Page 18 of Into the Veins
“Blair?” Colson picked up the pace, following the hidden path that’d branched from the main trail. It hadn’t been maintained in years, hadn’t even been included on the map, but it was the only shot he had of finding her. Dirt mixed with rain and suctioned to his boots. His muscles protested with exertion. Rain pounded against his face and neck as he climbed a sharp incline. His boot slipped out from under him, and Colson slammed face down onto the trail. He’d heard her scream. She had to be here. Gushing water slipped over his hands as he pressed to his knees. The soil gave under his weight, but he only pushed himself harder. He slid down the incline on all fours, and the radio earpiece he’d borrowed from Deputy Garcia tore free. It didn’t matter. Getting to Blair. That was all that mattered. Swiping mud from around the radio strapped to his vest, he compressed the push-to-talk button. “Sheriff, do you read me?”
He struggled to control the surge of dread as time distorted into a cold fluid. Seconds slipped into minutes. No response. Colson opened the frequency again but hesitated bringing the handset to his mouth. The radio hadn’t lit up as it had when he’d tested it in the parking lot. He hit the open channel again, adjusted the frequency. Nothing. The damn thing had died. “Son of a bitch.”
Mother Nature had washed away any indication Blair had come this way, but he had to keep going. Every second Blair was out here on her own was another second she might not come home. Colson sidestepped the trail and hiked through thick vines and plant life for purchase. His boots sank deeper here, increasing the pressure in his muscles, and his heart rate shot into dangerous territory. “I need to work out more.”
He made it to the top of the rise, barely pausing to catch his breath before he pumped his legs harder. The trees thinned ahead and gave way to a large clearing. Pines encircled the open space, blocking his view of Tiger Mountain. Colson maneuvered the flashlight beam a few feet out in front of him. Dark clouds suffocated the night and threatened to close in around him the higher he climbed. The unmaintained trail dissolved around the edges as the storm churned violently overhead. Rain pitted the dirt in dime-size pellets and destroyed his chances of uncovering the sheriff’s tracks. “Come on, Blair. Tell me where you are. Give me a clue.”
The flashlight beam highlighted a short, curved piece of white material off to the right of the trail. Barely noticeable, almost hidden. Rangers took great care to keep the state forest in pristine condition, but considering this trail hadn’t been mapped on the official website, Colson doubted whatever it was had come from a random hiker. He crouched, rifling through overgrown vines, and pulled the plastic free.
A zip tie. Coated in blood along one edge. Still fresh.
The rain diluted the blood sample. He extracted a plastic bag from his coat and dropped the tie inside, sealing it. She’d been here. Blair had left him a trail, but one breadcrumb wasn’t going to help him find her. He needed the next piece to the puzzle. He increased his search area, scouring under leaves and through thick mud. Another glint of plastic directed him off trail, and he collected a second zip tie. This one longer than the first. Pressing the edge of the plastic into his fingers, he scanned the slight parting of weeds branching away from this very spot. “You got yourself free. You ran.”
But had she been fast enough?
Colson pocketed the second tie and unholstered his weapon. He followed the damage to the weeds, careful of the patterned crushing. There was a break in the tree line up ahead. If Blair had been running for her life, he bet that was the way she’d gone. She’d try to find a main trail, a ranger station. Anything that would lead her back down the mountain and give her a sense of direction. He jogged for the trees. “You better be alive, woman.”
Because the alternative cut through him sharper than when he’d faced eternal isolation and loneliness growing up. At least then he’d known he was the only person he had to worry about in the world. He’d jumped from state to state, taking up random jobs, learning as much about the world as he could in an effort to experience life at its fullest, but Blair had somehow forged the kind of connection he was so determined to avoid all these years. To be in the world, but not of the world. Two days. That was all it’d taken for her to present the greatest puzzle he’d faced, and the thought of not seeing how the game they’d started ended grated against every fiber of his being.
He was going to find her. He was going to take her home.
Colson penetrated the tree line.
A fist slammed into his face. “Well, well, well. Isn’t this a surprise?”
He hit the ground, and the flashlight disappeared into the underbrush. Sharp pain stung at the base of his neck as his attacker drew away, and the world tilted on its axis. Twigs and rocks bit into his palms as he craned his head up at the dark outline above him. Smaller than he expected. Female? Blood mixed with rain and spread across his tongue in a sharp bite of copper and salt. Wiping at his mouth, he pushed to his feet. Dark clothing, black boots. It was impossible to tell who was under the mask, but Colson didn’t give a shit about that right now. He pressed one hand into his neck and raised his weapon with the other. “What… What did you do? Where is Blair?”
A trill of laughter drowned the sound of rain patter around them and chased a shiver down his spine. His attacker cocked her head to one side. “Sometimes the best revenge is letting the other person destroy themselves, don’t you think?”
Colson blinked against the slight distortion in his vision. He stepped forward and centered the barrel of the gun over her chest. Her voice… It was too low, unbalanced. Pulling his hand away, he spotted blood on his fingertips. He slipped his finger over the trigger. The rain struck too loud in his ears. His heart worked overtime, trying to keep up as his breathing shallowed. He swayed on his feet. Something was wrong. “You drugged me. Is that what you did to Blair, too? You ambushed her along the trail. She couldn’t fight back, so she escaped and ran for these trees.”
Colson shook his head as though the simple gesture would clear the fog closing in. He stumbled back a step. Uneven terrain caught on his heels, but he’d fight as long as it took to find the sheriff. “There weren’t any traces of drugs in Rachel Faulkner’s toxicology report. Drugging Blair wasn’t your plan. She must’ve gotten too close. She must’ve seen something out here she wasn’t supposed to. It was the maintenance shed, wasn’t it? The one you’re breeding ruby-eyed green pit vipers and strychnine trees inside. You couldn’t afford risking all your hard work. So you drugged her, zip tied her. Only she got the best of you.”
A bubble of laughter escaped up his throat.
“My, aren’t we observant.” Her voice softened—or did it harden?—as she stepped in close. “But since neither of you can play your assigned roles, it looks like I’m going to have to take care of you, too.”
Colson raised his gaze and straightened to his full height. “There’s just one problem with your plan.” A surge of clarity cleared his vision, and he shot one hand out. He gripped the suspect’s clothing and wrenched her into him. “You didn’t calibrate the dose for my size.”
Faster than he thought possible, the woman behind the mask slammed a fist into his kidney. Once. Twice. Three times. Pain lightninged through his torso and punched the oxygen from his lungs. His grip loosened from her clothing, and she slipped out of his hold. Colson collapsed onto his knees, and she took the perfect opportunity to rocket a right hook into his temple. He hit the ground a second time, more disoriented than ever.
Her boots solidified in his vision as a groan of pain escaped past his mouth. “And you didn’t account for mine.”
Notes of a feminine detail wound through her voice, interlaced with the deep baritone brought on by the drug. Colson swept her legs out from under her and brought her down to his level. The hard thud of her body vibrated through him a split second before she rolled out of reach. He struggled to his feet. Another wake of dizziness unbalanced him enough he fell against the nearest tree. Where the hell was she? He scanned the woods, followed her tracks into the shadows.
The way she moved, the way she’d targeted his kidney… This wasn’t a social media influencer who spent countless hours in front of a screen. Not even the police officers he’d worked with could move that fast. No, she was something else. Something predatorial. Holding onto his side, Colson struggled to maintain his balance as the drug strangled his nervous system. Whoever’d killed Rachel Faulkner—whoever’d ambushed Blair—had trained for this, had planned it from the beginning. Dangerous. They might’ve recovered Cardin Townsend’s blood and vehicle at the trailhead, but that didn’t prove she’d been the one behind the wheel. The drag marks. He should’ve put it together before now, but whatever she’d injected him with had started attacking his brain’s processes. “Cardin Townsend was never a suspect, was she? You took advantage of the public fight between her and Rachel Faulkner and let the sheriff’s department run with the lead. Those drag marks leading up the north trail are hers. You killed her then you used her SUV to drag her out here and dispose of her body, the same way you disposed of Rachel’s.”
Movement filtered through the trees, separate from the constant tick of rain against leaves and branches. The weight of the killer’s gaze settled over his sternum. A predator closing in, just as ruby-eyed green pit vipers ambushed their prey. “Beauty and brains. I’m impressed, but it won’t be enough to save you or the sheriff.”
The voice tendrilled through the trees, coming from the right. No, the left. Blair was still out here, and she was counting on him to have her back. Colson dug his fingers into the center of his palms, fighting back the tingling in his hands. While the dose of whatever she’d injected him with hadn’t been enough to set him on his ass, it sure as hell slowed him down. She was right before. He hadn’t accounted for her size. He couldn’t afford any more mistakes. He had to keep her talking. It was the only way to gauge her position. Colson swiped a thin sheet of water from his face. His head throbbed. She was toying with him, drawing out the seconds into minutes, cutting his chances of getting to Blair. “Tell me where Blair is.”
“Where’s the fun in that?” she asked. “No, I think you and I are going to get to know each other better.”
A shift of shadows was all the warning he had before she lunged from the trees. His attacker rammed her shoulder into his gut, and they fell in a tangled clump of limbs and fists together. She straddled him. Explosive pain radiated through his midsection as she hauled her knee into his gut. Colson threw a fist, thrusting her head to one side.
Stillness wrapped around him as she rubbed at her face. “That wasn’t very nice.”
He hiked his legs around her front and used every last ounce of strength he had left to pin her to the ground. Securing her head between both thighs, he squeezed. Her fingers dug into his jeans as her wide eyes begged for relief from beneath the mask. Too dark to denote the color. She clawed at his chest. His voice graveled. “Where is she?”