Sarah stood, then wiped her hands off on her filthy jeans. She searched for a weapon of any sort, then ran her hand over the floor, but couldn’t spot or feel anything within the blackness.
Be quiet. Sarah thought, nearing the opened doorway.
She took a deep breath, then swallowed the fear that clogged her throat. Her pulse raced, heart hammering her chest without pause.
Sarah stayed close to the wall and crept along the sheetrock to the jamb. Her nerves bound tight from being hunted.
A lull of silence filled the hall except for the whistling of the wind exploiting any narrow cracks within the building.
Her shoulder pressed to the jamb as she rolled toward the corridor. She craned her neck and peered down the long, dark stretch of hallway that led back the way she came.
A figure moved within the shadows, then vanished from sight.
Sarah blinked, unable to tell if she had seen her pursuer, or if it had just been a figment of her strained imagination. She shook her head, clamped her lids shut, then looked again. Both stretches of corridor appeared to be clear.
She grabbed the jamb, holding firm as she stepped out into the hall. She gave a quick glance down the way she came while backing away. The creaking of the floor from the shadows signaled movement.
Sarah turned, then headed the opposite way, moving fast but also trying to minimize any noise. She skimmed over each office she passed, searching for another exit.
“There has to be another way out of here,” Sarah said, under her panicked breath. Her focus remained dead ahead, eyes probing for a way out.
The floor creaked behind Sarah.
The subtle sound chilled her blood. An eerie feeling of someone being close washed over her.
“Don’t move,” the familiar voice said, stern and direct. “Put your hands on the back of your head and turn–”
Another set of footfalls tromped down the hall from behind the armed man, fast and heavy.
“Bennet, where–what the–aw—”
The sharp report of gunfire rattled off from behind Sarah. The noise hammered her ears. She flinched and jumped from the flashes of orange muzzle fire.
The rounds punched the floor, then up the side of the wall to the ceiling. Fragments of the sheetrock rained down.
Sarah covered her head, then turned toward the intense strife.
Two black figures melded as one. Strained voices grew louder within the black mass. The shadowy figures slammed into the wall, creating a loud crescendo. A rifle clattered off the wooden floor. A flashlight mounted to the bottom flickered on, casting a wide gleam that blinded Sarah.
She shielded her face, bringing her hands up to block the light.
Grunts and growls filtered through panted breaths as the men duked it out. Their feet pounded the floor, hands grabbing at whatever they could on the other person’s body.
The rifle was kicked. It spun about on the floor until the light shone on the feuding men.
Sarah caught a quick glimpse of Spencer’s white ghost skull mask before he slammed into the wall, face first. His attacker hammered his kidneys, then threw a right cross at the back of his head.
Spencer side-stepped the blow.
The man’s fist crashed into the wall. A painful wail fled his mouth as he stumbled back, cradling his hand.
Sarah backed away, then turned about face. She ran down the hall, her feet punishing the wood floor beneath her.
Her eyes adjusted some to the absence of light, allowing her to gauge the general outline of the walls and dead space of the rooms she passed.
She hooked the corner and continued running down the hall. Light at the end of the corridor shone through a window, catching her attention.
A single report echoed from the way she came, then silence. Soon, the victor would come for her.
The window had a thick film of grime that coated the glass, keeping Sarah from being able to see the outside world. She grabbed the bottom of the window and pulled up.
It didn’t budge.
Sarah tried again. Her teeth gnashed, and her arms shook. The window broke loose.
The echo of boots hammering the floor rushed toward her down the corridor, giving ample incentive to get the window up.
The smell of the ocean filled her nose.
A cool breeze brushed over her flushed skin.
Sarah forced the window up until it stopped, then leaned out the opening. Her hands pressed against the windowsill. She looked down.
A dumpster sat near the base of the building, filled with black trash bags. She couldn’t spot much of anything else within the hold.
The pounding of feet grew louder. Faster. She had to get out now. She stared down at the bags below. There might be enough. No. The idea seemed outlandish. She’d likely break her leg, or neck.
The hammering of the man’s bulk against the planks of wood drew closer.
“Sarah,” Spencer said, shouting through the halls. “Don’t run from me. You won’t be safe on your own. I’m the only one who can protect you.”
Sarah peered over her shoulder, unable to see the vile, disgusting man who stalked her through the dimness of the hallway. He’d become infatuated with her after their brief date that Mandy had sat up between them.
The dull light from the darkening sky stretched far down the hall before dwindling to nothing.
She took another look out of the window, then crawled over the windowsill. It didn’t appear to be that far of a drop to the dumpster. She could make it.
The footfalls grew louder, clawing at her nerves.
Sarah dangled her legs from the window.
A single gulp of air filled her lungs.
She jumped.
The dumpster raced toward her. She hit the foul-smelling waste dead center. The bags tore open, leaking fluids on her hands and clothes.
The stench filled her nose and strangled her throat. A sticky substance clung to her hands. She swam through the discarded waste to the edge of the dumpster, then climbed over the edge.
Sarah dumped over to the ground, landing on her wobbling legs. She leaned against the side of the dumpster, gathering herself.
The burn of acid stung the back of her throat. She fought to keep what sparse particles of food that filled her stomach from erupting from her mouth. She gagged, but held firm.
Sarah pushed away from the trash bin, then glanced at the open window.
Spencer stood just beyond the opening, watching her every move. He hammered the windowsill with his fist and faded back into the ether, vanishing from Sarah’s sight.
CHAPTER FIVE
RUSSELL
Cathy removed her hand. She rotated her leg to the side to inspect the wound. “I’m fine. Just drive.”
Max poked his head between the seats, licking at her face. His ears folded back onto his head. He whined, worried about his handler. She allowed him to comfort her with his kisses.
Russell diverted his gaze from the road to her thigh. He narrowed his eyes, trying to assess the damage. “I can’t see for shit. Where the hell is the overhead light switch at?”
“Focus on driving. It doesn’t look that bad. I think it just grazed me.” Cathy leaned her head back against the headrest, then pressed her hand to the wound, covering it up. “If I keep pressure on it, it’ll be all right for now. Besides, we need to put as much distance between us and those hillbillies as we can.”
“Are you sure? It could be serious and not dressing it now could cause major problems.” Russell searched the dash, trying to locate the headlights. A rounded knob touched the tips of his fingers near the door. He pulled.