Never Die Alone

Her lungs recoiled and she shot upward, barely missing the heavy log again.

Fight, Zoe, fight!

Sputtering and coughing, she tried to expel the water in her lungs as she gasped for air.

The world spun.

She didn’t know up from down, night sky from inky black water.

Instinctively she reached forward. Her fingers collided with a narrow end of the log and she grabbed on, wildly clutching a fork in the limb. This could be her raft, her lifesaver. She hung on, letting it pull her downstream. She blinked and coughed, aware of her vulnerability in the black river. She knew it would be easier to just let go, to let the river and the night swallow her.

Don’t!

Surrender was seductive, but she couldn’t allow herself to let go now. So she hung on, clinging to the log and the hope of life, battling to keep unconsciousness at bay, all the time praying that Chloe had gotten away.

A gate? There was a gate blocking her escape? Chloe couldn’t believe it, but the beams of the headlights washed upon the obstacle.

After she’d slipped her hands from his loosely tied bonds and while he was desperate to track down Zoe, Chloe had managed to yank off her gag and take advantage of the keys he’d moronically left in the ignition.

Now there was a gate blocking her escape?

Damn! Chloe couldn’t believe her bad luck. She stood on the brakes of the van and climbed out. She had to get away. Had to! It was her only chance. And Zoe, oh, Jesus, what about Zoe? She’d had to fight the urge to stay at the river and find her twin, but Zoe, always the bolder of the two, the pla

She scrambled out of the van, leaving the driver’s door open, the interior light glowing, the damned seat belt alarm dinging. Her headlights were trained on the aluminum slats of the gate, where she fumbled with the padlocked latch. A damned padlock.

Really? He’d locked them in? Now what? Think, Chloe, think!

With all her strength she yanked on the lock.

Nothing.

Again, she threw her weight against it and again she failed. Well, of course. What lock would give way to a girl?

But maybe he had a tool in the van, a hacksaw or . . . or a key! Maybe there was a key on the ring that held the van’s ignition. She ran back to the van and thought she heard something in the trees. Twigs breaking. An animal on the prowl? Or could it be him?

No!

Leaping onto the driver’s seat, she fumbled for the keys, found that only a single key was attached to the ring. “Shit!” Quickly she searched around the front seat, the glove box, and the console, looking for another set of keys or a saw or—

A quick glance in the rearview mirror. Beyond her own image, she saw him. Huge. Naked. Covered in blood and dirt. Dark hair plastered to his head.

Hell! She didn’t think twice but pulled the driver’s door closed, slapped on the automatic locks, threw the van into Drive, and hit the gas. Wheels spun, spitting dirt and gravel. The Dodge hurtled forward and crashed into the gate. With a groan the aluminum twisted and bent, but didn’t give. Damn!

Chloe rammed the van into Reverse and, spying the man ru

Thunk!

Oh, God, she actually hit him!

Too bad.

Or not.

Her stomach revolted and she fought the urge to gag. She had to hold it together now. Throwing the gearshift lever into Drive, she punched it, hoping there was enough distance for the acceleration necessary to break through the gate. Tires whirred as the Dodge spurted forward, hitting the gate and stopping so quickly Chloe was thrown against the steering wheel. “Ooof!” She caught her breath. Had to keep moving. “Come on, come on,” she moaned through her pain, and tromped on the accelerator again.

Whining, the tires dug deep into the lane.

Thunk! That same awful sound she’d heard before when she’d run over the bastard. But the van wasn’t moving. No matter how hard she stepped on the gas. Frantic, she rammed the Dodge into Reverse again to take another run at the gate.

Thunk!

What?

Crash!

The passenger door window shattered.

Glass sprayed.

A beefy hand shot through.

Chloe screamed.

The door flew open.

The huge whack job stood in the frail light cast by an interior lamp.

Clutched in one of his massive hands was a heavy stick, most likely the branch he’d used to thump against the van.

“No!” Terrified, she scrabbled for the door lock. She had to get out. To run!

Cowering against the driver’s door, she tried to find the handle, but the evil smile that crawled over his bruised and bloodied face petrified her. He knew she couldn’t escape.

A weak, mewling sound slipped from her throat.

He yanked the key from the ignition and opened the glove box.

Her fingers found the door handle.

She pulled.

Her door gave way, but as she dove to the left to escape the van something closed over her arm. He had grabbed her with one meaty hand.

“Not so fast,” he muttered against her ear as she fought, flailing and clawing at him. She tried to wrench free, but the sound of a metal click matched the manacle he was tightening over her wrist.

Handcuffs. He’d taken them from the glove box.

Before she could react he yanked her over his lap and twisted her arms behind her. Over her own cries, she heard the horrifying click of the second cuff locking, and she knew it was over.

He would never let down his guard again.

She was as good as dead.

CHAPTER 5

After a fitful night’s sleep, Bria

Last night’s dreams still lingered with their disturbing images, but in the predawn hours she had convinced herself that her dreams were hers to own, period. It was silly to think that skeletons in the desert had any co

She glanced at the clock on her stove.

The sun wasn’t even up yet.

No one stopped by this early.

Wiping her hands, she made her way to the front door, peered through one of the sidelights, and spied Selma De

Bria

As Bria

“Selma?”

“It’s the twins,” Selma said before Bria