Yeah! Fresh blood. He sampled it.
Thick, rich, coppery arterial blood.
He had him. Well, almost. The man had managed to walk away, but he couldn’t have gone far.
Using his hand to follow the moist trail of blood, Werner duck-walked up the dark beach toward the bluff, the gun poised in front of him. When he felt the wind bounce off the rock face, he knew he was close, even though he saw nothing in front of him but black space.
Suddenly, a man’s scream filled the night air. The shriek was so deep, so primal, that it stunned him momentarily. A body flew into him, knocking him backward. Excruciating pain sent yellow light flashing across his vision. A rock-hard object struck his temple almost knocking him out. It pummeled his skull again and again, nauseating him.
Werner squeezed off a shot, but it went wild. Anger surged through his veins like poison. Nobody drops Werner. Nobody!
With a mighty yell he heaved himself up off the sand, threw both arms around his attacker, and pitched the man onto his back. Werner landed on top of him, his left hand around a slippery neck, his right pushing the barrel of the gun into the hollow of the attacker’s cheek. The scent of warm, fresh blood wafted up his nostrils.
Johnson.
The meat cutter laughed. “So, you’ve got balls, after all. A little late, don’t you think?” Werner sniffed the air. “You’re dying. I can smell it.” He laughed again, his thumb pressing down on Dan’s windpipe. “But I can prevent that. Ha! I can make it so you die of asphyxiation instead. How does that sound? It would give me great pleasure to render assistance as you exit this world. I’ll witness your transition to the underworld. I’m sure they’re waiting down there with bated breath. Or is it bad breath?”
Dan died before Werner had the opportunity to take his life. As his final breath expelled from his collapsing lungs, Werner reached excitedly for his flashlight. Sensing the woman was long gone, and he was in no danger from her gun, he flicked on the flashlight and signaled upward to Jerry Lee Ray not to shoot.
Werner wanted a peek at his handiwork. Ah, yes. Very good. How he loved his work. He slid off Dan. Enough! There was more work to do. He had to nail the Johnson woman before she got away. He owed her one. “Hmm-m,” he mumbled, rubbing the scar on his chin. “Maybe two.” She was a livewire, that one, a nice little challenge.
He stood and waved his light at Jerry Lee Ray, this time signaling his intention to continue toward the cape. Then he turned the light down the beach, in search of the Johnson woman. Seeing nothing, he shuffled down the beach, toward the compact sand, where he could move more quickly. As soon as his boots bit into it, he started to jog and with the aid of his light, made fair time.
Speed was of the essence if he was to catch her, as she had a considerable lead. If he remembered correctly, the only place along the bluff where she could climb back up was near the Cape Peril lighthouse. That meant she was trapped on the beach, as long as he caught up to her in time.
The cold wet wind, heavy with spray from the huge rollers, saturated his hair and clothing, drained off his body heat, and bit into his skin. The waves seemed to be running continuously higher up the beach, sending their icy wash over his boots, soaking his feet, and slowing him down. His wool socks were wet and his feet sloshed inside his leather boots. “Son-of-a-bitch,” he cursed, moving higher up the beach. He needed to pick up speed.
Why was it that the elements always conspired against him? No matter what the assignment, he was in constant conflict with nature. It was the story of his life!
A powerful gust of wind tore open his jacket and whipped salt into his eyes. He rubbed them, trying to clear his vision. At that moment the moon broke through an opening in the clouds, exposing the beach.
A movement caught his eye a hundred yards ahead. Something darted into the shadows and he swung his flashlight in that direction, triumphant that he had nearly caught up to the woman. Searching the ridge, he saw no sign of Jerry Lee Ray. Good, there was time for a little pleasure. Heat surged to his loins. He licked his lips and smiled. He could taste her already.
Amy picked her way along the rocks, her eyes moving back and forth between the Cape Peril’s flashing light and the light that hunted her, from behind. Another few hundred feet and she’d reach the old rope ladder leading up to the lighthouse. Then, it would be a race for the SUV. She cursed herself again for leaving her iPhone behind. Dan needed help. So did she for that matter.
The trip down the beach was taking too long.
She broke into a run, her feet sinking into the sand, her arms outstretched in the dark, to prevent her from running headlong into the uneven rock face of the bluff. The clouds parted and suddenly she was exposed and vulnerable in the moonlight. A beam of light swung across her. Feeling like a duck in a shooting gallery, Amy bolted.
The balls of her feet sinking into the sand, legs pumping, she glanced back. He was coming up fast from behind and was gaining on her. She wouldn’t make it to the rope ladder unless she picked up a lot of speed.
She raced down the beach onto the hard-packed sand so she could run faster. A bullet hit the sand beside her. She sprinted, lungs heaving, heart pounding, her eyes fixed on the spot where the ladder should be. Glancing back again, she heard her pursuer closing in, not thirty feet behind. He fired another shot.
Looking toward the ocean, she wondered if she could escape through the waves. White-capped rollers towered steeply, then crashed ferociously onto the beach. No chance. No one could swim through that. Not even her.
Her muscles burned, her breaths were dry spasms, and the ladder was still about twenty feet away, barely visible in the moonlight.
A loud, haunting laugh whirled around her, and a powerful hand gripped her arm, flinging her around.
It was him! The meat cutter!
She bounced off him, her eyes locking onto the ugly diagonal scar. She grabbed the small gun out of her pocket and tried to shoot. Oh, no, the safety. She struck his face with the barrel as hard as she could. In the moonlight she saw feral anger flash across his eyes.
“Bitch!” He swung back, his hand snapping her head around, knocking her to the ground. His boot flew at her ribcage. She saw it coming and dove for the leg, wrapping both arms around it. She held on tight. He stumbled backward in surprise. His balance lost, he came crashing down beside her. Amy jumped to her feet and started to run. His hand snaked out and grabbed her ankle, yanking her down hard onto the beach. The gun went flying.
He leapt on top of her. Amy rolled sideways, her hands flying at his face, her nails gouging his eyes.
“Rotten bitch,” he shouted, dropping his gun and grabbing her arms. Amy fought like she’d never fought in her life, arms, legs, feet, and hands flying, punching, and kicking. Her gun was gone. So was his.
They rolled into the icy water. Cold seawater washed over them, dragging them back toward the open sea. If it caught them, they’d be sucked out by the undertow. She looked toward the ladder. If she could get free of him for just one second, she might have a chance.
His huge head rose above her face. Amy went for his eyes, but he moved and her nails dug into the soft pockets of flesh beneath his eyes. He howled, his hands flying to his face.
Leaping from his grasp, she stumbled up the beach fighting the suction of sand and water, trying to outrun the giant roller that was rising up behind her. Her shoes bit into the sand and with a Herculean effort, she sprinted for the ladder.
Panting and shouting, he clawed at her jacket, his fingers catching a fold. He pulled, but Amy kept going.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw something huge and dark looming toward them from the sea and a new fear gripped her as she realized what it was.
Oh, no! Not again. Not now.
A curling wall of black water was speeding toward the beach, sucking up everything in front of it. Suddenly the sand receded beneath her feet and she stumbled.
“Bitch, I’ll get you.” Werner took advantage of the slip and grabbed for her. Anticipating him, Amy pulled her shoulders back, allowing him full grip of her jacket. With an eye on the wave that loomed toward them, she pulled herself free of the jacket and raced for the bluff.
The motion slowed him. He ended up with her empty jacket. With an angry shout, he threw it in the air and stumbled after her. The watery sand beneath his feet was traveling seaward so fast, it pulled his feet from under him. Cursing loudly, he staggered forward once more, oblivious to the danger that was almost upon him.
Amy grabbed for the rope ladder and pulled herself up, her hands and feet working the rotting rope, fighting for height. Suddenly the ladder swung out from the wall, lifting her feet off the rungs. She dangled, legs clawing the air.
Looking down, she saw the big man’s face grinning up at her as he flung the rope ladder into the air, in an attempt to dislodge her.
Amy’s hands slid down the rope, her feet flailed. She looked seaward. A scream escaped her lips as the huge wall of water rolled toward them.
Werner saw it, latched onto the ropes, and planted his feet onto the first rung.
The ladder stilled suddenly. Amy put one hand over the other, her feet flying up the rope. She gained five feet, ten, then fifteen, the rope burning through her skin. Her eyes registered the final seconds as her body fought for height.
Werner’s eyes widened in horror.
Huge, curling, and ugly, the Sneaker Wave exploded against the bluff, impaling him on the rocks, pulverizing bone and muscle.
It struck with so much force that the water climbed the bank, riding up to Amy’s chest, slamming her against the bluff. She wrapped her arms and legs around the ropes and held on. The back surge came, dragging her down the ropes. Her hands, arms, and legs slid along the braid as the sea retreated. Amy held on, her hands bleeding, her body shaking violently with the effort.
Then it was over. She collapsed against the bluff face, her arms and hands raw, salt water biting her open wounds, blood seeping from her facial cuts. Finally, she looked down.
The wet sand sparkled in the moonlight. There was no sign of the human being that had hunted her, nor the Sneaker Wave that had crushed him against the rock face and carried him out to sea.
Her legs felt like water as she wobbled up the old ladder to the mossy ground above. She knew she had been too long getting help for Dan and as she climbed onto the bank beneath the light station, she was overcome with grief. It snuck up on her, catching her unaware. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she staggered unsteadily along the cracked concrete foundation of the lighthouse.
Rounding the corner, she walked into the short steel barrel of a shotgun. A tall, emaciated man, spat twice before he spoke. “I watched what you did. You planned the whole escapade to sucker Werner. No loss though,” he growled, “He was a real prick. Well, it’s your turn now, Missy,” he said poking the barrel of the gun hard into her ribs. “Turn around.”
Amy turned, her mind racing. She needed an escape route fast.
“Now, walk your fancy ass over to the edge. Keep going. That’s it. You’re almost there. Now look down and tell me what you see."
Amy swallowed hard. If she jumped, she’d probably end up a quadriplegic, but she
might
live. If she didn’t jump she would die.
“I said, what do you see!”
Amy flinched. “The beach.”
“Well now you’re going to see stars—”
Amy sunk into her knees preparing for the jump. There was a deafening explosion and the thought that tore through her mind was that she was too late. But no shell struck her. Shaking, she turned around.
Jerry Lee Ray was sprawled face down on the ground, his shotgun still clutched in his right hand. Twenty feet behind him, was a man with a gun.
At first Amy thought it was a trick, but the husky voice changed her mind.
“I’d give my eye teeth for one of those hugs of yours.”
“Gramps!” He was leaning on the open truck door, the smoking gun still in his hand. She limped over and threw her arms around his bony shoulders. Pressing her cheek firmly against his stubby whiskers, she whispered. “You don’t have any eye teeth.”
He slid the gun behind the truck seat and sat down hard on the truck seat. “Don’t have any dentures either. Left them in my living room with the bugger who tried to give me a barbecue.”
Amy pulled back and looked at him. “I kept wondering if you might have made it out.” She squeezed him tight and said into his ear, “I’m so glad, Gramps, so glad.”
He pointed to the body on the ground. “Well, Girl, someone had to send that son of a bitch to his maker.”
Amy looked back. Gramps was right.
He caught her hand. “Come on now, let’s get over to the house. We’re targets out here.”
Amy shivered in her wet clothes. He was right again. They were standing targets. But she couldn’t go with him. She had to go back to Dan. “Do you have a cell?”
“You know I don’t use those things”
“Is that your van?”
“Temporarily.”
“Can you go over to my house and call an ambulance? Dan’s been shot. He’s down on the beach. I need to get back down there.”
“That’s not a good idea, Amy. Too dangerous. Wait for the cops.”
“I can’t wait, Gramps. He’s dying and I’m not leaving him down there alone.”
Gramps took off his warm fleece-lined jacket and put it over her shoulders. “You’re getting too damned headstrong, Girl. Here. Put this on.” He reached for his pistol and handed it to her. “And take this.”
She pushed it away. “There’s no one down there but Dan. You keep it. Who knows what could happen next.”
Working her way back down the rope ladder, Amy landed on the beach and ran to the outcropping where she’d left Dan, her penlight a frail beam of light leading the way.
He wasn’t there.
She widened the search area, wondering if he’d moved to a safer place. Nothing. She cried out, “Dan, where are you? Dan!” The only sound was crashing waves. She searched up and down the beach. Exhausted, she slumped down on a damp log and stared at the huge rollers marching into the bay. The rogue wave that had saved her life and pummeled her lethal attacker, had taken Dan to his final resting place. She dropped her head in her hands and cried for him.