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glanced at the cabin as though he felt a need for stealth. |
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Chris peeked out the window once more. The man stared at the cabin with a frown on his face. While he looked around the area once again, Chris studied the stranger. Dark hair, young, handsomethough the scowl on his face marred his looks a bit. He wasn't one of the three men who had accosted Chris in Outgamie. Chris had never seen the fourth, the one who'd driven the van and shot D.J. Still, Chris knew this man. The face was familiar, as was the set of the man's shoulders, and the way he walked on the balls of his feet, as if he needed to be ready for anything. Chris had met him before. But where and why? Though Chris couldn't remember who the man was, he did know one thing instinctively: This man hadn't been sent by the person who wanted Chris dead. This man was the faceless, nameless stalker who had haunted his and D.J.'s every move for the past few days. |
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Panic flared to life within Chris. |
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She could come out of the woods at any moment, unaware that their hideaway had been discovered. He needed to find her. |
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Chris dashed for the kitchen, where another door led outside. He exited in silence, just as the front door opened. Chris didn't look back. He didn't pause to see what the man did next. He sprinted for the trees, on the hunt for D.J. |
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D.J. took her time returning to the cabin. Her entire life had been upended like a wastepaper bas- |
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