Rachelle McCalla - Survival Instinct

Though Abby had been the first one out the door, Scott’s long legs quickly carried him past her. He held tight to her hand, and by the time they reached the edge of the parking lot, he was pulling her.

“Hurry,” he encouraged her in a low voice as the door to The Brick opened behind them.

A quick glance back told Abby that all three men had come out after them. She choked back a scream and scrambled forward over the uneven ground, hardly noticing the thick layer of ice that coated the ground after a night of freezing rain. She feared the men behind her far more than she feared falling down.

The side of the bluff fell away in front of them in a steep track of overgrown sidewalk. Scott paused for a second in front of her, but before she could stop herself, her forward momentum carried her sliding into his back. He tipped forward unsteadily, threw his weight backward, and their feet shot out from under them on the slick ice. They skidded down the bluff in a tangle of legs and flailing arms.

Abby tried to grab hold of something, to gain some measure of control over her path, but the slick ice coated everything. She wanted to scream, but didn’t dare give away their position to the men who followed them.

The men’s voices carried through the night.

“Where’d they go?”

“Down the hill!”

“I don’t see them.”

“There! On the sidewalk!”

“Not on foot, you idiot. We’ll take the truck. They won’t get far.”

An engine roared to life above them as Abby and Scott continued their out-of-control slide down the steep incline. With an angry bump, Abby’s hip rammed into the side of the curb where a street bisected the slope.

Scott gained his feet and tried to pull her up. “Come on, hurry. They’re right behind us.”

Abby managed to get one knee hooked over the curb before her leg slid sideways and knocked Scott’s feet out from under him. He landed half on top of her, sending them both skidding downward again. She flung her arms out, grasping for a hold as the incline steepened further and they hurtled downward with increasing speed.

“Hold on!” Scott fingers wrapped around hers, and though they continued to shoot down the hillside, he somehow got her tucked between his knees, with his arms wrapped safely around her shoulders, positioned as though they were riding a toboggan. But instead of a solid sled beneath them, the seats of their jeans shot across the ice, every bump and rut jarring their legs, bruising them as they went.

The sound of an accelerating engine echoed across the bluff above them, and Abby realized just how close their pursuers were. With a jolt, they skidded to a stop at the next curb, and Abby looked up to see the church.

“Hurry.” Scott pitched them forward again, but the ground leveled on the church’s lot, and though they skidded crazily on their hands and knees, they no longer moved forward with any speed. “We’re sitting ducks. We’ve got to get out of here,” Scott hissed at her as he lunged himself off the sidewalk and onto the church lawn.

Abby rolled forward until she reached the grass. Though every blade bore a thick coating of ice, the uneven surface gave her some measure of traction after the smooth slickness of the sidewalk and street. “This way,” she shouted, scrambling sideways across the churchyard.

With a minimum of slipping and sliding, they scuttled past the church to the edge of the steep ravine that cut through the west side of the lot. Abby paused for a second and looked down at the jagged ice-covered rocks. Her tender legs cried out in protest after all the bruises she’d bought with her trip down the bluff. But then headlights flashed in front of them as the truck made the corner at the top of the street.

“Down!” Abby cried, stepping off into the darkness and landing with a skidding thump on her rear. Beside her, Scott descended more or less on his feet. He reached the bottom of the forty-foot ravine and pulled her after him toward the storm drain that ran beneath the street.

“Duck,” he urged as he leaned toward the dark opening.

Abby balked. “No,” she whimpered, blinking at the blackness. “Anything could be in there. Do you want to wake a hibernating bear?”

“We don’t have a choice,” Scott whispered intently at her ear. He tugged on her arm.

Above them, the truck screeched to a halt and the men’s voices rang through the night.

“Where’d they go?”

“I saw them by the church.”

“Check the ravine!”

Abby realized she had no other choice. She pressed her cheek to Scott’s warm flannel shirt and ducked with him into the darkness.

The space was tight, the metal freezing cold against their backs, the voices above them much too close. At any moment, Abby fully expected a badger to attack them from the darkness, or Tim’s crazed face to appear in the opening before them. She pinched her eyes shut and waited.

Scott’s chest rose and fell beneath her cheek as he sucked in huge silent breaths. She clung to him as though somehow, by just holding him tightly enough, she could ward off everyone who hunted them. Her mind swarmed with fear and prayers as she asked God to make them invisible, to blind the eyes of their pursuers, and shield them from danger.

“I’m not going down there. I’ll break my neck.” A thick Wisconsin brogue echoed off the rocks as the beam of a flashlight bounced through the ravine.

“I don’t see them anyway.”

“So what did they do? I didn’t see what happened.”

“They know things.” Tim’s voice stuttered uncertainly. “They know things they shouldn’t know.”

“You and your conspiracy theories,” the other voice followed. “Here I thought they were some of Sal’s guys.”

“Sal’s guys?” the brogue chided. “Nah. Sal don’t work with girls or pretty boys.”

The voices faded and a moment later, Abby heard truck doors slamming.

Though her breathing slowed, she still clutched tightly at Scott’s quilted flannel shirt. A shudder chased up and down her spine as she considered how close they’d come to capture. She sucked in a trembling breath.

“What was that, Abby?” Scott’s lips skirted her hairline as he whispered close to her ear. “What were you doing up there?”

She twitched a tiny shrug. “I could see the wheels turning in Tim’s mind. I knew at any moment he’d realize he shouldn’t be talking to me. I had to ask him. I couldn’t beat around the bush any longer. I had to know.”

Scott’s hands made their way up her back and pressed her tighter against him as he spoke. “But why did you even go into that place? What were you thinking?”

She pulled away from him slightly and tried to look at him, but the darkness inside the drain was too deep for her to see anything but the tiniest glint off his eyes. “I thought we needed answers. And we got some.”

“But at what cost?” Scott pressed.

“We know what they’re after now, don’t we?”

“They’re after us. ”

“They want the rings. And the land.” Abby closed her eyes and rested her head against Scott’s strong shoulder. She felt so tired and sore. “Did you hear what Tim said? They’ve been smuggling in fake diamonds and passing them off as the real thing for years. Only now someone’s figured out what they’ve got, and they have to cover their tracks. That’s why Trevor wants his ring back-because if the authorities knew where it came from, it would lead them straight to him.”

“And you could do the same thing, Abby.”

“Do what?”

“Lead the authorities to Trevor.”

Abby swallowed. “I will. I don’t owe him anything. I’ll tell Tracie everything I know. I’ve got the ring in my pocket right now. She can have it. It’s evidence.”