Page 12 of Left Behind

She aimed the flashlight in the direction she’d been running and saw nothing beyond the beam of light. She was too tired and weak to keep going up. It was time to start moving downhill. Hopefully she’d see a house or a place to hide. She knew she was taking a chance using the flashlight now, but it was still raining so hard that he’d have to be standing beside her to see the beam. She kept moving forward, slowly angling downhill as she went.

But the farther down she went, the harder it was becoming to breathe, and she wondered what she’d done to herself when her chest hit the steering wheel. She was beginning to get dizzy. Half-blinded by the rain, she found herself staggering and once thought she’d been walking in circles.

She stopped to rest against a tree, grateful for the brief shelter beneath the branches. Once she’d caught her breath, she started off again and, within moments, stumbled and fell. Her phone fell out of her pocket, and she dropped her flashlight. She crawled to where it had fallen, picked it up, and was struggling to stand when a bullet tore through her shoulder. The impact threw her forward into the underbrush, and then everything went black.

Lonny grunted with satisfaction. He’d stopped her, but he needed to make sure she was dead. He aimed his flashlight down at the compass on his watch and was starting toward where she’d fallen when a shaft of lightning came down in the trees so close to where he was standing that the hair rose on the back of his head. He saw flames through the rain, followed by a crack of thunder so loud his ears popped.

“To hell with this,” he muttered, and headed back the way he’d come, running as fast as he could move through the trees.

By the time he got back to the road, the lights had gone off on her car, which was good. It would be daylight before anyone could possibly see the wreck, and thanks to the rain, no one would ever know he’d been there.

But he had a problem. He’d wrecked his knee. He was bleeding like a stuck pig and in serious pain. No way was he going to be able to drive like this. He knew Jubilee was further down the mountain and he needed help, but he couldn’t call an ambulance, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to walk into the ER and show his face. He didn’t want anyone to be able to say they’d even seen him in the vicinity.

He sat for a few moments, frantically going through the contacts on his phone when he saw the name Lilah Perry and paused. They’d parted company over two years ago, but not in anger.

Impulsively, he called her number, listened to it ringing, and sighed, fearing she wasn’t going to answer, and then she did.

“Hello?”

“Lilah, it’s me, Lonny.”

“What the hell, Lonny? It’s blowing up a storm down here.”

“Are you still in Jubilee?”

“Yes, why?”

“At the same place?” he asked.

“Oh, for God’s sake, Lonny, just spit it out,” Lilah snapped.

“I got caught in the storm and had a flat. I slipped changing it and hurt my bad knee. I need to get it patched up before I drive home. I was wondering if you would—”

“Can’t you just go to the ER?” she asked.

“That’s money I don’t have,” Lonny said.

She sighed. “Yeah, well, I understand that. Yes, I’m in the same place. Can you drive well enough to get here?”

Lonny breathed a sigh of relief. “Yeah. I really appreciate this, Lilah. I’m not asking to stay. Just long enough to get it bandaged up and stop the bleeding.”

“Jesus, Lonny! Are you bleeding bad?”

“Enough, but not enough to kill me. I’ll see you soon,” he said, and hung up, then put the car in gear and took off down the mountain.

The lights of Jubilee were a welcome sight when he finally drove through town. The streets were empty. No one in their right mind would be out on a night like this, and he kept going east on the main drag until he came to the oldest residential area of Jubilee and turned left. Lilah Perry’s house was the last one on Thornehill Drive, and she’d turned the porch light on.

He pulled up into her driveway, stuffed the gun beneath the seat, and hobbled through the rain and up the steps to her front door. She opened it before he could knock.

Without makeup and her hair all sleep-squished on one side, Lilah looked every day of her forty-seven years and then some.

“Come inside before you drown,” she said. “And stand on the doormat and strip. I don’t want you dripping all over my house.”

He didn’t hesitate and stripped down to his underwear. The deep cut on his knee was plainly visible, as was the rapidly spreading bruising around it.

“You did mess that knee up,” she said. “Here. Lean on me. You need a warm shower. Scrub soap in that cut while you’re at it, and then I’ll doctor it when you’re all dry.”

Lonny was hurting too bad to argue. As soon as she got him in the shower, she disappeared, and he went about the business of washing the evidence of two murders off his body, while thinking it was unfortunate the shower could not cleanse his soul.

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