Hell for Leather (Black Knights Inc. #6)(50)


“Arp!” She saw the blade on the big hunting knife flash in the rays of the rising sun and could do nothing but watch helplessly as it imbedded itself into Fido’s furry chest. She stumbled back when the dog’s yelp of pain and confusion echoed in her ears, a scream of gut-wrenching anguish building like a tidal wave at the back her throat. She opened her mouth to let it loose, but in that instant the dark-skinned man launched himself at her, hands curled into claws, an ugly snarl plastered on his face.

Oomph! All the air exploded from her lungs when his weight slammed her to the ground. Bam! Her head bounced against the dirt and grass, stunning her, making her ears buzz and her vision narrow until it appeared as if she was stuck inside a dark tunnel.

It was a strange thing, but during that moment when she lay still, unable to move, unable to draw breath, unable to think, she noticed the sky above her was pink and purple and orange. The rays of the early morning sun glinted off the clouds in a brilliant display at the end of the dark shaft that was her vision. Then, seemingly from a place very far away, a hand came up to cover her mouth, just as it had the first time.

The first time…

In an instant, the ol’ cerebral cortex jump-started its synapses and her muscles immediately came to life. She wriggled and writhed, bucked and heaved, trying to scramble out from under the unbearable weight pressing her into the yard. But nothing she did seemed to dislodge her attacker.

She couldn’t believe it. She couldn’t believe her would-be abductor had followed her here. To this place. And he was going to try to take her. Again!

Oh, hell no!

Even as her mind raced with questions—Who is he? Why is he here? Is he just after me, or is he mixed up in Uncle Theo’s disappearance? What does he want?—she fought with everything she had, opening her mouth to try to bite at the hand. But it was to no avail. And, inexplicably, no matter how hard she punched and kicked and tossed about, she couldn’t unseat her assailant. And then he placed an arm against her throat. Instantly, her brain became starved for oxygen. Her movements began to feel sluggish, weighted, as if her limbs were no longer her own…

She tried to shake her head, to jolt loose the hand over her mouth, but all she managed to do was to turn her chin.

It was overtaking her now. The darkness. The emptiness. She struggled to drag in a breath as her bleary gaze alighted on Fido, lying on his side. The dog’s wonderful brown eyes were bright with misery and bewilderment, his tongue hanging out as he panted in what had to be his death throes.

I’m so sorry, she thought, watching Fido’s bright red blood leak from around the blade of the knife still imbedded in his chest, matting his fur and staining the grass beneath him. This is all my fault. I brought this man here. And I’m so, so sorry.

Even terribly injured, the brave dog sensed her desperation and attempted to drag himself closer. But it was too much. Every move resulted in a loud, soul-tearing yelp that rang sharply in her ears and felt like a hatchet strike to her heart. Hot tears burned up the back of her throat, pouring from her darkening eyes to slide across her cheek and nose and drip into the earth beneath her.

Shhh, shhh, she wanted to tell Fido. Don’t fight it. You’re a good boy. Be still. Be quiet…

But death wasn’t something a body—be it man’s or beast’s—did gracefully. It struggled and strained against the inevitable end with everything it had. She should know. This wasn’t the first time she’d seen the specter of the Great Beyond hovering close. The blood. The fear. The all-out battle to draw one last, shuddering breath of life. It’d happened before…

Just like with Buzzard. Just like…had it been this way for Uncle Theo? Will it be this way with me?

The thoughts whispered through her sluggish mind as white stars danced before her eyes. Her under-oxygenated brain begged her to draw a breath. Her chest burned like she’d swallowed a box of fireworks. But she blinked off the encroaching darkness, holding on a second longer. If she could just hold on a second longer…

Locking gazes with poor Fido, she wanted nothing more than to take the dog’s agony and anguish and confusion into herself. To reach out to him and offer him comfort in these last miserable moments. And maybe she could. Maybe if she could just reach—

Letting go of her assailant, she strained toward the whimpering, suffering animal with one arm, her fingers outstretched, her diaphragm quaking with her muffled sobs and her body’s intense desire to suck in a huge, glorious lungful of oxygen.

Please, God! Let me help him! Let me touch him!

But her prayer went unanswered. The big yellow dog was too far away. Too far away, and she was fading now. Her vision dimmed to nothing more than faint, barely intelligible shadows. And, then, to her astonishment, the dying canine dragged himself forward another inch, enough to allow her fingertips to reach the soft pad of his nose. As her eyes rolled back in her head, she gently rubbed that warm, dry nose, giving what small measure of peace she could until the darkness consumed her…

***

“Okay. Bring up the next one,” Ozzie said as they all watched the screen on the CIA agent’s iPad fade to black while the satellite changed the angle of its lens. Mac was more than happy to let the boy wonder take the lead in this particular endeavor. Ozzie was the most qualified among them, after all. And someone needed to keep an eye on Agent Duvall’s keystrokes. You know, make sure she wasn’t feeding them a big bunch of hooey for…whatever reason.

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