“I’m driving,” Creed nodded over his shoulder to the SUV where everyone was climbing excitedly back inside.
“Of course, you are. Now you get to be the one to tell Farrow. She can be a little bossy sometimes.”
“Not as bossy as Meg.” Creed smiled wistfully at the thought of his dark-eyed fighter.
“That’s very true,” Evan agreed.
“Damn, I love that girl,” Creed rubbed the moisture from his eyes as he rounded the SUV to have a quick talk with Farrow about the keys.
Chapter 3 Escape
She was still strapped into the harness.
She woke at what was either dusk or dawn. She had no idea which direction was north. Hell, she didn’t even know how long she’d been hanging sideways. Her eyes darted around her trying to take in as much as she could before she lost sunlight, in case that’s what the sun was really doing.
She looked down at herself and saw the long black gown she wore was wet with something just as dark. Frowning just as much from the disorientation as the pain, she looked to her right at the pressure there and saw a bloody body wrapped in a three-pieced suit.
Meg tried not to scream or vomit or both.
Starting to become more aware of the danger she was in, she began to frantically pull at the safety harness holding her at a painful angle.
Where the hell am I? She thought desperately tugging at the buttons and clasps pinning her to the grotesque body beside her.
She saw another body in the pilot’s seat, hunched forward. The man’s head was impaled by a rock formation that had interrupted the integrity of the chopper’s cockpit. Gray matter was visible in the dim light, and for the second time since she came to, she had to swallow the vomit that climbed her throat.
It tasted like blood.
Or maybe it was blood.
She reached up to touch her face and felt wet, stickiness.
Whose blood? Is this mine or the peeled monster’s beside me?
She used two hands to feel her face this time, touching tentatively, trying to determine whether it hurt somewhere specifically. That’s when her fingertips grazed the gash near her right temple. The wound was still seeping, and though Meg knew she had to stop the blood flow, she had to first get out of the helicopter.
What was I doing in this chopper? Who are these people? Where am I? And why am I wearing a black evening gown? She groaned as she finally unfastened the last of the straps.
She reached out instinctively to catch her fall and lay there for a moment looking up into the macabre scene inside the chopper’s cab. Through the still kicked-up dust she tried to look for a way out and managed a shaky breath when she realized the safest way for her to get out would be to crawl over the body of the gruesome guy dangling toward her and out his door. It looked like the only realistic exit, however loathsome. She inhaled deeply trying to garner the courage to climb him when she smelled something familiar.
Gasoline.
Oh shit!
The thought of going up in flames scared her more than the monster she was to use as a ladder.
She sat up and held anything she could trying to stand. She growled down at the high heels strapped to her feet and wondered again why she was dressed this way. She reached around the bloody guy and tried to grab the chopper’s door handle on his side. She could just reach but wouldn’t have enough leverage to slide it open until she was closer.
She breathed into her shoulder so as not to take in the raw smell emanating off the body she was forced to touch.
With sheer strength, Meg leveraged herself between the front passenger seat and the body to grab the handle and yank it wide to the right.
It moved without complaint. Meg breathed a sigh of relief as she watched the dimming light spill into the cab from this new opening. As quickly as possible, she had herself pulled up and seated at the opening of the helicopter.
“MEG!” a raspy voice barked.
A bloody hand reached out and grabbed her ankle, trying to yank her back. Meg screamed as the eyes of the bloody-faced man opened and narrowed in anger. Kicking frantically, she freed herself from his bloody grasp and clamored down the underbelly of the chopper.
She ran.
Her long, black gown trailed behind her as she moved swiftly despite her three-inch heels down the rocky side of the mountain. She ran until night fell obscuring her vision, making her descent even more treacherous.
Peering anxiously in the direction of the crashed helicopter, she put her hand to the bloody gash on her head. She felt her heart pounding angrily in her chest, but she wasn’t out of breath so much as shaking with fear.
What the hell is going on? She screamed inside her mind. Who am I and why can’t I remember anything?
Chapter 4 Echoes in the Dark