Page 88 of Hunter

Behind her, she heard footsteps pounding. Moaning, she tried to run but only succeeded in stumbling. Strong hands caught her, and she started to struggle.

“Kathryn, it’s all right. My name is Jonah Raider. I’m here to help.”

“Thank God,” she wheezed, the effort to speak making her throat ache.

“I saw your headlights. Then you stopped, and I heard the horn. “What happened?” he asked.

“Hunter threw himself out of the car. Back there.” She pointed in the direction from which she’d come.

“Why?”

She hesitated, wondering what kind of explanation she could give that wouldn’t sound like she’d lost her mind. But maybe Decorah Security was used to dealing with crazy situations. “They were experimenting on him at Stratford Creek. They put a—a compulsion in his mind that made him want to kill me. He was trying to stop himself. The only thing he could do was throw himself out of the car.”

“Then he still could be dangerous. You stay here.”

“No.”

The man named Jonah Raider started off, training his own light along the shoulder and into the underbrush.

She hurried to catch up.

About twenty-five feet down the road, they found Hunter lying in a tangle of vines that looked like they’d cushioned his fall.

She ran toward his limp body. “Hunter!”

His head moved, and he stared at her.

“Are you all right?” she asked urgently, coming down beside him on the leaves.

“Get . . . away . . . from me,” he gasped in a broken, desperate voice.

She reached to grip his arm as she gazed down into his anguished face. “I know what happened. I understand what you were trying to tell me—what Anderson did to you. I figured it out,” she said. “He didn’t believe Reid. He thought I was still alive—and that you would finish the job. But it’s all right. We can help you. It’s going to be all right.”

“No.” He tried to shake his head and grimaced.

Jonah was beside her, kneeling. He pulled a phone out of his back pocket and spoke in a low voice. “Get the van up here immediately. And be prepared to—”

Before he could finish the sentence, Hunter reached out and yanked the pistol from the holster riding at Jonah’s hip. With no hesitation, he turned the barrel toward his own head.

“God, no,” Kathryn sobbed and lunged at him yanking his hand up as she braced for the impact of the bullet.

“Kathryn!” Hunter screamed.

Instead of a shot from the gun, the sound of a distant explosion tore the air and a ball of fire erupted, turning the night sky an eerie orange over Stratford Creek.

Hunter stared at the fire leaping into the blackness. Raider pushed past Kathryn, wrestled the gun hand to the ground, and landed a solid blow to Hunter’s chin. He went limp.

###

With eyes dark-rimmed from lack of sleep, Kathryn sat in an armchair that someone had been thoughtful enough to put beside Hunter’s hospital bed. Her hands were clenched in her lap. Sometimes she prayed. Sometimes she simply watched Hunter’s face for any sign of change.

They were at a Decorah Security safe house, where they had been flown by helicopter two days ago. Two days during which Hunter had been unconscious, and she had been in turmoil.

First, he’d been sedated because she knew that if he were awake, he’d either try to kill himself or her. Then they’d stopped the medication, but Hunter hadn’t regained consciousness. Instead, he sunk into a coma.

With a sharp pang, she watched him lying on the bed, his strong body clad only in a hospital gown, his arms strapped to the sides of the bed. The head of Decorah Security had insisted on the straps for her safety—if she was going to stay alone with Hunter. If he woke and the drugs had damaged his brain, he might go after her again.

She touched one of the thick restraints, then glanced toward the door. If Hunter wasn’t all right, it didn’t really matter what else happened, she thought. With fingers that were amazingly steady, she unbuckled the straps, lowered the rail on the side of the bed, and clasped one of his large hands in her smaller ones. Turning his palm up, she saw the half-moon gouges where his nails had dug into his flesh as he’d tried to keep from attacking her. Softly, she kissed the healing wounds, thinking about the tortures he’d put himself through to save her.

---