Page 27 of Hunted By the Mountain Man

Suddenly, a body crashes into me from behind, arms wrapping around my waist. My martial arts instincts kick in instantly as I feel my feet lifting from the ground. Someone’s trying to body slam me to the ground.

Hooking my feet around the backs of the assailant’s knees so he can’t throw me over his shoulder and face first into the ground, I drop my full body weight, breaking his grip. Scrambling up from my knees, I dart towards the game trail, realizing with a sickening feeling that I dropped my cellphone in the altercation.

Glancing over my shoulder to get a good look at my attacker, my eyes strain, unable to process the image. Ralph is pursuing me, his face transformed from goofy and disarming to menacing and murderous. I scream a bloodcurdling cry between breaths.

What in the hell do I do?My mind races as I race down the game trail, moving so fast that a sharp stitch forms in my side. Maybe I should leave the trail altogether, get thoroughly lost in the woods. Ralph never ventures off-trail alone. But as I lengthen my strides, trying to slip away from the man and all the time feeling him close in on me, I realize everything I know about Ralph is a lie.

Ralph Wade’s supposed to be out of shape with plantar fasciitis, so he has trouble hiking some days. Running should be excruciating for him if not impossible. He’s supposed to be a total goofball who wouldn’t harm a fly. But the man panting like a demon behind me is none of these things.

I kick myself for leaving my backpack with my knife back at the 4Runner. Maybe I can find a way to double back and get to it. Or better yet, drive away. I pull my key fob from my pocket, wishing it were an old-fashioned metal key that I could position between my knuckles as a stabbing weapon. But I do have bear spray on the chain. I must use it with care, though, to avoid blinding myself with back-spray.

Heavy footfalls hammer closer and closer as I eye the forest frantically, looking for some means of escape. A vicious grip captures my arm, swinging me back around, and I stare at an unhinged man, demonic and possessed. I can’t find a trace of Ralph in his body. He twists the key fob and bear spray from my hand, nearly breaking my wrist.

Before I can react, he backhands me so fiercely that I stumble to the ground. Jumping atop me, he straddles me, grabbing me by throat and whispering viciously against my ear, “Shut the fuck up, or you’re dead.”

He backhands me again, and momentary blackness overtakes me before my eyes flutter open, staring up at his blurry face. My eyes attempt to adjust, and my mind fractures, incapable of understanding who this new Ralph is.

His finger points in my face, inches from my nose, as his grip tightens on my neck, and I start to lose consciousness again. “Don’t make a fucking sound.”

His finger loosens slightly, and my brain races back to life. My whole body trembles as I think about my Jiu-Jitsu training and ways to escape his hold. Instead, I gasp, my brain thirsty for the air and blood his fingers starved me of.

I nod, my chin trembling, and he loosens his hand more, sitting back on my pelvis. Grabbing the dirty, damp handkerchief from his head, he wraps it around my mouth, tying it tightly behind my head. I can smell and taste his sweat, the nauseating sensory overload, making me gag.

“I’ll make you gag, you fucking bitch. Just you wait.” Jumping to his feet, he grabs my upper arm viciously, pulling me up beside him and using paracord from his backpack to secure my wrists behind me. “Guess who gets to find out what happened to the two hikers? Rachel and Penny. Oh, God, how they begged for their lives.” He laughs a cold, hard laugh. “They sucked me off so fucking good, never knowing their fates were already sealed.”

My eyes close and another round of nausea seizes me.I’ll bite his fucking dick off if it comes to that.I’ll fight back in every way possible, ensuring my death is the death of this bastard. Or at least an experience so fucking traumatic, so marked with incriminating evidence that authorities will find this fiend.

He urges me on, and I resist every step of the way, determined not to take one more step. Stopping suddenly, he backhands me again, and I see stars, falling to my knees. “Keep it up, bitch. Keep it the fuck up, and I’ll kill you right here.”

Kill me, I silently challenge, lifting my chin. I’m at a crossroads, calculating when I sent Beau the image and how long it will take him to reach us.Ifhe recognizes the image.Ifhe tries to come after me despite the way I abandoned him. I inadvertently played on one of his deepest wounds, and I wonder if he will ever forgive me, let alone rescue me.

I realize the bandana over my mouth has been knocked loose. Attempting to talk him out of whatever he intends, I whisper, tasting blood in my mouth, “You’re not a bad guy, Ralph. I know that better than anyone. We’re friends, and friends stick by each other no matter what. There’s nothing you’ve said or done that’s unforgivable.” Lies. All lies, but I have to persuade him to let me go.

He chuckles under his breath, raising his eyebrows. “Friends? You’re hilarious, Brynn. Rachel and Penny were my hiking buddies, too. Such sweet, dumb girls.”

I take a deep breath, steeling my voice and trying not to sound terrified. “Ralph, I’m not like Rachel and Penny because I understand you better than anybody. We’re alike, you and I.”

“And why would you say that?” He spits at me.

“Because I’ve gone to great lengths to be famous, too. I get it.”

He shoves the bandana up over my mouth again, sending a shooting pain through my lower jaw where he’s struck me repeatedly. “Stop talking and start walking.”

He pulls me up by my arm, striding faster as my feet drag and protest next to his. All I can think about is making every moment of this frustratingly difficult for him and leaving a trail Beau can follow of footprints, disturbed ground, and broken branches.

“You always have to make things so fucking difficult, you goddamned bitch. If I’d had my way last night, I would have broken into your 4Runner and taken you then.”

I glance towards him, my eyes asking the obvious question.

“But then that local yokel boyfriend of yours had to show up. The guy who’s followed you all week and cramped my best-laid plans to add you to the list of Craven’s ghostly escapades. Then, you’ll really be famous, Brynn. More famous than fat girl yoga could ever make you. As for me? I don’t need fame. I need to make the world feel uncontrollable, illogical, irrational terror as my hero, my fucking mentor, continues his killing spree from beyond the grave.”

Out of nowhere, I feelhiseyes on me. My mountain man stalker. My pulse pounds in my temples as my feet go from uncooperative to moving at Ralph’s pace. I fight the urge to scan the tree line for fear it’ll clue my captor into what’s going on. Instead, I keep my head down, feigning defeat as Ralph takes me deeper into the woods.

We are the hunted, and Ralph doesn’t know it. Every muscle in my body tightens, preparing for whatever fight must go down when the hunter makes his presence known. We come to a sharp precipice, staring down at dizzying drops below. If I weren’t certain Beau was here, I would jump from this cliff in a heartbeat rather than let Ralph execute his mind-churning plans for me. Instead, I shrug my shoulders, acting docile.

“There it is,” Ralph taunts me. “Finally giving up and giving in. Rachel and Penny did, too. After scratching the shit out of my back. Those fucking bitches. But I made them pay,” he chuckles.

I glance towards him, knitting my forehead.

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