Dark heart by Margaret Weis; David Baldwin

Author:Margaret Weis; David Baldwin
Language: eng
Format: mobi
ISBN: 9780061052989
Publisher: HarperPrism
Published: 1998-08-27T04:00:00+00:00

Thirteen

Wet leaves slapped her face. Sandra ran as fast as her aching legs could carry her. She stumbled around tropical tree trunks and thrashed through wet bushes. Yellow rays of oppressive sunlight flickered through the thick foliage overhead.

The black fox had been tracking her. It remained at a distance, watching calmly, sprinting to keep up with her, loping alongside sometimes, stopping with her when she had to rest. In contrast to her own noisy progress, it never made a sound, slipping through the dense rain forest like a dark ghost. Or perhaps she simply couldn’t hear it over her own ragged breath, over the blood that pounded heavily in her temples.

A golden crow cawed overhead and she ran past a white gorilla shaking the banana tree. She had to get away. He was back there, somewhere, and getting closer. Of that she was sure. If she didn’t run faster, if she didn’t get out of this accursed jungle, he would catch her.

An unseen root smacked her in the shin. The root was a trash can and it clanged loudly as it tangled up in her legs. She cried out and tumbled to the forest floor. The black fox moved closer.

“No!” she screamed, warding it off with her hands, but the fox stopped a few feet away from her and sat on its haunches, watching.

Her chest rose and fell like a bellows. Her jeans and T-shirt were soaked with sweat, pulling at her as she tried to twist to her feet—

Too late.

She screamed again. The sun illuminated him. His red hair flamed. His trench coat was dry, despite the wet forest, and it rippled lightly around his ankles. Each pimple, each freckle, was a diseased spot on his face. He raised the knife over his head.

She forced herself to roll out of the way. The blade plunged into the earth. She dragged herself to her feet and tried to run.

No sooner had she lurched away from him than she stumbled again, clipped by a bush. She fell . . . . . . and fell . . .

. .. and landed on the hard, flagstone floor of the Cathedral of St. Joseph. The jungle noises stopped. No tropical birds cawed overhead. No chameleons took slow, careful strolls across scaled trees. The leafy ceiling had been replaced by high, ribbed vaults. The hot sun had given way to the cool, tomb-like echo of the church.

Her breathing reverberated around her. Slowly she rose to her knees, hampered by the white dress she now wore. She looked down at it. The gown was floor-length, had no belt, and was made of a heavy fabric that was threatening to suffocate her. Already the sweat of her body was wetting it, causing it to cling to her skin.

A slight scufflingsound caught her attention and she looked up at the altar. The black fox stood there, watching her.

Her breathing had begun to slow. Her heart had begun to calm.

“Oh, God, no . . .”she whispered.

“Did you think you could escape me?’ The voice came from behind her.

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