Page 76 of Not This Way

As the killer stepped out of the car and circled around to the back door, Rachel braced herself against the seat, her muscles coiled like a spring. The door creaked open, revealing his silhouette framed by the merciless sun.

“Please try to understand,” he whispered, reaching for her.

“Understand this,” Rachel hissed, lunging forward. Her body slammed into his, driven by the force of pure adrenaline.

She struck him with the full force of her small frame. They hit the groundhard.The breath was knocked from her lungs.

She tried to scramble on top, but he was bucking desperately.

“Stop!” the killer shouted, struggling to break free from Rachel’s unyielding grip. “You don’t know what you’re—”

They tumbled along the ground, a tangle of limbs and desperation, until suddenly, Rachel felt the ground shift under her.

An incline.

Her hand was at his throat, but he was trying to gouge at her eyes.

The two of them began rolling down the incline as they thrashed about, kicking up dust.

CHAPTER THIRTY THREE

Rachel grappled, her hands straining, her breath coming in quick bursts. Sand got into her mouth, and she spat.

Rachel and the killer tumbled down the incline, picking up speed as they rolled.

Her shoulder struck a rock, and she cried out in pain. The killer’s grip on her loosened, and she took advantage, regaining the upper position.

But they continued to tumble, rolling along the ground with the change in motion.

At the base of the incline, the two of them came to a sudden halt, if only for a brief moment.

Rachel’s arms strained, but he had caught her wrists, holding her.

And in that moment, they remained motionless.

The desert stretched out before them like an endless, desolate ocean. The tall cactuses that surrounded Rachel and the killer stood sentinel in the arid wasteland, their imposing silhouettes casting long shadows. The air was thick with tension as the two combatants struggled in the dust, a deadly dance.

Where she pinned him, her muscles trembled from exertion as she fought to subdue him. She could feel the sweat pouring down her face, stinging her eyes. The grit of sand and dust filled her nostrils and mouth as they rolled in the dirt, but she didn’t care. All that mattered was taking this monster down, once and for all.

The killer’s face contorted in rage, his eyes wild with hatred. He tried to buck her off, but Rachel held firm.

She focused on her breathing—slow and steady—just as Aunt Sarah had taught her during their many hunting trips together.

The sun bathed the desert in a bright glow as Rachel’s and the killer’s labored breaths punctuated the otherwise silent morning. The soft crunch of sand beneath their struggling bodies mingled with the low growls of exertion, adding to the tense atmosphere. Rachel’s muscles strained against the killer’s strength, her grip tightening around his wrists as she fought to keep him pinned down.

The shadows cast by the towering cactuses danced and shifted as they grappled, heightening the sense of urgency that pulsed through Rachel’s veins. A bead of sweat trickled down her forehead, stinging her eyes as she blinked it away. She could feel the quickening rhythm of her own heartbeat, a drumbeat urging her on.

The killer’s face contorted, and he suddenly managed to break one hand free from her grasp. He swung at her wildly, but Rachel dodged his attack. She gritted her teeth, refusing to give in to fear or distraction.

“Stupid girl!” the killer screamed, his voice harsh and venomous. “You think you can stop me? You’re just like the rest of them… weak!”

Rachel’s jaw tightened, but she remained steadfast, searching for an opening to strike.

Anger bubbled within Rachel, but she clamped down on it, knowing that letting emotions take control would be her downfall. She focused on her breathing, steadying herself as she prepared for the next move.

Suddenly, she heard the sound of scraping metal.

His hand had dropped, and she spotted where he pulled a knife from his waistband.

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