Amish Refuge. Debby Giusti

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       ONE

      Serpent would find her and kill her. Tonight.

      Miriam Miller woke with a start, chilled to the bone. She rubbed her hands over her arms and blinked against the night air seeping through the broken car window. Tugging her crocheted scarf and threadbare jacket across her chest, she straightened in the driver’s seat and gazed through the windshield.

      A police car with lights flashing braked to a stop on the edge of the narrow, two-lane road not more than twenty feet from where she’d parked, hidden by trees and underbrush.

      Fear clutched her throat.

      The cop—a bull of a man with a heart as dark as the night—stepped to the pavement and played his flashlight over the tall pines. Her pulse pounded and a roar filled her ears. She could envision the serpent tattoo that wrapped around his neck, the snake as heinous as the man.

      She had been a fool to think she could elude him by hiding in the woods. Even more of a fool to succumb to the fatigue brought on by the drugs he had used to subdue her.

      Fisting her hands, she swallowed the bile that filled her mouth and steeled her spine with resolve. He’d caught her once. He would never capture her again.

      She reached for the key in the ignition and held her breath as he pushed aside a tree branch and peered deeper into the woods. With the flick of his wrist, a flash of light caught her in its glare. Just that fast, he was running straight for her.

      Before she could start the engine, he opened the driver’s door and yanked her from the car. Screaming, she fell at his feet, crawled away on all fours and struggled to right herself.

      He kicked her ribs. Air wheezed from her lungs. He grabbed her hair, turned her to face him and pulled her upright.

      She thrashed her arms, kicked her feet then jabbed her fingers deep into his eyes.

      He cursed, covered his face with his hands and stumbled backward. “Why you—!”

      She lunged for her car.

      A bag of craft supplies lay on the floor mat. Frantically she dug for the shears, relieved when her hand gripped the sharp steel.

      He struck her shoulder, knocking her off balance. She cried in pain. Another blow, this one to her head.

      She tightened her hold on the scissors, raised her hand and stabbed his neck. He groaned, momentarily stunned. She scrambled into her car, slammed and locked the door, and turned the key in the ignition. He grabbed the door handle and banged on the window, his hateful face pushed flat against the cracked glass.

      The motor purred to life.

      “Thank You,” she silently prayed to a God in whom she’d only started to believe.

      Serpent railed in rage.

      She jammed the accelerator to the floorboard. Her head flew back as the sudden momentum jerked the car forward, throwing her attacker to the ground.

      Her heart pounded nearly out of her chest and her hands shook so hard she could barely steer the car along the narrow path СКАЧАТЬ