Page 84 of Storm Warning
Just as she took the first step, she heard it.
A soft rustle. Too deliberate. Too close.
Behind her.
Every muscle in Kate’s body locked. Time slowed, each heartbeat thundering in her ears like a drum. With excruciating slowness, she turned her head, her breath frozen in her lungs.
A figure emerged from the dense foliage beside the trail, moving with the fluid silence of a predator. Dark clothing. Tall. Male. His face was obscured by shadows and the peak of a dark cap pulled low.
For one crystalline moment, their eyes met.
And Kate knew.
This wasn’t paranoia. This was real.
Terror detonated in her chest, white-hot and absolute. Her brain screamed commands—run, scream, fight—but her body remained frozen, trapped in that terrible moment of recognition.
Then the spell broke.
Kate spun and ran.
Her sandals slapped against the paved trail, the sound loud in her ears. The beach bag slipped from her shoulder, but she didn’t stop. Her breath came in ragged gasps, her lungs burning as adrenaline flooded her system with chemicals meant to save her life.
The guard. Get to the guard. Scream. Run. Run. RUN.
But she’d barely taken three steps when powerful arms seized her.
The impact drove the air from her lungs in a whoosh. She registered hard muscle, the scratch of fabric against her bare skin, and the overwhelming strength of her attacker as he towed her backward. Her feet left the ground, sandals flying off as she kicked wildly, her heels connecting with shin, knee, anything she could reach.
A scream built in her throat, clawing its way up from her diaphragm with desperate force.
A gloved hand clamped over her lips, stifling the sound. Smooth leather covered her mouth, smelling of something chemical and wrong. Kate twisted her head frantically, trying to dislodge it, her jaw working to open enough to bite down. Her hands flew up, nails scrabbling at the hand cutting off her scream, finding purchase in the leather and digging deep furrows even though she couldn’t reach skin.
No. No no no no no.
She thrashed with every ounce of strength, her body bucking and writhing in his grip. Her elbow connected with something solid—ribs, maybe—and a grunt of pain sent savage satisfaction through her even as terror continued its icy spread through her veins.
But he was too strong, his movements calculated, controlled, as if he’d done this before. As if she weren’t the first woman he’d dragged from a sunlit path into darkness.
The thought sent fresh horror rushing through her.
He hauled her backward, her heels scraping twin furrows in the dirt as he dragged her off the trail. Branches caught at her clothes, scratched at her exposed skin. A sharp twig knifed across her calf, and pain flared as blood welled hotly.
Where was the guard? Why wasn’t anyone helping her? Could no one hear the struggle, the muffled sounds of her terror?
Kate’s eyes darted wildly, searching desperately for help, for witnesses, for anything. Her vision remained empty. The beautiful morning had betrayed her, its peace a lie. The brilliant blue sky peeked through the canopy, bright and cheerful and utterly indifferent to her suffering.
Please. Please, someone. Anyone.
She tried again to scream against the hand; the soundemerging as nothing more than a desperate, muted whimper that made her eyes burn with frustrated tears. Her lungs ached for air, but she only managed shallow sniffs through her nose, the scent of leather and chemicals and her own fear-sweat overwhelming.
Then—a sharp pinch on her upper arm, like a wasp sting.
No.
Kate’s eyes flew wide. She looked down and caught a glimpse of a syringe being withdrawn, the metal glinting in a shaft of sunlight before disappearing from view.
No. Please, no.