Hostage Negotiation Read Free Page A

as if they were being crunched beneath tires. Yes! Someone was driving a car through the woods. Had she finally found civilization? Was there a road through this horrible, cursed, endless swamp? Hurry, hurry. She couldn’t let them pass her by. This might be her only chance.
    She ran full out. She didn’t even try to be quiet anymore.
    Neither did he.
    A roar of rage erupted behind her. She whimpered again and hated herself for it.
    Don’t look. Don’t turn around.
    The car was coming up fast. Would she make it? This time she couldn’t stop herself from looking over her shoulder, to see how close he was. A choked sob escaped her. She saw the leather mask he wore through a break in the trees, the gaping hole over his mouth.
    He smiled.
    She choked on a sob of terror. A horn blared. She whirled around. The grill of a dark vehicle filled her line of vision. She screamed as it slammed into her, tossing her through the air. The boggy ground rushed up to meet her. Excruciating pain slammed through the side of her head, her hip, as she flopped end over end to land on her stomach in a tangle of arms and legs. She lay unmoving, her cheek pressed against the ground, her gaze fastened on the bushes and trees fifteen feet away.
    A door slammed. Running footsteps came toward her from the direction of the vehicle. And at the edge of the tree line, directly across from her, he stopped. Watching her. His feral smile vicious and deadly, promising retribution.
    She let out a small cry.
    “Miss. Can you hear me?” A man’s deep voice, thick with concern as he knelt beside her, his back turned to evil incarnate.
    The devil slowly drew a large, serrated knife from the holder strapped to his thigh.
    She sucked in a breath and tried to warn the stranger. But she couldn’t make her lips form any words. Blood bubbled up in her throat, choking her. Can’t breathe. Can’t. Breathe.
    The stranger kneeling beside her, ever so carefully, tilted her head. Her airway cleared. She coughed and tried again to warn him.
    Run! She tried to tell him. He’ll kill you! She tried to raise her hand, to wave toward the devil. But she didn’t seem to have control over her body anymore. Everything was going numb. And cold, so cold.
    Satan took a step toward the stranger, knife raised.
    “My name is Zack Scott.” Her would-be rescuer leaned down into her field of vision, his handsome face lined with worry. He scooted a bunched-up cloth of some kind beneath her head. “I’m the chief of police of Mystic Glades. Just hold on. I’ve got you.”
    The devil paused.
    “Turn around.” She forced the words past her bruised lips, but they came out a gurgle.
    “Don’t try to talk. Lie as still as you can. Don’t move.”
    A rumbling noise echoed through the trees. Another car? Brakes squealed. A door slammed. Footsteps pounded.
    The devil jerked back beside a tree, a shadow amongst shadows.
    “What the...?” Another man’s voice. Dirt sliding as he dropped to his knees beside Zack. “What happened? Who is she?”
    “She ran out in front of my truck. Try your phone, Cole. We might be far enough from Mystic Glades to have cell service.”
    Turn around, Zack. Look behind you, Cole. Her fingers curled helplessly into the dirt as she stared at Satan. Why couldn’t she make herself form the words to warn them? Her throat was so tight. Everything hurt.
    Zack’s warm fingers pressed against her neck. “Her pulse is weak.” He glanced toward Cole then nodded and looked at her again. “The call went through. Help is on the way. You’re going to be okay. Everything’s going to be okay. Just, please, hold on.”
    The devil’s eyes flashed.
    She whimpered and surrendered to the darkness.

Chapter Three
    Zack paced the hospital waiting room.
    “Will you stop already?” Cole shifted in his chair. “You’re making everyone around us dizzy. And you’re making me want to slug you. Sit down.”
    Zack was surprised to realize that most of the dozen or so people