onto the seat.

Kicking it into gear, I take off, going back the way I came.

My helmet flies off the front rack, hitting the dirt and rolling across the ground.

To hell with it, I’m not stopping to pick it up.

Every second counts right now. I’ll get it when I inevitably have to return to this nightmare of a crime scene.