A Fateful Decision
Laine Wheeler threw an arm across her dog’s chest and stood on the brakes as the rockslide tumbled quickly toward her. As the Range Rover shook she discerned arms and legs flailing, and realized with alarm that it wasn’t a bunch of boulders rolling down the steep embankment. It was a person. The front end of the SUV dipped as it shuddered violently to a stop, and the individual landed in a crumpled heap not six feet from her front bumper.
Heart
knocking against her breastbone, she exhaled sharply, then looked at Maverick,
her half-dog, half-wolf sidekick who seemed as startled as she. Maverick woofed
softly and put a paw on her arm. Laine
took a deep breath, grabbed a handful of thick, gray and white fur, and turned
her gaze forward.
The person
hadn’t moved. She glanced first left
then right toward the tree line and wondered if there were more people where
this one had come from. Both sides of
the two lane highway were edged with ten foot wide shoulders hemmed in with 20
foot high embankments topped with thick pine and evergreen. When no other bodies came somersaulting down
the embankment, she turned her eyes back to the unknown acrobat.
What the
hell was going on? Laine blinked as her
pulse ratcheted up a couple of uncomfortable notches. There were no lakes or rivers nearby, and the
closest campsite was more than 20 miles away, so what was this person doing out
here, literally, in the middle of nowhere?
Staring at the rumpled figure she waited, but he, or she, didn’t
move. Was this a carjacking? An attempted kidnapping?
She gulped
and frowned. “Don’t be ridiculous,
Laine.” She glanced at the dog, whose
wise, golden eyes were fixed on her.
“What do you think, Maverick? Is
this a carjacking . . . in the middle of nowhere? And who’d want to kidnap me? My former in-laws?” A short, sharp laugh escaped her. “No, they’re happy enough I left
Chicago.” Her gaze was drawn back to the
person in the road. “Maybe they want you, Mav.” The dog whimpered.
Her brain
was working at warp speed, trying to wrap itself around what she’d just
witnessed. No matter which idea she
entertained, none was a reasonable explanation for the body lying in the road,
none that boded any good anyway. She
felt the adrenaline hit her bloodstream and took several deep breaths, then
opened the door and stepped out.
“Stay
there,” she said to the dog. Maverick
woofed again and did as he was told.
Laine took a
step then stopped. What was she
doing? The side of a deserted highway
was no place to be a hero. She looked at
the prone figure for a moment, debating with herself. A low, pained moan escaped the person, and
the mournful, gravelly sound spurred her.
Laine squared her shoulders.
Right place or not, she wasn’t the type to run, and she knew there was
no way she was going to just leave an injured person in the middle of the road. She ran around the front of the Rover, looked
down at the person for a split second then knelt at their side. It was a man dressed in camouflage pants and
a khaki shirt, and from the stained, disheveled state of his clothes it looked
like he’d been rolling in the dirt well before his tumble down the
embankment. He lay on his side with his
back to her, he wasn’t moving, and the silence hung heavy. She waited a few moments, and as each second
ticked off her alarm grew. Laine
hesitated then pressed two fingers into his neck to check for a pulse. It was weak and thready but it was there, and
she sighed in relief. Grasping his
shoulder, she rolled him onto his back.
"Please." His grip tightened slightly. "Get the bag and get out of here." He spoke in a hoarse whisper. "They're not far behind me."
2 comments:
I have always wondered how you can have an accidental affair. I guess I will need to read the book to find out.
debby236 at gmail dot com
Haha! Well, it's not a "how-to" book, but if Jack Vaughn dropped in MY lap, I think I'd have to find a way to accidentally take advantage of that.
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