Page 137 of D for Dead

He seized the knife, reached for his cuffs, and climbed from the car, pushing his attacker’s face down into the dirt. As he reached for his hands, the man rolled over, catching him by surprise – and Vic felt something: a sharp sting against his chest.

The fucker had a taser.

He wanted to yell out, but couldn’t seem to find his voice as the shock pulsated through his body. The knife fell from his grip and he collapsed to the floor beside it. As he lay on the ground, he was aware of the knife being picked up again, was helpless to stop his attacker from plunging the blade hard into his belly. He felt sharp pain in his gut, the burn of the sun on his face and heard the sound of Huckleberry’s growl over the Tim McGraw track still playing on the radio.

Then his eyes dropped shut and he felt and heard nothing.

40

Amy thanked the pastor and stepped out of the church, her head spinning and a mix of emotions creeping over her.

She appreciated Pastor Ralph taking time to speak with her, but the man was a stranger to her problems and had no idea what it was like to be in her shoes. Add to that the religious spiel he had thrown at her, about finding God and letting him guide her down the right path – well, she found it hard to swallow. She had given up believing in God the day her parents had died. Now she only believed in chance and hope and working hard to make things right; something that was presently out of her control.

Guilt, fear, anger, worry and frustration all churned in her belly. Guilt for the victims who had been murdered because this sicko had a vendetta against her; fear of what might happen next; anger at Hickok and Angell’s accusations; worry that Sullivan thought she had been lying too; and frustration because she didn’t know what to do or how to act, given there was still one book left to go.

Glancing across the graveyard towards the parking lot, she noticed the dark van parked next to Boaz’s car. Maybe a maintenance man or caretaker. Heading down the stone path, she breathed in the scent of the heavy air. The wind had died and the sun was too hot. Dark clouds overhead suggested a storm was approaching.

As she neared the parking lot she could hear Huckleberry barking.

Damn it, Boaz, you were supposed to be giving him some exercise, not locking him in a hot car.

And then she saw Boaz, on the ground, between the car and the van, and her heart caught.

Had he collapsed?

Without thinking, she ran the remaining distance down the path and into the parking lot, over to where he lay. He was on the ground and curled in a foetal position.

‘Jeez, Vic?’

Amy dropped to her knees; put her hand to his throat, feeling for a pulse.

He was cold, so cold.

Damn, Boaz. What happened?

She was about to call for the pastor, when she noticed blood pooling from underneath him.

Someone did this to him.

The thought caught in her throat, along with the scream. If someone did this, where were they now?

With shaky fingers, she reached carefully, quietly, into her purse for her cell phone.

As she did so, a shadow fell over her.

Amy froze, catching her breath, the phone clenched in her hand. It was a trap. As she understood, as her brain instructed her to scream, she felt an arm lock around her, a stinging pinprick against her throat, and her limbs immediately went numb. The arm tightened around her as she lost control, felt her body go limp, then only darkness.

* * *

The vibrations shook her awake.

Amy had no idea how long she had been out, but as she gradually came to she became aware of two things. Firstly, she couldn’t move. Her arms were mostly still numb, but a dull aching pain was slowly making its way down to her fingers. Her wrists were bound, her arms pulled uncomfortably tight behind her. Secondly, she was in a moving vehicle, lying down with her head against the floor, the vibrations rattling through her and causing her belly to roil. A wave of nausea hit as the fog started to lift and she retched forward, realising something was tied across her mouth.

Panic took over and she tried to scream, fought frantically to sit herself up and pull her wrists free. The binding was tight and with another jolt of the vehicle – some kind of van – she lost her balance, falling back down.

Stay calm. Don’t let the fear take over.

She fought to gain her breath, to control her breathing.