Free Fall by Kyle Mills

Author:Kyle Mills [Mills, Kyle]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 978-0-06-203193-8
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2000-09-10T04:00:00+00:00

thirty

Darby could barely see the outline of her arm and the deep cut across the back of it. She pushed the wound closed and spread a liberal amount of Krazy Glue across it, then let the breeze blow it dry. The combination of stress and hunger-induced light-headedness was making her clumsy and she’d walked right into the open cap on her truck. Tomorrow, she would make the drive to town and find some food. It would have to be at a free happy hour buffet or a grocery store that gave samples. Despite the added risk of being recognized in one of those places, she had no choice—she wasn’t sure she had enough gas to make it to the L.A. airport as it was.

She pulled her sleeping bag up a little higher around her neck and propped herself against the tire of her truck. The tiny clearing she was camped in was almost pitch black—dark enough now that she wasn’t sure if she was seeing the outline of the tall pines that surrounded her or if her mind was filling them in from memory. She’d been there for a few days now, thirty miles from the nearest town and ten from the nearest paved road. She didn’t dare build a fire, so there was little more than the cold and her hunger to keep her company. Normally that wouldn’t have been as much of a problem, but the mental games she’d perfected while trapped for endless hours in tents and storms didn’t work when she jumped at every twig snap and wind gust.

On the way there, she’d stopped at a library with Internet access and spent as long as she had dared searching for information on herself and Tristan. She’d found that most was on climbing-related sites and consisted of wild speculation in her favor. Jared Palermo had apparently organized an exhaustive search of the mountains surrounding the New River Gorge, pulling in climbers from all over the country. She hoped she’d get a chance to thank him someday. There weren’t many people lucky enough to have friends like that.

The national media hadn’t taken much interest in her, thank God. With the election coming up and the condition of the economy, they had bigger fish to fry. What she had learned was that the police were looking for her, convinced that she was responsible for Tristan’s death. She’d also learned how he died—hacked apart by an ice tool. The image of Tristan’s bare foot hanging from the door of her van had haunted her since the night she’d seen it. With that new piece of information, though, her imagination had connected the rest of his body to it The vision came to her every night: Tristan, brutally slashed, staring blindly through the blood-splattered windows of her van.

She told herself over and over that he had known what he was getting himself into when he stole the file. That she was not responsible. That revenge was the reaction of the stupid and violent.

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