Read Online The Killing Hour by Lisa Gardner - Free Book Online Page B

the thick green grass.
    “Long day?” Southern Boy asked, making no effort to get up.
    “Long life,” Kimberly replied flatly, then promptly wished she hadn’t.
    Super Cop didn’t say anything more, though. He tucked his hands beneath his head and appeared to be studying the sky. Kimberly followed his gaze and for the first time noticed the clear night sky, the sea of tiny, crystal stars. It was a beautiful night, really. Other girls her age probably went for walks during nights like this. Held hands with their boyfriends. Giggled when the guy tried to steal a kiss.
    Kimberly couldn’t even imagine that sort of life. All she’d ever wanted was this.
    She turned her head toward her companion, who seemed content with the silence. Upon closer inspection, he was a big guy. Not as big as some of the ex-Marines in her class, but he was over six feet tall and obviously very active. Dark hair, bronzed skin, very fit. She’d done good to take him out. She was proud of herself.
    “You scared the shit out of me,” she said at last.
    “That was uncalled-for,” he agreed.
    “You shouldn’t skulk around at night.”
    “Damn straight.”
    “How long have you been in the program?”
    “Arrived in June. You?”
    “Week nine. Seven to go.”
    “You’ll do fine,” he said.
    “How do you know?”
    “You outran me, didn’t you? And trust me, honey, most of the beautiful women I’ve chased haven’t gotten away.”
    “You are so full of shit!” she told him crossly.
    He just laughed again. The sound was deep and rumbly, like a jungle cat’s purr. She decided she didn’t like Special Agent McCormack very much. She should move, get away from him. Her body hurt too much. She went back to gazing at the stars.
    “It’s hot out,” she said.
    “Yes, ma’am.”
    “You said you didn’t like the heat.”
    “Yes, ma’am.” He waited a heartbeat, then turned his head. “Heat kills,” he said, and it took her another moment to realize that he was finally serious.
             
    Tree branches scratched at her face. Shrubs grabbed her ankles, while the tall grass tangled around her sandals and tried to pull her down. Tina pressed forward, panting hard, heart in her throat, as she careened from tree to tree and tried frantically to get one foot in front of the other.
    He wasn’t running behind her. She heard no stampede of footsteps or angry commands to halt. He was quieter than that. Stealthier. And that frightened her far more.
    Where was she going? She didn’t know. Why was he after her? She was too afraid to find out. What had happened to Betsy? The thought filled her with pain.
    And the air was hot, searing her throat. And the air was wet, burning her lungs. And it was late, and she’d run away from the road, instinctively heading downhill, and now she realized her mistake. There would be no savior for her down in these deep dark shadows. There would be no safety.
    Maybe if she could get far enough ahead. She was fit. She could find a tree, climb high above his head. She could find a ravine, duck low and curl up so small and tight he’d never see her. She could find a vine, and soar away like Tarzan in the animated Disney movie. She would like to be in a movie now. She would like to be anywhere but here.
    The log came out of nowhere. A dead tree probably felled by lightning decades ago. She connected first with her shin, couldn’t bite back her sharp cry of pain, and went toppling down the other side. Her palms scraped savagely across a thorny shrub. Then her shoulder hit the rock-hard ground and her breath was knocked from her body.
    The faint crackle of twigs behind her. Calm. Controlled. Contained.
    Is this how death comes? Slowly walking through the woods?
    Tina’s shin throbbed. Her lungs refused to inhale. She staggered to her feet anyway and tried one more step.
    A faint whistle through the dark. A short stabbing pain. She looked down and spotted the feathery dart now protruding from her left thigh.