Page 9 of Eden

“Go left!” Bethenny ordered as she ducked behind a tree. She’d lost sight of the shooter, but he couldn’t have gotten far. If they split up, they’d have a better chance of tracking him.

Bethenny darted from one tree to the next, reminding herself to breathe, keeping her finger on the trigger. The bark of the tree exploded and she pulled back, pressing her back against the tree. She barely dared to breathe as she listened for movement, but the only sound she could hear was the roar of the angry storm.

She looked to her left, realizing she’d lost sight of Lachlan.

Panic ran through her. She should be able to see him. Where was he? Had he run after the shooter?

LACHLAN

His eyes never left the hooded jumper. How the shooter hadn’t tripped and face-planted yet was beyond him, but he didn’t give it another thought.

He raised his weapon again and aimed for the target as he darted through the muddy woods.

Sheets of rain pelted him, making it hard to see a foot in front of him, let alone fifty. Lachlan pulled the trigger, but he couldn’t tell if he’d made the hit or not. The shooter’s silhouette vanished into the foggy downpour and then reappeared like a ghost as Lachlan made up ground.

He pushed his legs harder, but the shooter was fast.

Lachlan fired again when the shooter became visible, but no scream followed, and the target disappeared once more.

He surged on, refusing to lose sight of that hood. His heart pounded in his chest and his lungs burned for oxygen, as water ran down his face.

When the shooter’s silhouette emerged once more, Lachlan was closer than he realized. He brought his weapon up and pulled the trigger.

This time he heard a scream and the shooter stumbled, slowing down.

He surged forward, the hooded figure almost within his grasp.

The fog thinned and Lachlan saw the killer running through the edge of the woods.

He subconsciously heard the noise but didn’t realize how close it was until he ran out of the woods. He had one sole focus, and that was the person in front of him.

Lachlan was still sprinting, his weapon raised. Adrenaline spiked through his veins and he was so focused on his primary goal he didn’t pay attention to his surroundings.

The shooter’s head snapped side to side frantically as they started skidding like they were trying to slow down. It took Lachlan a moment to realize why, and it was almost a moment too long.

As Lachlan surged forward, ready to lunge for the shooter, tackling them to the ground, the shooter disappeared into thin air.

The world stopped as all the pieces fell into place. Lachlan’s heart was in his chest as he looked down at the thundering waterfalls with a hundred-foot drop.

It was one of those moments when he knew what was going to happen, but he couldn’t stop it. The world moved in slow motion.

Lachlan twisted midair as he went over the edge, grabbing a ledge of the cliff barely adequate to be described as a fingerhold.

His legs dangled above the rapid waterfalls he was sure he couldn’t survive.

He inhaled deeply, knowing he needed to calm his mind. He looked up, realizing he was an arm’s reach from the cliff edge. He just needed to get one hand up, but that would involve holding his entire body with three fingers on nothing but a tiny piece of projecting rock... in the rain.

He took another calming breath.

It wasn’t an ideal option, but it was the only one he had.

He nodded to himself, prepping his mind for what he needed to do.

He knew he would only have one chance. It would take all his energy and strength to lift himself up, and he would only have a few seconds before his fingers would slip from the wet fingerhold under his bodyweight.

Lord, help me.

His prayer was short and straight to the point. He was expending energy with every second he clung to the cliff. He needed to move...

---