Page 102 of Captured

Asking her to marry me.

Our first Christmas.

The birth of our son.

His first birthday.

Then flames…

I closed my eyes, the sounds fading away until all I could hear was the slowing beat of my heart.

And Mary’s voice as she whispered into my ear.

“You’ll always be in my heart as I will be in yours. Emily loves you. She needs you. Go to her.”

Then there was a flash, my angel was right there in the forefront of my mind. My sweet Emily. She needed me. She was my everything… I would save…

Emily

I pounded my fist against the slick mud sliding down the walls of the pit. “Styx. Where are you? Styx…” Sobs rushed into my system. I had a terrible feeling he was already dead, shot to death. I felt it in my bones. No. No…

My voice was as weak as my muscles, my body continuing to shiver. No one was coming to save me.

After taking several additional deep breaths, I was determined to climb my way out. I clawed at the mud as I’d done before, thrusting my feet into the muck in hopes of finding a rock, a stump, anything could put my foot on to hoist myself up.

After three more tries, I was ready to give up. Something sparked in me once again and I moved to another location, repeating the exercise. Do it. Do it. Do it. I gasped for joy when my foot landed on something. I took another deep breath, shoved my hand into the mud and fought my way up by a couple of feet. I tried another time, certain I’d found a second stump.

As soon as I tried to move again, I tumbled down, landing on my butt. Tears sprang to my eyes, the realization that I wasn’t getting out finally kicking in. I folded my knees against my chest, wrapping my arms around my legs, taking a few seconds to sob. I was a fighter, yet I couldn’t do it any longer. I didn’t have the strength.

No. No. No.

When I heard a noise a few seconds later, I struggled to my feet, ready to call out for help when the little voice told me to keep my mouth shut. Styx would know the location of the hole but if I called out and it was one of the enemies, then I was a dead woman. Oh, God. What was I supposed to do?

He’s dead. No one is coming to save you.

Shut up, little voice.

I peered up, thankful the rain was starting to let up, but with no moon, it was impossible to see anything. My mouth and throat were tight, my nerves on edge and it seemed like a full five minutes passed hearing nothing.

But the next sound was unbelievable. A growl. A series of shivers rushed down my spine. While I was no expert on wild animals, I’d say it was a coyote or a bobcat. I slunk back, barely able to breathe.

When the growl sounded as if it was coming closer, I knew in my heart the beast had gathered my scent. I sensed the creature’s presence and could tell he was pawing the ground, taking a deep whiff of his prey.

I had one choice, one moment of control. I was a dead woman anyway. I let off a bloodcurdling scream.

A strange foreboding sense rushed into my system seconds before the beast issued a bellow. It was a bobcat. I was positive of it. And it was getting ready to claim his dinner.

As I backed all the way against the muddy wall, I allowed the tears to fall.

A rush of air.

A group of sounds.

A cry so pitiful that I covered my ears.

A rustle of activity.

Another scream I let off.

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