She put one foot in front of the other.
Slowly, staying very, very quiet.
She was getting away!
The heavy burden crushing her soul lightened.
Her heart raced with excitement, then slowed again.
Even if she did manage to evade the searchers today, the knee-buckling truth was she didn’t know what she had or hadn’t done.
She stuck her chin up.
She wouldn’t be locked up and drugged, not again. No one deserved to have to live like that. If she’d truly done what the letter said, maybe she should reconsider and end it all. Spare her parents the humiliation of a trial, the pain of visiting her in prison or in a mental institution. She didn’t want to watch them try to pretend she wasn’t a monster as their world crumbled around them.
She fell to her knees and lifted her hands in supplication.
Please don’t let it be true.
Then she heard a voice, but this one wasn’t carried to her on the wind. This was a voice in her head. A voice made of memory instead of sound. Dr. Duncan’s reassuring words, telling her she wasn’t crazy: Your confusion is a combination of post-traumatic stress, survivor’s guilt, and too many tranquilizers. Let’s give you a trial off medication, give your head a chance to clear. I want you to believe in yourself, to learn to trust your own eyes and ears. You haven’t done anything wrong. I know you, Laura. You’re a good person.
Dr. Duncan was smart. And he believed in Laura. Even Dr. Webber said he didn’t think she’d killed Angelina—though he invariably reminded her he couldn’t be absolutely certain. Dr. Webber gave her the benefit of reasonable doubt. And she could cling to reasonable doubt in this circumstance. Her monster could’ve forced her to write that note when he brought her to the cabin and planted the locks of hair.
Reasonable doubt.
It wasn’t much, but it would have to do for now.
Scanning the area around her, she realized she was still alone. She rose to her feet and brushed the dirt and ice from her knees. She would not take her own life—she’d promised Dr. Duncan, and more importantly, just hours ago, she’d promised herself. Whatever the truth was, sooner or later she was going to have to face it, because there was a monster in her life.
It was real, and it had to be stopped, no matter who or what it turned out to be.
Suddenly, from behind, she heard the sound of footfalls coming straight for her.
Both dread and hope shot through her.
Two emotions. One result: paralysis.
She had no idea what to do next. She felt better than before her nap, yes, but not like she could outrun an able-bodied person. Finally, blessed instinct kicked in, and she sank behind a rock. Hiding, holding her breath, waiting for the footsteps to catch up to her. She barely had time to find a good spyhole when a slender young woman appeared.
Panting.
Laura covered her mouth with her hand, trying to muffle the sound of her own heavy breathing. The woman with wild, dark tresses stood with her hands on her knees not more than a few feet away. Her face was red from exertion, and her blue eyes glowed with energy. Those eyes reminded Laura of Angelina, and of herself, before her own eyes had turned from ocean blue to the dull slate-gray of impending doom. She hadn’t known that hopelessness could physically change a person, but it had indeed changed her.
Maybe because the woman resembled Angelina, Laura felt drawn to her by an undeniable, tangible, pull. It was as if the air up here had magnetized her. It took all Laura’s will not to leap out from her hiding place and surrender.
Instead, she decided to follow her.
Chapter 18
Thursday, October 24
6:00 P.M.
Eagles Nest Wilderness
Colorado
With a broad motion, Caitlin swept the light back and forth in front of her, carefully following the trail of crushed vegetation that appeared beyond the boot print she’d found. Because the grasses had not yet rebounded, she guessed the trail was fresh. She was definitely onto something and needed to go slow. The time to hurry had passed.
A scrape coming from behind a large boulder made her stop short, and her ears prick, but then a squirrel scampered over the top of the rock. A shriek of wind, then all was quiet once more. Straightening, she turned full circle, straining her eyes to catch a glimpse of Pandy or Spense. But there was none. Hadn’t either of them heard her calling out?
She clicked the button on her radio, but it didn’t crackle to life. She turned it upside down and saw that the thin plastic battery cover had come loose, and the compartment was empty. The battery must’ve dropped out when she hit her hip on that rock, but it was too late now to go back and hunt for it. At the moment, she had more important quarry to track.
Worst-case scenario, that boot print belonged to Pandy, and Caitlin needed to find her anyway. It seemed every forward step consumed an eternity of time, as she swung her light to and fro. The crushed vegetation led toward a scree-covered slope, and she knew when the grasses ended so would her lead. Then her flashlight hit a spot of mud and more prints.