Secrets At Crescent Point by Raquel Byrnes

Author:Raquel Byrnes [Byrnes, Raquel]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: christian Fiction
ISBN: 9781611163407
Publisher: Pelican Ventures Book Group
Published: 2014-08-31T04:00:00+00:00

21

Deep black pressed as I tripped and stumbled down the tunnel. Breath coming in hitches, I struggled to keep panic at bay as I ran. Jagged outcroppings tore at my sleeves and bruised my arms as I pushed forward, navigating the sinuous path in the pitch dark. Behind me, I heard a low howl echo.

Keep running. Don’t look back.

A faint glow appeared as I rounded a curve. I moved faster, straining for the light. The ground rose, angling up and my leg muscles burned as I climbed. Ahead, tangled vines hung over the opening and I reached for them, tearing through the curtain of greenery with a frantic gasp. Tumbling to my knees, I blinked, confused.

Where was I?

With grass between my fingers and fog shifting just above the ground, I stood with shaking knees. Panting, I looked around at the forest. Oak branches swayed and creaked overhead as the wind pushed the thick mist between the trunks. The dark cloying haze of the woods seemed to close in and I stood, wanting to move. To get away.

Far off, the ocean waves crashed below, and I squinted at the rocks just outside the tree line. A stone semi-circle against the sky; I was at Crescent Point. I listened at the tunnel’s opening, but nothing followed me out. No ghostly remains reached out of the darkness to pull me back and my heart calmed.

Noise, men’s voices, floated to me, so I walked to the edge of the cliff and looked down at the beach below.

Sheriff Thompson stood next to his golf cart parked on the sand near the water. Several deputies stood next to him, their hats off as they stared down at the ground.

My heart leapt. I needed to get down there, to tell him what happened. Whoever or whatever chased me into the tunnels might still be there. Turning, my gaze snapped to the path that led down from Crescent Point to the beach. I ran. Through the trees and brambles, I hurled across small meadow flowers whipping at my legs. Skidding down the final stretch of dirt road, I slid to a stop just before the sand. My lips parted with surprise.

An ambulance drove up the strand, lights and sirens off, easing next to the others. Parker Jones got out and unfurled a tarp. Its bright yellow expanse snapped in the wind. He covered a form on the beach.

Thompson stood, arms crossed, talking to him.

Gnawing worry gripped my gut and I peered, trying to get a closer look. It was a body, I was sure of it. Why else would they have an ambulance?

Thompson turned as I walked up. Putting up his arms, he shook his head. “Raven, this is a crime scene—” His brows furrowed. “What happened to you?”

“I–I was…who is that?” An offshore breeze pushed the edges of the tarp, and I gasped when I saw a gash on the arm. Unable to tear my eyes from the damage, I lunged, reaching for the edge of the covering.

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