Predator by Terri Blackstock Read Free Book Online

his skin. She tried to sit up and kick free, but the more she fought, the more he enjoyed this. She tried to hit him with the keys in her hand, scratched at his chest, his arm. He grabbed her hand and almost broke her fingers getting the keys, shoved them in his coat pocket. He wrestled her red coat off of her, cast it aside, so she no longer had the pen or the breath spray.
    Think, she told herself. Fight.
    Her arms and legs flailed, her teeth bit, her body rocked. His fist cracked across her jaw. She felt it dislocate. Saw stars. Rain. Black clouds.
    Heard thunder.
    Another crack across her forehead. Then her mouth…her ribs, her kidneys.
    She pulled herself into a fetal position. God…please God …
    She heard the man’s heavy breathing as he bent over her. “You good Christian girls…so innocent…so naive. I’m going to enjoy getting to know you, Megan. And then I’m going to bury you alive…No one will ever find you.”
    She tasted blood and balled herself tighter…bracing herself for what was to come.

Ten
    M egan wished she were dead, so she pretended to be. She lay limp, her face and lips swelling, her sides an agonizing blend of splintered ribs and bruised kidneys, her knee torn, her legs bloody. She opened her swollen eyes and saw him, his back to her, as he shoveled into the wet soil.
    Was he digging her grave?
    She couldn’t just lie here, waiting for him to bury her. Somehow she had to get away. She sat up quietly, wincing at the pain, but not making a sound. She pulled her wet clothes back into place. Silently, she got to her knees, gritting her teeth to keep from crying out, then got her feet under her. Only one shoe…one foot bare…She managed to stand up, to take a step, pain slicing through her…then another.
    He heard her and swung around, reaching for his gun.
    Her last reserve of adrenaline shot through her, and shestumbled into a run, deep into the woods, searching for a branch that could be used as a weapon, or some place to hide. A shot fired, missing her, and she kept going. Either she would die running, or she would escape. She pounded through the brush, tearing it back and ducking under. She heard his breath and the sucking of his feet in the mud as he came closer.
    She saw a fallen log, about two feet in diameter, and eight or nine feet long. Could she squeeze inside? Would he look for her there?
    She threw herself to the ground at the opening and went in headfirst, sliding into cobwebs across rotten wood, fearing the creatures inside less than the one outside. She heard his footsteps as he ran past, cursing. His voice faded as he ran farther away.
    She lay still, trembling in the tomb of the tree trunk. He could still come back.
    Nausea worked through her digestive tract, threatening to spew out. Would she have to lie here in her own vomit? No, she had to hold it back. She tasted blood in her mouth, and felt hot and cold at the same time, dizziness whirling in her head.
    God, help me survive.
    Something slimy crawled across her leg, and she tried to shake it off. Think about something else. She forced her mind back to her Sunday school days, when she’d memorized passages of scripture. She tried to remember Psalm 27.
The Lord is my light and my salvation; Whom shall I fear?
    The Lord is the defense of my life; Whom shall I dread?
    When evildoers come upon me to devour my flesh, My adversaries and my enemies, they stumbled and fell.
    She couldn’t remember what came next, so she silently repeated those words again and again. She heard him coming back, lumbering through the woods, pausing near her log. Was she far enough in that he couldn’t see her feet? She dared not move. Her mind sought distraction, so she groped for more of the Psalm.
For in the day of trouble He will conceal me in His tabernacle;
    In the secret place of His tent He will hide me;
    He will lift me up on a rock…
    Again, the next words failed her, and she struggled for more snippets of the passage she had once