Page 255 of It Happened on the Lake

She snatched the gun and threw herself behind a furnace. She had to get out of here. To hide somewhere. To save herself.

The flashlight moved, the beam shining over the walls.

He had it.

Damn, damn, damn!

“Where are you, Harper?” he said, his voice reverberating through the cavernous basement. She’d been an idiot to think she could take him, her anger getting the better of her. And now he was tracking her down as if she were prey.

But she had the shotgun.

If she had the guts to use it.

As he was between her and the stairs leading to the main house, she was forced to slink toward the door to the tunnel. Inching along the wall, watching as the flashlight’s beam washed over the old walls, she crept silently.

He was getting closer, the beam nearly at her feet when she reached the door to the tunnel and quietly turned the knob, silently praying it wasn’t locked. The door opened with a loud creak.

At the noise the beam of the flashlight moved swiftly, catching her in its glare.

She ran.

Fast as she was able, she slipped through the door and ran, tripping on the steps, but somehow managing to stay on her feet. If she could get to the boathouse, she could dive into the water, hide from him, and surface wherever she chose. She could swim to Rand’s house or Levi’s or even the Sievers’. It wasn’t that far.

She heard him behind her.

Breathing hard, big footsteps speeding, the flashlight catching her.

“Stop!” he yelled at her.

God in heaven, he was so close.

Frantic, she told herself she could use the shotgun if she absolutely had to. Even though she’d never shot a living creature in her life. The targets she’d practiced on years before were all clay pigeons, inanimate discs.

But things had changed.

And now, she realized, she could no longer threaten or intimidate him with the loaded gun. He wouldn’t believe for a second that she would actually fire at him.

So she ran. As fast as she could. The boathouse was just ahead, the lake a few more steps. She could swim away. Or she could shoot him. She’d figure it out soon.

She heard him clambering behind her, his footsteps growing louder, though they echoed as if there were more people pursuing her, a host of assassins trailing behind him.

Run, Harper, run!

She was running blind, the tunnel ahead of her dark, the steps within causing her to stumble. The footsteps behind her got louder. Closer. The flashlight’s beam piercing the darkness.

Zing!

A dart zipped past the side of her head.

Oh crap!

She redoubled her efforts, running in a zigzag pattern.

Zing!

Another dart flew past her shoulder to fall to the ground in the darkness ahead. The tiny little missiles wouldn’t kill her, but they sure could wound her. Slow her down.

Her foot slipped on a step. She caught herself but glanced back.