Page 71 of Searching Blind

Nothing happened.

The gun was jammed.

Grant laughed, an ugly sound, and ripped it out of her hand, then backhanded her so hard she tumbled backwards. Her head hit the ground hard, stars exploding in her vision. Through the haze of pain and dizziness, she heard him say, “You really thought that would work?”

Something whistled through the air, followed by a sharp crack as it connected with Grant’s skull. He stumbled back, releasing his grip on Lucy’s ankle. Sawyer surged forward, swinging what looked like a fallen branch at Grant again. The makeshift weapon connected with force, sending Grant sprawling in the dirt.

But the bastard didn’t stay down. He sprang back up, launching himself at Sawyer. They grappled for a moment before Grant landed a hard blow to Sawyer’s stomach. Sawyer doubled over, dropping to one knee. Grant stood over him, swaying unsteady, the working gun back in his hand. He raised it to Sawyer’s head.

No!

Pushing the nausea down, Lucy surged forward with a scream and slammed into him with all of her strength. They both tumbled to the ground, wrestling for control of the gun. It was a frantic struggle—dirt and blood mixing with sweat as they grappled.

Above them, Zelda’s furious barking echoed through the valley.

And beyond that, distantly, another sound—the steady thrum of helicopter blades closing in.

Rescue was coming. They just had to hold on for a few more seconds.

With renewed strength, Lucy twisted beneath Grant, managing to get the upper hand for a split second. She slammed her hand into his face, feeling his nose crunch under the blow. He cursed, the gun slipping from his grasp and landing just out of reach.

Ignoring the blood streaming down her face from a fresh cut on her forehead, she turned and crawled towards it. Her hand closed around it just as Grant lunged for her again, catching her around her hips.

No. She was not going to be a victim again.

Every muscle screamed as she twisted and fired.

The recoil sent pain singing through her every nerve ending, but the satisfaction as Grant jerked back, clutching at his shoulder where the bullet hit him, made it worth it.

Staggering back, he fell to his knees, clutching his bleeding shoulder. “You bitch,” he spat out.

Lucy took another shaky step back, clutching the gun in shaking hands. He looked up at her, the shadows deepening the lines on his face and making him look even more monstrous.

“Go ahead,” he said hoarsely.

She swallowed hard, staring down at him with a mix of fear and disgust. Then she tightened her grip on the gun and raised it.

Grant flinched, but the shot never came.

Instead, she stumbled back and dropped to her knees next to Sawyer. He was still on the ground where Grant had left him, dry heaving into the dirt, where it looked like he’d already emptied his stomach. His face was pale under a layer of sweat and grime.

Grant made a move as if to stand, but Lucy pointed the gun back at him without hesitation. “Stay down!”

The helicopter was getting louder now, the chopping blades echoing through the valley and drowning out everything else. Lucy squinted against the wind kicked up by the propellers as a rope dropped from the sky, quickly followed by several figures zipping down a line. As the first man hit the ground, he immediately reached behind him to unclip a mean-looking Shepard with yellow eyes from his harness. The dog bounded toward them, stopping short of Lucy and growling at Grant.

Relief swept through Lucy, followed by a profound wave of exhaustion. Her legs wobbled and gave out as the men and dogs of Redwood Coast Rescue surrounded and secured Grant. She crawled over to where Sawyer has collapsed and cupped her face in his hands.

His pale eyes fluttered open, but his gaze was more unfocused than usual. He was shocky, she realized. And maybe so was she.

“Sawyer,” she said, her voice breaking with relief. “We made it.”

He tried to smile through the pain, but the corners of his mouth twitched with effort. “I’d...hoped to give you...a better second date.”

Lucy let out a shaky laugh and leaned down to press her lips against his forehead. “This is definitely our third.”

His hands covered hers. “The fourth will be better.”

“Promises, promises.”

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