Soul Possession(36)

“I’m so going to kick her ass,” Jessie muttered under her breath.

It made her feel better to say it and it gave her an absurd thrill to think of actually getting to do it.

The sound got closer and Jessie’s panic began to rise. What if she was seen? She couldn’t defend herself in this position. What if the bitch just walked up and shot her? Or knifed her to death? And here she was, lying in a ball blubbering like a sissy and hoping that no one could see her.

If I die, damn it, I’m going to die kicking her ass.

She dragged herself up, nearly dying with every move. Pain was constant, a bitter never-ending wave snaking through her body, coiling and ready to strike harder and longer.

She gripped a big-ass rock in one hand and curled her fingers over a club-sized piece of wood. It took every ounce of determination and sheer will to survive to push herself to a standing position.

It was then that she saw the bitch cop. Standing several feet away scanning the distance with binoculars. Curiously, her rifle was absent and she wore only a pistol in her shoulder harness. Was she playing the cop now?

Switching the rock from her left hand to her right, she took aim and threw the rock right at the back of the cop’s head. Six years of softball paid off in that moment because it smacked her hard, knocking her forward to her knees.

Jessie ran. And later she’d never really know how she’d ever managed to fly across that space when her knee was such a mess. Pain crippled her but the thought of death kicked enough adrenaline back into her system that she performed the impossible.

Before Miss Batshit Crazy could react, Jessie nailed her with the piece of wood, knocking her completely to the ground so that she ate dirt. With shaking hands, Jessie yanked the pistol from her holster and backed away, her fingers glancing frantically over the stock in search of the safety. Shouldn’t there be a safety? Maybe not. This one looked like one of those aim-and-fire jobbers, which was just fine with her.

As the cop picked herself up off the ground, Jessie raised the gun and leveled it at the much taller woman.

“Jessie! Oh my God, Jessie!”

“Kim, what the hell is going on?”

The jumble of voices reached Jessie, but she refused to turn her head, though the urge to run straight into Rick and Truitt’s arms was so forceful that she had to jar her knee, sending a jolt of pain through her to keep her focused. Her sole concentration was on the woman in front of her. No way she could afford to divert her attention. It could cost her Rick’s and Truitt’s lives. It could cost her her own.

“You deserve to die, you crazy bitch,” Jessie said fiercely.

Kim held up her hands and her eyes turned pleading. It was amazing how innocent Crazy could look. “Rick, Truitt, call your woman off me. I think she’s lost her mind. She’s obviously traumatized and has no idea what she’s saying or doing.”

Of all the things Jessie thought the moron would say, that wasn’t it.

“Look, I’m here to help you. Help them find you.” Kim motioned to where the guys stood to the side, then she turned in their direction. “She clobbered me and took my gun. Talk her down before somebody dies.”

Jessie’s hand shook and the numb that had settled in the night before was starting to crack.

“Jessie, honey, give me the gun. It’s over now. You’re okay. You’re hurt. Let us take care of you.”

Rick’s low, reassuring voice slid over her with soul-deep comfort. But she’d seen evil in the eyes of that woman. She saw it now behind the deceptive appeal, the pretense of innocence.

But would Rick and Truitt believe her? Would they take her word against one of their own?

Truitt added his own soft plea as if he thought she’d gone completely over the edge and needed to be calmed before she jumped.

“Jessie, we’re here now. Let us help you. You survived that bastard. We’ll get him. I swear to you we’ll nail his ass to the wall. We need to get you medical attention. You’ve got blood all over you and you’re scaring me to death, baby. Put down the gun and let us help you.”

“She’s the one,” Jessie said in as calm a voice as she could when she was so dangerously close to having a complete break from reality. Truitt wasn’t far off if he imagined she was so very close to the edge. “She came to my apartment. She Tased me and then knocked me out. When I woke up, I was tied to a table in a hunting cabin. She smashed my knee. She cut me. So I’d bleed, so she could track the blood trail. She was going to hunt me down and kill me just like she did all the others, but I was too smart for her. Yeah, that’s right, you stupid bitch. I outsmarted you. I won. And I swear to God I’m going to kick your teeth in when Rick and Truitt take you down.”

It was only then that she chanced a glance at Rick and Truitt, because if they didn’t believe her, if they left her alone with this woman for even a minute, she would kill Jessie or Jessie would have to kill her. Either way, someone was going to die.

Truitt and Rick looked horrified, appalled, worried, and confused. But then she saw something else. Realization. And close behind it, rage.

Truitt drew his gun and pointed it at Kim just as Rick slid his arm around Jessie and gently pried the pistol from her grip.

The very last of her strength gone, her knees buckled and she went down before Rick could catch her. Truitt’s attention was diverted for the briefest of moments, and Kim reached for the pistol attached to her ankle.