Page 161 of Snared Rider

I stare at the empty gap where he was just standing, my heart racing.

Is he coming back?

Where the hell is he?

This is a nightmare, one I can’t wake up from because I’m already awake.

Get up, Beth.

I need to move. I need to keep moving.

On trembling legs, I push my left hand into the wet grass and get to my feet. My right arm throbs. I’m pretty sure getting through the door broke something because the pain is so intense it’s making me nauseous and light-headed. Even the adrenaline coursing through my body is not enough to dull the pain.

I push that aside and focus on escape, on getting help for Dean and me.

Where am I?

Surrounding the colliery compound, I can see the lights of Kingsley, but I’m still not sure which colliery this is. My brain is foggy and muddled but the lights seem like the best option for help so, I run towards them.

The collieries, which had once been a place I associated with a misspent youth, now hold a new meaning for me: complete and undulating terror. The vast cranes that stand tall above the buildings, once a symbol of northern industrialism and wealth, are sinister in the dark. The massive wheels and mechanisms are shrouded in chilling shadows that dance menacingly towards me.

I keep moving, even though I’m scared out of my wits. I scan frantically through the soupy darkness, searching for movement, for any sign Wilson is out there. I try to control my breathing, to keep quiet, but I can’t. My lungs burn as I draw in ragged breaths.

As I round the corner of the old brick building, I see familiar structures come into view, and I know where I am.

Hazelwood.

He brought us to the Hazelwood Colliery.

The tight bands around my chest loosen. The colliery sits less than five minutes from Grandad’s house.

If I can make it there…

Hope flares because not only is help tantalisingly close, but I also know the grounds of this colliery and I know them well enough to know where the exit is.

The relief at not floundering blindly in the dark is overwhelming. Mud squelches between my toes as I half-stagger, half-run in the direction of the main gates.

I want to live.

I want to see Logan again.

The desire to kiss him, to lie in his arms is overpowering and I hope to hell the universe will see fit to grant me that opportunity once more. I’m thirty-years-old; I have years ahead of me, so I’m not dying in this fucking colliery.

Something hits me hard in the back.

I barely have time to register this before the ground comes up to meet me. Mud splatters on my face, and although I throw my bound hands out at the last minute to break my fall, it doesn’t help. I can’t stop the wail of agony that escapes my mouth as I’m pushed down and flipped onto my back.

Wilson is on top of me before I can react.

He looks feral, wild, and I feel for Olivia. She must have been terrified coming face to face with him like this, trying to protect herself in the wake of such unrepressed fury.

He straddles my hips, his weight settling on my lower half and I’m rendered immobile. Still, I fight him because what other choice is there?

I thrash and buck against him, anything to free myself, but with my hands bound I’m fucked.

Wilson is far from helpless and he takes full advantage of his power and superior size. His hands come around my throat, despite my thrashing. And without hesitation he squeezes.

The pressure is intense and immediately I can’t breathe past his grip. My body goes into overdrive as panic and fear and desperation take hold. Primal desire to live overtakes everything else and I’m no longer Beth Goddard, thirty-year-old marketing executive, but an animal fighting to survive.

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