A Spring Kill : It’s Spring, and a new evil has awoken. (The Killing Seasons Book 2) by JK Ellem

Author:JK Ellem [Ellem, JK]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: 28th Street Multimedia Group
Published: 2023-07-13T23:00:00+00:00

31

FINITO

The sound of the car fades, and somewhere up ahead above the treetops, I can see a dull sliver of moon rising.

I run faster. Frances cannot reach the cabin first if Pritchard is there. He will surely kill her, and it will be my fault. She’s a kind soul, a genuinely nice person who is only trying to help. Obviously, she must have realized she had given me the wrong directions. Instead of leaving me to my own devices to find the correct cabin, she’s driven up here to find me. It’s not her fault, but if she dies, I will never forgive myself.

I’m on the dirt road, out in the open, but I don’t care who sees me now. Getting to the cabin as fast as I can is my only concern. I’ve jettisoned my backpack containing my water and a flashlight, so I can run faster. I stumble several times, my toes catching on large stones, my ankle jolting as my foot suddenly skews into a pothole. The road is rutted and furrowed, uneven and callous on my feet. My heart is pounding, and I ignore the burning sensation in my thighs, calves, and throat.

It can’t be that much farther now surely. The road flattens out, and I increase my speed as it curves to the left before cutting through a gap in the hedge. I keep running hard.

Silhouettes of trees crowding around me. A canopy of branches thickening over me like earth being tossed over my coffin, trapping me inside.

Moments later, I emerge into an expanse of open ground, a cabin on the right, and immediately my gaze is wrenched to an oval glow in the distant darkness on my left. It’s as though someone has cut a hole into the black fabric of the night and is shining a search beam through it.

With my chest heaving and my lungs screaming, I skid to a halt to catch my breath.

The luminous opening is just hanging there in the darkness, and as mesmerizing as it is, something urges my eyes back to the cabin on the right. Then the devil touches my soul as my eyes find what is parked next to it. The cabin is in darkness, but there’s enough moonlight to give the skin of a black RAM truck a ghostly pale sheen. Shadow obscures the license plate, yet my intuition is clear and unhindered.

Automatically, I reach for my handgun—to find there’s nothing on my waist, just my belt.

The Ford Taurus I saw before is parked next to the pickup truck and I rush to it, but there’s no one inside. Then I catch sight of the license plate on the truck, and it’s like my stomach has fallen all the way to my aching feet.

Pritchard is here. It’s his truck.

But where is Frances? Where did she go?

I angle around to the front of the cabin just in time to see the door open and a person emerge from the shadows. Is that a gun in their hand? Then my face is flooded with light.

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