Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 120230 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 601(@200wpm)___ 481(@250wpm)___ 401(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 120230 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 601(@200wpm)___ 481(@250wpm)___ 401(@300wpm)
Deciding that if worst came to worst, I could always retrace my steps by following the deep grooves in the snow—the rain wouldn’t wash those away that fast—I drove forward at a snail’s pace, my abdominal muscles held so tightly that it hurt. But the reflection of light grew brighter and larger, until I was parked at the bottom of the back steps.
Mouth dry, I jumped out of the driver’s seat—literally jumped, the Land Cruiser’s height not making for an easy step out—without turning off the engine. I wasn’t about to risk the engine seizing from the cold.
I didn’t bother to take off my boots before running into the house.
What I saw in the living room firmed up the decision I’d already made to take Grace and Darcie with me: Grace was partially conscious, and had managed to crawl to the edge of the fireplace’s brick base. I knew what she wanted to do—scrape her taped wrists against the edge until the tape gave way.
Though I was ninety-nine percent sure Grace wasn’t the problem, I couldn’t be certain beyond all doubt. She’d had a knife in her hand; I had only her word that it had been in self-defense.
Her body slumped into a lax state again right then, and whether she was faking or not, I took the opportunity to find a piece of paper and scribble a note for Vansi.
Taking farm 4x4 to see if I can get help. Darcie and Grace with me. Stabbed each other. Cause of blood in living room. Don‘t know who was aggressor. Ash wounded and Aaron likely drugged at top of staircase leading to ruined wing. Check on them if you can. Don‘t eat or drink anything you don‘t make yourself, or that doesn‘t come from a sealed can or package. I‘m going to try my hardest to get us out safe. —L.
Below my scrawl, I sketched a rough map that’d lead her to Ash and Aaron. If she woke soon, she might be able to keep them alive until Aaron roused enough to help her bring Ash down to the warmth of the living area. If Ash was even still alive.
Best-case scenario: he was and they all got to the living area. If Kaea had been dosed, he should start to emerge out of it in the coming hours, which would leave Ash as the worst off. The others should be safe; there was plenty of firewood and food to get them through until help got there.
I didn’t mention the woman in the white dress because there was no way to explain her without sounding delusional myself.
Finished, I taped the note to Vansi’s wrist with duct tape. Obvious enough that she’d notice, but not on her hand, where she might groggily rip it off. Especially as I’d put the bulk of the note under her sleeve, with only the duct-taped section poking out.
Then, I did something I shouldn’t have done—but I could no more stop myself than I could stop the world from turning. Racing upstairs, I went into Darcie and Ash’s room. When I came out, it was with one of Darcie’s floaty dresses in hand. Not white but an ethereal green.
One of the brand-new ones never linked to her online, the tag still on it.
I ran out to put it carefully into the back of the Land Cruiser.
Once inside again, I looked at the three I needed to get into the vehicle. Making the call that Grace wouldn’t be able to free herself in the time available even if she was faking unconsciousness, and that the woman in the bloodstained dress was as deeply out as Aaron had been, I picked Darcie up with my now familiar grip under the armpits and dragged her to the kitchen. The task was nowhere near as difficult as with Ash and Aaron, but it wasn’t exactly easy, either.
She was light for her height—but that height put her several inches above me.
I didn’t bother with a jacket for her. She’d only be exposed to the outside air for the minute or so it’d take me to get her into the Land Cruiser, and I’d already turned on the heat in the vehicle.
I still grimaced at the icy slap of the air when we exited.
Grimaced again when her feet clanked on the steps. But she was wearing shoes. The thudding slams wouldn’t hurt her. Those same shoes scraped twin grooves into the snow as I dragged her to the Land Cruiser. I had to lay her down for a second to open the back passenger door and hoped it was quick enough that the wet didn’t really penetrate her clothing.
But right before I would’ve manhandled her into the seat, I changed my mind and dragged her to the front passenger seat. Darcie was the worst injured, the one least likely to have the energy to lunge at me in a sudden surge of violence.