His wicked laugh cut short and a loud yelp took its place. Elle looked up to see the gun slip from Merrick’s fingers and bounce across the boulder. Jack teetered near the edge of the precipice, holding a large rock, dripping with Merrick’s blood.
Streams of bright red gushed from Merrick’s forehead, down the side of his face, mixing in with the blood on his shoulder. He shook his head, like shaking off a pesky bug, and then his eyes bulged, and his face burned crimson. He swung around and bore into Jack like a charging bull. Grabbing him by the neck, he lifted him off the rock.
Sam appeared out of the trees and dashed toward them. He slammed his fist into Merrick’s jaw, spinning him around. Jack tumbled to the rock, holding his throat, gasping for air.
Rubbing his chin, Merrick turned toward his attacker. His eyes narrowed and his nostrils flared, and then he threw a succession of wild punches, like a crazed boxer bent on more than just winning. A final punch landed Sam dangerously close to the edge.
There was no time to think. In a rush of adrenaline and raging fury, Elle sprinted forward, ramming hard into Merrick.
He teetered, but did not fall. “Really?” He seethed and grabbed her hair. “Y’know, that’s what I always liked about you—the spunk. Seems the apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree.” He pulled her close to his lips, the familiar stench of his skin choking her. “That’s what I like about the kid, too. She’ll be perfect for me.”
The horror of that affirmation struck her—like a steel rod piercing her gut. Without thinking, she sank her teeth into his chin, and like a snapping turtle, refused to release.
His warm blood sickened her, but knowing she had brought him pain, far outweighed what she knew would come next. They stumbled closer to the edge of the cliff.
Whatever happened to her, she didn’t care anymore. Merrick was not going to harm Sally. Not now. Not ever. She was taking him with her. She glared at him, teeth in chin, daring him to throw her over. She wrapped her legs around one of his legs and locked them tight.
He staggered, trying to pull her off, only causing her to bite harder. Punching at her, she withstood his blows. This was how it was going to end. They would meet their doom together.
Just then, Jack jumped on Merrick from behind, pulling his head back by his hair.
Sam wrapped his arms around his wife. “Let go, Elle.” His voice calmed her, and she relented, falling back with him to the hard boulder. Sam rolled her over, away from the edge. The desperate look in his eyes frightened her. Without words, she understood their meaning. For Sally.
Elle jumped up. Her fists balled up to her sides. “Where’s my daughter?”
Merrick punched at Jack and then grabbed him, swinging him around to the edge.
Elle gasped and Sam stopped his forward lunge.
Merrick chortled. “Your daughter?”
Jack’s legs dangled over the side. He fought to get footing.
“Please, Merrick, please don’t drop him.” Elle dropped to her knees. “Please.”
Merrick grunted. “Oh, I fully intend to do just that.” He pushed his bloody chin toward Sam. “And then I’ll take care of him.” His eyes fell upon her. “And then—what?” Stopping in midsentence, he snapped his head back to Jack. His eyes widened.
Jack had firm footing against the side of the rocky ledge, and he had grabbed Merrick’s arms. With a backward thrust, he pulled him over the edge. In seconds, they both were gone.
Thirty-Five
Sally
Elle screamed. She fell to her knees at the edge of the cliff. She grasped the rocky ledge. Her chest heaved in and out. “Jack!”
From over the ledge, a voice rose. “Um, some help here?” Jack swung back and forth, the rappelling rope wrapped around his leg. Merrick lay sprawled across the rocks far below.
Farther down the creek, Elle’s parents, Lucy and Jack Sr., ran toward the end of the rope. Elle’s father grabbed the rope and steadied it, while her brother placed his feet firm against the rock, attached his harness, and worked his way down.
Jack pointed up at Elle. It was easy to get the gist of what he was saying. Her parents looked up. When they caught sight of her, her mother fell into her father. Awestruck and confused, their expressions quickly turned to surprise and glee. They jumped up and down, clinging to each other.
Sam pulled her back from the edge of the cliff. “It’s over, Elle.”
She turned into him and clutched the fabric of his shirt, trembling with fear. Her breathing came out raspy and rushed. Pounding her fist into his chest, she cried, “No, it’s not.” She gestured to a clump of hair laying on the rocky ledge where Merrick had dropped it. “Sally,” she wailed. “He got her!”
“No, Elle,” Sam said, shaking his head. “She’s at the farm.” He pointed to the hair and appeared to try to hide his own fears.
Elle grabbed it and held it up to his face. “No, Sam, this is her hair. And Merrick said she was his now!”
Agent Thompson burst from the path. Holding a gun up, he swung it from side to side. Seeing them alone, he lowered his gun. “I thought I heard a scuffle.”
Sam pointed over the cliff. “He’s down there.”
The agent hurried to the cliff. He looked over it and grimaced. Turning to them, he glanced around. “Where’s your daughter? She came looking for you.”
Elle thrust the patch of blonde hair toward him. “Merrick had her—somewhere!”
Sam pointed to the agent’s radio. “Call the farm. Maybe she escaped and is already back there.”
Thompson stepped aside. When he came back, he shook his head. “No sign of her.”
Elle took off at a run in the direction of the farm with Sam beside her.
John moved cautiously down the path, keeping watch in front and behind.
