Lisa Jackson - Born To Die

She’d taken three steps through the knee-high snow, around the side of the garage, nearly at the gate separating the backyard from the barnyard, when she saw movement out of the corner of her eye.

Her heart squeezed.

Eli?

She turned.

No, much too tall, she realized as the dark figure of a man began to take shape, a man emerging from the back porch.

Trace?

Thank God!

Relief washed over her and she started heading his way. “Trace—” she began to call when the sound suddenly died in her throat.

Fear congealed her blood.

Just the way he moved warned her. Caused the hairs on the back of her neck to stand on end. The falling snow blurred the image, but now that he was closer she knew he wasn’t Trace. Dressed in black from head to foot, odd-shaped goggles over a ski mask, a rifle in one gloved hand, he started to jog toward her.

No!

She took off at a sprint, running, fast as she could through the thick powder, churning up snow, getting nowhere. She heard him behind her, coming ever faster. On level ground she might have had a chance, but she was breaking the trail and he was following. Gaining.

Oh, God!

Frantic, she yanked her phone from her pocket, hit redial and started to yell over the cry of the wind. “Trace!” she screamed but her voice was lost in the storm.

“Bitch!” he snarled so close to her and she plunged forward, bracing herself, knowing a bullet was soon to crack her spine.

Faster! Faster! Faster!

Adrenaline spurred her on.

“Trace!” she screamed again.

If only she had a weapon, a knife, a rock, anything !

Blam!

Pain exploded in the back of her head.

Her knees buckled and she fell forward. Arms flung out, stretched. Her phone spiraled into the air to plummet into a drift. Snow covered her face and her eyes felt as if they were jarred from her head. I’m dying, she thought, her brain on fire. I’ve lost them all. .

Blackness pulled at her consciousness and she expected the darkness to overcome her, yet she felt his hands upon her. Rough, circling her ankles, dragging her backward through the frozen snow and ice.

She heard him breathing. Swearing. Ranting.

“. . supercilious bitch… ruining everything. . a doctor. . yeah, right… think you’re so damned smart. .”

She tried to fight, to struggle, but her brain wouldn’t engage and she felt him drag her up the steps of the house, her chin bouncing on each icy ledge. Bang, bang, bang! Her chin split. Cartilage in her nose crunched. Pain ripped up her face. Tears sprang to her eyes and she moaned. A stinging, as if by a thousand yellowjackets had attacked her, pierced her skin. Blood trailed across the porch, following her into the house.

It was all she could do to stay conscious.

Who was he? she wondered, but knew it didn’t matter. The fact that she wasn’t dead already meant that he had plans for her… ugly, horrific plans.

Think, Kacey, think! Don’t give up. Don’t let the darkness overtake you! Hang on. .

He kept dragging her across the linoleum kitchen floor and into the den where the fire burned low, reddish embers glowing in the hearth. Then he rolled her onto her back. She felt the blood staining her face.

“I’ve waited years for this,” he growled and for the first time she realized she hadn’t been shot. No way would she have survived a rifle blast to the head. But the butt of his rifle showed red stains and hairs where he’d slammed it into the back of her head. “God damn it, I wish I would have killed you the last time.”

In the parking garage, she thought. This man dressed in black was the same man who had attacked her years before! Who the hell was he?

“But then I wouldn’t be able to savor it now.” The voice. . oh, God, he was one of the twins! Cameron? Colton? Did it matter? He looked down at her through his black ski mask and she imagined he was smiling, feeling superior. “Take my time.”

She blinked, trying to stay focused.

“You’re one of them, you know,” he said. “The ‘Unknowings’. Those Gerald spawned. Females, who are compromised .”

What? The pain in her body was agonizing, but she was keeping lucid with an effort, her gaze surreptitiously searching for a weapon, anything she could use against him, though he was still holding her ankles in one big hand, his other clutching his rifle.

He was still railing, “Like Aggie with her ‘mental challenges’ and Kathleen with her depression. Suicidal, they claimed. But it ran deeper. Much, much deeper. A genetic flaw. The flaw of all of Gerald’s female offspring. It might not be evident early, but eventually it comes out.”

“That’s crazy,” she said with difficulty, knowing somehow she had to turn the tables on him. “ You’re insane.”

He flinched, then shook it off. “Don’t,” he warned, shaking his head. “Don’t.” He drew in a shaky breath and she realized he was unraveling, what little grip he had on his mind was fraying second by second. His fingers tightened roughly over her ankles. “It doesn’t matter what you think, Acacia. Never has. Because you’re one of them. The ones that could ruin everything. The lunatic females.”

He was certifiable. He’d made up some crazy, nightmare fantasy about the female progeny of his father. “What about Clarissa?” she asked through painful, swollen lips.

“In time. . it has to be all according to the plan. . accidents. . arranged at the right time. .”

She had to get away from this maniac! She had to save herself and save Eli!

The fire popped loudly.

As if he realized he was rambling, he snapped his head quickly back and forth and the eyes that had been staring at her through his mask glared fiercely. “Enough of this! We’re done here. It’s over for you!”

Now!

With all her strength, Kacey suddenly twisted her entire body.

His fingers slipped around her ankles. “Shit!”

She was free!

Zeroing in on his crotch, she kicked upward.

Hard as she could.

Her boot connected with soft tissue.

“Oooooh!” She nailed him directly in the groin and he doubled over. “Shit!” He dragged in his breath so that it whistled through his teeth. “You. . fuckin’. . bitch!”

Quickly, while he was disabled, she scrambled backward, trying to get to her feet, bumping a shoulder into the edge of the couch, her mind still thick from the blow to her head. Where the hell was Trace? she thought wildly as she forced herself upright and sprang through the archway to the kitchen. She had to get away. Find Trace! Locate Eli! Oh dear God, had this monster already killed them both?

Her attacker was sputtering, muttering crazy invectives, moving ! She heard his footsteps as he gathered himself.

“. . son of a fuckin’ bitch. . I’ll make you pay. .”

Trace’s phone was on the kitchen counter… somewhere in the dark. . if she could just get there… snag it and run out into the night, she might have a chance! She could call 9-1-1, or Alvarez or. . Her head still thundered, her mind was still thick, her face ached, but she lunged forward.

Click!

The distinctive sound of a rifle being cocked echoed through her brain.

“You’re not going anywhere,” he said, his voice rough. “Not after all the years of waiting.”

The phone was less than three feet away!

She felt the cold barrel of the rifle pressing against her back.

“Move and I’ll pull the trigger,” he promised.

She froze. Heard the moan of the storm outside. Wondered what her chances were. There were knives here… sharp, deadly blades… If she could just find them in the dark. .