Page 33 of Manhunt in the Narrows
Squeezing her pack to her chest, Sayles understood in that moment what she had to do, what she wished someone else had done for her. She took that initial step to close the distance between her and Patrick, with Mae positioned between them.
Mae’s cries shook through her. Blond hair fisted around the killer’s hand, she couldn’t budge an inch without his permission and the Hitchhiker Killer wasn’t about to let her go again. Sayles could read it in the deadpan expression etched into his face. “How…how did you find me?”
“You didn’t think I would let my favorite plaything off the leash without having a tracker to keep tabs on you, did you? It took some bribing, but your dentist left a few thousand dollars richer during your last cleaning. Unfortunately for him, he didn’t live long enough to spend it.” Zero remorse laced his words. As if violating his ex-wife had become an everyday occurrence, and Sayles had no doubt of the depths of his depravity to claim something that didn’t belong to him. The killer hauled Mae up by her hair, pressing his mouth to her ear. “Time to go home, darling. Where you belong.”
“Please, Patrick. Don’t do this.” Sayles took another step, grabbing on to that smallest bit of confidence Elias had praised her for so many times and holding on tight. The second the Hitchhiker Killer got his ex out of the park, Mae’s chances of survival plummeted. She couldn’t let that happen. Not now. Not ever again. “I can help you. Nobody has to get hurt.”
“I’m not your wife anymore.” Mae shook her head, seemingly running out of tears. She was losing energy. Burning throughwhatever remnants of adrenaline her body had produced upon seeing her partner killed in front of her, and Sayles needed her to keep fighting. “I left. I’m happy. Javier—”
“Is dead, Mae. What did you think would happen?” The killer stabbed the barrel of the gun into his ex-wife’s temple, his index finger over the trigger. Her silent scream told Sayles how much pain he’d inflicted, that he wanted it to hurt. “That I would just let another man put his hands on you? Kiss you? Take you to bed and not pay for touching you?”
“Please.” Defeat and grief battled across Mae’s freckled face as she struggled to get free of her ex, and Sayles couldn’t wait anymore.
“Please, what?” Patrick pressed his face against Mae’s tears. “Let you go? I gave you everything. A house, a better life. I paid for your clothes, your food, anything you wanted. All I wanted in return was for you to love me as much as I loved you, but you just couldn’t do that, could you?”
“You killed him.” Mae was on the verge of losing herself to the anger, the grief.
Now. Sayles had to go now. “Hey, Patrick?”
His gaze locked on hers.
“Go to hell.” Sayles threw her pack at the killer as hard she could. The weight slammed against his chest and knocked him back. The gun arced away from Mae’s head. Just for a moment. Sayles grabbed for the woman’s hand and tugged, forcing Mae to her feet. “Run!”
The desert stretched out in front of them.
The gun exploded from behind, and Sayles’s instinct automatically had her ducking her head to avoid a bullet. She clutched on to Mae as hard as she dared so they wouldn’t be separated, blocking her head with her other hand. As if it would be enough to stop dying as Javier had. “Come on!”
The last slivers of watery sunlight vanished from the horizon, leaving nothing but a warm orange glow in the sky. Within minutes, they’d have nothing but their pathetic human vision to navigate the wilderness, but it was enough. It would have to be enough. Weeds and cacti clawed at their exposed shins as they worked together to create as much distance between them and Patrick as possible.
“Mae!” Rage coated that one word, hiking Sayles’s defenses into overdrive. A second gunshot ripped through the night, but they couldn’t stop. Not yet. Not yet. “I will find you, Mae! I will make you pay for those ninety-two days you’ve been gone.”
The air was thinner here at 5,500 feet. Dizziness swam through her head, but she only dragged Mae to her side, unwilling to let go as they confronted the base of the mountain to the east. Her boots caught on a rock she hadn’t detected with her adjusting vision, and Sayles hit the ground. Cactus needles pierced the skin of her palms, and it took everything she had not to scream in pain. To give away their position.
“Are you okay?” Mae tried to help her to her feet.
“Keep going.” Scanning the massive wall of rock in front of them, Sayles ignored the agony in her chest and knees. She’d hit harder than she expected, but it wasn’t enough to stop her from escaping. “We have to climb.”
The mountain seemed to ignore their desperation, throwing obstacles in their path as they clawed upward. Patches of rock and weeds bled together in the lack of sunlight. Snakes and scorpions—along with much more dangerous wildlife—lived in these mountains, but Sayles couldn’t think about any of them right now.
“You can’t hide from me! I will find you both, and when I do I’ll finish this, I swear. You’ll never leave me again, Mae.” Patrick’s voice had gained some distance. “Shall we play a game of Marco Polo? Marco…”
Sayles’s hand flattened on a length of rock that went deeper into the mountain. Cool air brushed across her face, almost begging her to get closer. She shoved Mae ahead of her, keeping her voice low. “In here.”
“Marco!” That single word tensed the muscles down Sayles’s spine.
The cave mouth wasn’t large, but it would provide them a couple minutes of rest. That was all they could afford. Sayles scrambled across the dirt-covered floor, maneuvering Mae deeper, away from the entrance. A burning odor clogged the back of her throat, but they had no other choice.
“Behind me.” She positioned Mae at her back as she faced off with the mouth of the cave. A shadow crossed at the entrance, and Sayles fought down a shiver.
His frame came into view, dark against the backdrop of the last glow of the day. “Marco…”
Chapter Twenty-Six
The sound of the gunshot drilled straight through him.
Elias picked up the pace, following the curve of the mountain. He was losing blood, losing energy, but every step got him that much closer to Sayles and whoever else the killer had taken hostage. It was harder to breathe now. If he hadn’t been scheduled for a heart attack anytime soon, this manhunt would do the trick.
Forcing himself to slow, he tried to pick out evidence of movement or voices. The rustle of wind through scrub was all that responded. All right. He had to think despite his ability to grit through the pain; he was leaking. He wasn’t sure how much blood he’d already lost while unconscious in the river, but he had to guess any amount would come back and bite him in the ass if he didn’t get a handle on the situation. Damn it. He should’ve grabbed the campers’ first aid kit, but in the moment, all he’d been able to think about was Sayles. Getting to her.
