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CHAPTER SIXTEEN

THE MALDONADOS

Amid the throbbing of his pulse in his ears, David hears the man racing behind him, getting closer. He doesn’t dare look back; if he loses even a nanosecond, his assailant will catch him.

He sees the railing to the stairs that lead up to the resort. His pursuer must see the exit too because he tries to cut David off.

A seizure of terror rips through him, but he keeps running.

The moon dips through the thick layer of clouds and David spots a makeshift path up the steep bluff some twenty yards away. A downed tree leans against the sandy cliff, where someone carved handholds into the side of the bluff. David sprints for it, his breathing ragged.

He should stop, turn and fight. But the man is clutching something in his hand, David is certain of it, and if it’s a weapon, he’ll have no chance.

He reaches the tree and starts to clamber up the trunk. He makes it to the top, pulling himself up the makeshift ladder of holes in the rock face. Dread spreads through him when he hears the man huffing close behind him. What does he want ? Why is he chasing him?

David climbs higher, his pounding heart nearly ripping a hole through his chest. Near the top, he thrusts his right arm over the bank. It’s overgrown with weeds and brush and seems unstable. He grips the foliage and starts to yank himself up, but the sandy cliffside crumbles under his weight. The weeds pull loose and the last thing David remembers is the man shouting something as David falls backward to the earth far below.