If Only She'd Loved Him

Chapter 12

Thursday 4:00 am

Megan was not feeling fine as she ploughed her way through the woods. She looked down at what she was wearing. A yellow sweater, jeans and a tee shirt. Great, just paint a target on me, and call it a night. She debated about taking her sweater off, but her shirt was cream colored, no help there. She desperately wished that she had her leather jacket, especially since it had her cell in the pocket, but Erik had taken it. She was going to have to rely solely on herself. She shivered hard. This place scared her. Going forwards looked the same as going backwards. With a little bad luck, she could lose her way early on and end up back at the gas station, where Erik could be lurking around, waiting for her. She cursed as a branch clipped her on the chin, forcing her to slow down. She began to study the area. A few leaves clung to the trees in sheer stubbornness, but most of them had passed down to the ground. It wasn't going to be easy to find cover. If she held still, she heard sounds she did not want to identify. Megan did not hold still, she ran. Her mind pumping with her footsteps.

If Erik came after her, logically, he would think she would go back to the gas station, and get the kid to call for help. Equally logical, he might think she would be afraid that he would hurt the poor guy, so she should stick to the roads and flag down a passing car. Megan paused as she considered doing that. Only one problem, and it was a big one, if she went to the road, Erik could spot her from far away. He wasn't sane. Who knew what he might do? She decided to try to hide in the cover of the trees. The night couldn't last forever, and by the time morning came around, she'd be able to see where to go. Breathing a sigh of relief at her plan, she started searching for a place to hide.

Off to her right, she spotted an enormous oak tree, roots spread out in a carpet around its trunk. To Megan, the roots looked like tentacles. She circled the tree cautiously, wary of tripping her feet. The opposite side of the tree was dying. Chunks of old wood fell from her fingers as she touched it. Kneeling down, she examined it closer. A hole just large enough for two thirds of her body formed an archway at its base. Better than nothing, she nestled herself inside the make-to chapel, trying to decide what to do next.

Her hands played with the cuff still on her wrist. Twisting the paperclip inside, she was able to loosen it just enough. A wave of relief swept over her as the handcuffs fell to the dirt. It was as if a war had been won. She was still looking with pride at the metal at her feet when the flashlight beam caught her unawares. The light flickered as it crossed over the forest floor, scattering small animals in its wake.

"Megan," hissed a voice softly, but still it carried through the night. "I know you're here. I know these woods a lot better than you do. My uncle took me hunting in them every season when I was growing up. It's just a matter of time before I find you."

She gasped, How? then she recovered her wits. The flashlight hadn't spotted her. She held very still.

"Megan," continued the voice. "You're just making me angrier and angrier. Show yourself now, and I'll forget you tried to run away. We'll laugh about this later, sweetheart. Come on out." The voice was soft, insistent, and all the time the flashlight shone through the trees.

She looked around. The voice came from behind her, but it was getting louder. Silently she cursed her sweater, hating its pale color. She was running out of choices. If she didn't move, sooner or later the flashlight would sweep over her and she'd be spotted. If she screamed to attract attention, he'd know where she was immediately. Megan tried to shrink into the tree she was hiding behind. But the voice continued, taunting her.

"Megan, I know you're here. I know the way you think. You didn't head to the road because you thought I'd cruise up and down it looking for you, and you didn't head back to the gas station because you didn't want the kid to get hurt." He stopped. The flashlight held steady, pointing about six feet from her. "But I can hear you breathing, and you were right not to go to the kid. I would have killed him. I'd do anything for you. So show yourself, sweetheart, and let's get this unpleasantness over with." Erik clicked off the flashlight and stood still.

Megan, incorrectly assuming his batteries had just gone dead, ran. Her feet crashed through the woods. Pounding rocks and dirt, she cried out as branches slapped into her face, cutting her hands as she tried to ward them off. Erik let her run, then smiled and flipped the flashlight on full force towards the noise. Her yellow sweater caught the light, and he laughed to himself as he pursued, switching the light off again. Unlike Megan, his feet were soft as he hunted her; his breath didn't pound in his lungs. Slowing down, he listened. The footsteps in front of him had stopped. Nearby, off to his left, Megan's breathing was harsh and labored. She was trying to hide behind another tree, but her sweater shone out like a ray of sun. Judging that she was nearly out of breath, he crept forwards. With all her might, Megan swung the dead tree branch in her hands, slamming it against his chest. Whoof! He fell back and she ran again.

Erik lay on the ground for a second. His hands shot the branch off of him.

"Nice try, babe, but it won't work twice."

Teeth grinding against themselves, he flipped the flashlight back, and shone it towards the sound of running feet. The light caught a beam of yellow wool. He was up and at it before she expected. But when he reached the sweater, it hung listlessly from a tree. Snarling, he yanked it off the branch and threw it to the ground.

"That's it," he growled. "I won't be nice anymore. Keep running, babe, because you won't like it when I catch you."

The sound of Megan's feet, running as fast and as far as she could, was his only answer. Turning off the flashlight, Erik again picked up the hunt. She was too out of breath to scream and he wanted to keep it that way, so he made noise as he followed her. He wanted her to know he was right behind her. So close he could see the sweat pouring down her neck, flying out of her hair. Suddenly she fell, a dry root tripping her feet. She was back up and running in a second, but he was close behind. Too close behind. Shining the flashlight against her back, he leaped, tackling her hard to the ground, knocking the wind out of her lungs. Gasping, she tried to resist, to buck him off, as he climbed on top of her. He reached for her hands, dropping his flashlight. Its light shone above the dirt casting a macabre shadow across his face. Megan flailed at the monster above her, trying to hurt him, trying to scream, but she had no breath left and as each hand tried to hit him, he caught it. Soon he held both her wrists. His eyes burned into her, searing her blind. She couldn't look at him. She didn't know him. Her chest heaved up and down as she struggled to breathe.

"I trusted you, and this is what I get for it," he snarled.

Grasp like iron on her wrists, Erik leaned backwards, letting his pack slide off his shoulders. As it landed to the ground, he rummaged in it one handed. Megan took deep breaths through her nose. Her chest calmed, but Erik felt her breathing steady. He shook his head.

"Uh-uh, love." With a flick of his wrist, the knife snapped open in his hands. Holding it at a perfect right angle, he put it at the curve of her throat.

"I swear. If you do one more thing to piss me off, I'll cut you. Nod your head, if you understand."

Beaten, breathless, she nodded her head slightly. Erik smiled in the darkness. Removing the blade from her neck, he dropped it by her side. Seeing the knife next to her, she gave one last desperate twist to her wrists, willing his grip to break. It held.

Reaching into his pack, Erik pulled out some more of the blue nylon rope. She tried to struggle but he was much stronger than she. 

"Give up?"  His voice was almost playful but now the knife licked her ear.  Staring down at Megan, he twisted the rope around her wrists.

"This may hurt, sweetheart," he said. "Shouldn't have tried to escape." Almost offhandly, he added, "how did you get those handcuffs off anyway?"

Megan said nothing. He shrugged. "I'll find out later then, babe, time's a wasting." He lifted her back up to a sitting position.

"You know what, it's almost light," he whispered into her ear, his hand pressed lightly over her mouth. "You were right. If I hadn't have found you by now, I would have given up. You would have been free." She stiffened in his arms. His lips brushed the top of her cheek. "But I did find you, babe. So I win and you lose."

With his free hand he reached into his jacket and pulled out the syringe. His thumb didn't hesitate as it flipped open the cap, she'd brought this on herself.  Not until her body went limp, did he untie her wrists. "You lose, Megan. You lose."