Betrayed

to her vulnerability. She felt exposed and knew she couldn't afford the luxury of lingering. Her sense of self- preservation urged her to leave the car as soon as possible.

Climbing down from the vehicle, Brook winced as her feet touched the ground. Still, the ‘shoes’ were a vast improvement over walking barefoot. She gritted her teeth against the pain, anxious to get moving. It was imperative that she find help. She looked in all directions, trying to pierce the darkness. The surrounding peaks were black jagged shadows against the charcoal gray of the night sky, the moon hidden behind clouds. The road should be up, but so was the danger that Jase would find her. Knowing how easy it would be to get lost in the forest, she felt she had no choice but to make her way down the slope. She would hide until daylight and then climb to the road. Even then, she would have to be wary. They might come looking for her. But at least she knew the road led somewhere. All she had to do was survive one more night and then she could find help. But, it was so cold.

Finally, with reservations, she abandoned the car. Senses on high alert, she took in her surroundings. It was impossible to see much in the thick darkness, and she concentrated on listening. Subtle rustlings filled the night with furtive sound. Her ears also detected trickling water nearby, and she turned in that direction. Taking small steps and testing the ground before her, she gingerly descended. Using sound to guide her, Brook eventually found the stream. Careful as she was, she still scraped her bare legs on unseen branches and brambles and stubbed her toes on half-buried rocks. Reaching the bank, she fell to her knees and drank deeply from the icy water until her stomach rebelled. Twisting to the side, she vomited. Head hung, she remained on her hands and knees until her stomach quieted. Cautioning herself to take it slowly, she drank again, pausing for a few minutes after each swallow for her stomach to settle. Eventually, her thirst was sated, but her hands burned from the cold water. She clasped her palms and stuck them between her legs, holding them there for a several minutes. When they had warmed slightly, she probed the darkness, trying to choose her next course of action, but she couldn't see well enough to make an educated decision. She finally determined to follow the small rivulet as it babbled along. She'd put distance between the crash site and herself. She'd hide. Then, in the morning, she'd decide whether it was safe to return to the site and make her way to the road.

Cloud cover broke away from the moon’s face, granting her a weak illumination. She still relied heavily on the sound of the stream to guide her steps. Praying for help, she wandered away from the road and deeper into the forest.

Time stretched; moments became surreal and dreamlike. The wind had died down, but the cold still nipped at her skin like an invisible wolf. Her legs felt heavy and Brook stumbled in weariness. She sat on a downed tree to retie one of her foot coverings, leaned forward, and almost fell on her face as dizziness overcame her. Cradling her head until the episode passed, she retied the strip around her foot. It broke in her hands and she sat holding the pieces, overwhelmed by misery. She just couldn’t bring herself to take one more step on her aching and swollen feet. To move one more inch with her sore and ravaged body.

Kneeling beside the fallen tree, she felt for a place that would provide some respite from the cold. Squeezing into a slight gap near the forest floor, she nestled under the tree and pulled leaves and twigs over her body. She left her wayward ‘shoe’ flopping from her foot and curled up around her bag, holding it close to her chest as shivers racked her body. Her teeth chattered so hard against each other that they ached. She wondered how long a body could endure these temperatures with next to no clothing. Tomorrow, I will find help. Repeating these words over and over, Brook’s thoughts drifted away, and finally, she slept. Sometime during the night, clouds rolled over the moon, thrusting the landscape into blackness. A light snow began to fall.

Chapter 14

After a hurried breakfast, Lance stepped from his cabin into a frosty world of white and looked up at the sky. Metallic gray clouds hung like ghosts overhead, promising more snow. He made his way to the goat shed and released Gilbert and Belinda for their last day of freedom, at least for a while. He wondered if he should keep them penned today, but he pushed his doubts aside and got busy on his fence project.

The hours passed quickly and the snow began to fall again. He cursed the weather; he needed sunshine to activate his fence. His mood darkened and he vowed to go hunting later, if he could pick up the trail. Stupid lion in heat, he thought. She’ll attract males and before you know it, no animal in the area will be safe. Scolding himself for his procrastination on the fence project and well aware there was no way he’d complete the task today, he decided he had best put the goats in the shed early and gear up for a hunt. He couldn’t shake his uneasy feeling.

Chapter 15

Brook’s eyes opened to whiteness. The ground and trees appeared to have been sprinkled with powdered sugar. Any other time it would have been beautiful; now it was just cold and miserable. She pushed away her covering of leaves and sat up, riding out a violent spate of shivers. She had spent a miserable night fading in and out of terrifying dreams, hauled from sleep repeatedly by pain and cold. At one point, she had heard a loud snuffling close by and feared it was a bear, or worse. She had held very still, and whatever it was moved away. It was even harder to sleep after that.

Glancing down, she was shocked by the condition of her feet. They were swollen to nearly twice their normal size and the pain was intense. Already, ominous possibilities hung over her; frightening words like 'gangrene' and 'frostbite' echoed in her head. Removing her makeshift foot coverings, she noticed blood had soaked through in many places and the batting had stuck to the wounds. She gently pried away the padding, careful to save as much as possible, and inspected the soles of her feet. Covered in cuts, some superficial and some deep, they presented a chilling sight. Cradling her feet in her hands, she wept as she massaged them, trying to restore their circulation and prodding the cuts to remove debris. She worked on them until she couldn't take any more.

Using the nail file, she sawed another strip from the bottom of the shirt to replace the broken one. It seemed to take forever with her frozen fingers. She replaced the batting over her soles and tied her ‘shoes’ securely back into place. Hands shaking, she was careful to return the file to her purse.

Brook rolled to her hands and knees and her muscles screamed in protest at the movements. She hurt from top to bottom, and her head still ached. Hanging her bag over her shoulder, she slowly stood and then cried out as her feet made contact with the ground. Sinking to the forest floor, she crawled to the stream and drank greedily.

At least she had made it through the night, she told herself. Now she could go back the way she came, locate the road, and find someone to help her. She would soon be home. She would feel Clark's arms around her again. The thought fortified her and she steeled herself against the pain as she again climbed to her feet. She took a few faltering steps, testing her endurance, and then a few more before pausing to rest.

Brook stood and trembled in one spot for a moment until pressure from her bladder demanded her attention. She squatted to urinate, wincing from the pain. Voices broke the silence of the forest and Brook stood quickly, urine running unnoticed down her bare legs.

Is that help? She had begun moving toward the voices when she recognized one of them. Jase. She dropped quickly to the ground and crouched behind a tree to listen, eyes darting in every direction. Panic seized her, turning her insides to mush. How did they find me?

“Get your asses down there and see if the bitch is inside,” Jase demanded. With dawning horror, Brook realized she hadn’t traveled far at all during the night. Shaking her head, she felt disoriented. It made no sense; she was sure she had walked for hours. But, apparently she had not. She was still very near the wrecked car. Too near!

'Hurry the fuck up,' Jase bellowed from the road above. 'If she's still alive, drag her ass up here.'

Sounds of scrambling and exclamations of anger filled the air. Brook could visualize Pete and Benny following Jase’s orders. All too soon, she heard the car door being slowly opened. It groaned in protest.

“The car’s empty,” Benny shouted. “And it’s about ready to go the rest of the way down. Just a little tree