Page 1 of In Her Shadow

PROLOGUE

Clyde Simmons blinked against the darkness.His eyelids felt heavy, as if they were fighting gravity itself to remain open.A dull thud pulsed in his temples.The earth beneath him was cool and strangely comforting.

With effort, he tilted his head, wincing at the sharp pain that shot through his skull.Why was he lying here in a cattle pasture?Panic fluttered in Clyde’s chest.His tongue darted out, tasting the remnants of whiskey that clung stubbornly to his palate, the flavor tainted by fear.He couldn’t remember how many drinks he’d had at the Centaur’s Den, or how those drinks had led him to this quiet place under a moonless sky.But a pain in the back of his head suggested a sharp blow that had knocked him out cold.

But who had delivered that blow, and how, and exactly when?

Gritting his teeth, Clyde attempted to push himself up, his hand slipping on the dew-slick grass.His limbs protested, weak and unreliable, as if they belonged to someone else.He managed to prop himself onto his elbows, squinting into the darkness.Nothing looked familiar—not the jagged outline of the distant trees nor the soft curves of the rolling hills.

“Where am I?”he whispered.

The dim light offered little in the way of reassurance.Clyde’s breath came in short gasps, uneven and shaky as he forced himself to stand.His legs trembled beneath him.He teetered, his arms flailing for balance.

Alone.Vulnerable.The reality of his situation settled over him.“Help,” he croaked, but the word was lost in the vastness around him.In the distance, the benign lowing of cattle did nothing to ease the tight knot of panic in his belly.

Clyde knew he had to move to find his way back to civilization.But as he took a wobbly step forward, his thoughts spun in confusion and dread.Had he become prey?What unseen danger lurked just beyond his blurred vision?

The silence was suddenly fractured as the low grumble of an engine idling sliced through the air.Clyde’s head whipped around, eyes strained against the impenetrable blackness.The sound seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once.

He couldn’t think.He could only react.With a surge of adrenaline, Clyde made his decision.He had to flee, had to get away from the source of that ominous rumble.

His first steps were clumsy, his limbs still betraying him.Panic clawed at his throat as he staggered forward.The pasture underfoot was a minefield of dips and rises, hidden by the dimness of the moonless July night.Clyde’s foot caught on a tuft of grass, and he stumbled, arms flailing for balance he barely maintained.

“Come on, Clyde,” he muttered to himself, a desperate whisper in the darkness.His sister’s face flashed in his mind – her disapproving glare that demanded strength and control.He couldn’t let her down; he couldn’t let himself become a victim here, which must be somewhere in the fields that bordered Trentville, where he had spent countless days upholding the law as a meat inspector.

The engine’s thrumming continued, a predator’s purr stalking his every move.Clyde pushed his failing body harder, his breaths ragged, his legs pumping.

“Damn you,” he hissed through clenched teeth, the words barely audible over the sound of his own labored breathing and the relentless idling of the engine.Fear gave way to anger, fueling his muscles as he forced himself onward, away from the danger that lurked just out of sight.

Bursts of white light sliced through the blackness, halogen blades that turned night into day in cruel, sweeping arcs.Clyde’s heart stuttered as the beams found him, a deer in their merciless glare.The truck roared—a clear, unmistakable challenge—as it surged forward, its engine growling with predatory hunger.

“God, no,” Clyde gasped, his voice barely carrying over the noise of the truck’s revving engine.His instincts screamed at him to run, to evade the mechanical beast that was barreling down on him.

With a surge of adrenaline, he darted to the left, then the right, his movements erratic as a hare caught in a hunt.The pasture was an alien landscape, each dip and swell a potential downfall.Clyde’s legs felt like they were churning through molasses.

The headlights tracked him, swiveling sharply as the truck adjusted its course.He could feel the vibrations of its pursuit through the soles of his boots, an ominous drumbeat that matched the pounding of his heart.He gasped for air, his lungs burning with effort.

“Keep moving,” Clyde urged himself.He zigzagged across the field, his gait uneven and desperate.Each pivot sent jolts of pain radiating from his throbbing head, but he couldn’t afford to slow down.Not when every roar of the engine spelled out his doom, growing louder, closer.

The truck matched his every move with chilling precision, a predator just behind the reach of the headlights that chased him.Clyde knew the fields of Genesius County well, but in this twisted game, such knowledge seemed futile against the raw power bearing down on him.

A fence loomed suddenly before him, a barrier rising from the shadows of the pasture.Clyde’s exhausted body collided with the woven wire, the jarring impact knocking what little wind he had left from his lungs.He clawed at the metal, a trapped animal seeking any hole that might offer passage, but found none.

“Damn it!No, no, no!”The words tumbled from his lips in a breathless cascade.His eyes darted along the length of the fence, desperate for an option, a forgotten gate, an overlooked breach – anything.But there was nothing except the unyielding lines of wire and wood that penned him in.

The truck, its engine growling like a feral beast, slowed to an idle, the sound reverberating through the still night air.Clyde pressed his back against the cold fence, every muscle tensed, as if by sheer will he could merge with the metal and disappear into the darkness.

Headlights washed over him, casting his shadow grotesquely on the ground as the vehicle came to a stop.The driver’s door creaked open, adding a chilling note to the symphony of dread that played in Clyde’s mind.A silhouette emerged, broad-shouldered and indistinct.

“Who...who are you?”Clyde’s voice broke, the taste of whiskey and fear thick on his tongue.He squinted, trying to make out features, clothing, anything that might give away the identity of this looming figure.

“Shhh, Clyde.”The man’s voice was a whisper, a taunting sound that sent shivers down his spine.It was familiar—an echo of conversations past—but twisted now, sinister in its calmness.

“Recognize me yet?”The assailant took a step closer, and Clyde could see the glint of something metallic in his hand.

“Please,” Clyde stammered, his mind racing.The voice tugged at memories blurred by the fog of alcohol and the blow to his head.He searched the recesses of his mind, grappling with names and faces from Genesius County’s community.

“Come on now, Clyde,” the attacker coaxed, his tone almost playful.“Think harder.”

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