Read Online Blind Trust by Terri Blackstock - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Terri Blackstock
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cracking underfoot. A branch scraped Sherry’s arm, drawing blood, but she tried to ignore it. Her eyes darted from left to right, straining for some idea of an escape route. As if by miracle, she spotted a dry spring that cut a path of earth through the trees. She turned around and held a branch up for Madeline to duck under.
“Look, there’s a clearing between those trees. Looks like a spring might have been here once. We could jump down in it and run as fast as we can that way until we reach the edge of the woods. Then we’re safe.”
Madeline eyed the beveled, leaf-filled ditch and brought troubled eyes back to Sherry.
“Madeline, are you with me or not? We have to go now.”
“Okay,” the woman finally agreed, though every nuance of her expression indicated fierce doubt. “Take off. I’m right behind you.”
Sherry skidded down the incline to the dry spring and started to run as fast as her legs would carry her. Two years of jogging might have put her in shape for this sort of thing, she thought as she leapt over rocks and roots. But her sparse diet for the past two days, her sleepless night, and the strain that had been tearing at her muscles all day put her at a grave disadvantage.
Somewhere in the distance behind them, she heard her name being called in anger, and forced her legs to move faster. She heard Madeline stumble and fall, then begin to run again.
The sound of distant car engines caught her attention, telling her that the highway was not far away. She strained her ears and listened for the direction, but Clint’s voice came threateningly behind her.
“Stop it, Sherry! You’re going to get yourself killed!”
“This way,” she whispered to Madeline. “I can hear the highway.”
They scurried up the side of the ditch and tore out through the thick wall of trees, vaulting in the direction of the road sounds that seemed even closer. But progress was slow, for nature prohibited them from getting through without stopping every few minutes to make passage.
“Over there!” she heard Clint yell to Sam, too close behind them.
Sherry hurled her body through the brush, ignoring the way thorns clung to her clothes and snagged her skin. She came upon a drop-off and told Madeline to jump.
“But it’s an eight-foot fall, at least,” Madeline whispered.
Sherry ignored her and jumped, landing in a springing position that tested every muscle in her body. Madeline followed, but her landing was not as graceful. She fell, sprawled, her knee twisted beneath her. She yelled.
“Can you walk?” Sherry asked frantically. “Can you get up?”
Madeline pulled herself up and tried to take a step, but her knee gave way.
The sound of cracking branches, running feet, and mumbled expletives reminded them of their urgency. “Go ahead, Sherry,” Madeline whispered. “You’re almost to the highway. I’ll be all right.”
Sherry wrapped her arm around Madeline’s waist and tried to help her. “No. I’m not going without you.”
“For heaven’s sake,” Madeline pressed. “It won’t do any good for us both to get caught. At least you can go somewhere and call the police.”
The sound of the two running men grew closer, and Sherry hesitated.
“Sherry, use your head! Get out of here!”
She looked above her and saw Sam come into view. “There they are!” he shouted.
“Run, Sherry!” Madeline ordered.
Torn, Sherry saw Clint running toward the drop-off as if to jump, and she turned and bolted into the woods, running as fast as she could go. The highway sounded within feet of her. Perhaps she’d make it. But behind her she heard Madeline yelling and sobbing, and Clint’s heavy footsteps gaining on her.
Twenty yards ahead she saw the trees thinning, heard the sound of an eighteen-wheeler rolling by, and felt the first bit of relief she’d known in hours. But suddenly Clint was behind her, his footsteps pounding the earth. A long arm reached out to grab her.
A scream tore from her
“Look, there’s a clearing between those trees. Looks like a spring might have been here once. We could jump down in it and run as fast as we can that way until we reach the edge of the woods. Then we’re safe.”
Madeline eyed the beveled, leaf-filled ditch and brought troubled eyes back to Sherry.
“Madeline, are you with me or not? We have to go now.”
“Okay,” the woman finally agreed, though every nuance of her expression indicated fierce doubt. “Take off. I’m right behind you.”
Sherry skidded down the incline to the dry spring and started to run as fast as her legs would carry her. Two years of jogging might have put her in shape for this sort of thing, she thought as she leapt over rocks and roots. But her sparse diet for the past two days, her sleepless night, and the strain that had been tearing at her muscles all day put her at a grave disadvantage.
Somewhere in the distance behind them, she heard her name being called in anger, and forced her legs to move faster. She heard Madeline stumble and fall, then begin to run again.
The sound of distant car engines caught her attention, telling her that the highway was not far away. She strained her ears and listened for the direction, but Clint’s voice came threateningly behind her.
“Stop it, Sherry! You’re going to get yourself killed!”
“This way,” she whispered to Madeline. “I can hear the highway.”
They scurried up the side of the ditch and tore out through the thick wall of trees, vaulting in the direction of the road sounds that seemed even closer. But progress was slow, for nature prohibited them from getting through without stopping every few minutes to make passage.
“Over there!” she heard Clint yell to Sam, too close behind them.
Sherry hurled her body through the brush, ignoring the way thorns clung to her clothes and snagged her skin. She came upon a drop-off and told Madeline to jump.
“But it’s an eight-foot fall, at least,” Madeline whispered.
Sherry ignored her and jumped, landing in a springing position that tested every muscle in her body. Madeline followed, but her landing was not as graceful. She fell, sprawled, her knee twisted beneath her. She yelled.
“Can you walk?” Sherry asked frantically. “Can you get up?”
Madeline pulled herself up and tried to take a step, but her knee gave way.
The sound of cracking branches, running feet, and mumbled expletives reminded them of their urgency. “Go ahead, Sherry,” Madeline whispered. “You’re almost to the highway. I’ll be all right.”
Sherry wrapped her arm around Madeline’s waist and tried to help her. “No. I’m not going without you.”
“For heaven’s sake,” Madeline pressed. “It won’t do any good for us both to get caught. At least you can go somewhere and call the police.”
The sound of the two running men grew closer, and Sherry hesitated.
“Sherry, use your head! Get out of here!”
She looked above her and saw Sam come into view. “There they are!” he shouted.
“Run, Sherry!” Madeline ordered.
Torn, Sherry saw Clint running toward the drop-off as if to jump, and she turned and bolted into the woods, running as fast as she could go. The highway sounded within feet of her. Perhaps she’d make it. But behind her she heard Madeline yelling and sobbing, and Clint’s heavy footsteps gaining on her.
Twenty yards ahead she saw the trees thinning, heard the sound of an eighteen-wheeler rolling by, and felt the first bit of relief she’d known in hours. But suddenly Clint was behind her, his footsteps pounding the earth. A long arm reached out to grab her.
A scream tore from her
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