Page 62 of Arran's Obsession
I stopped dead.
My heart beat loud in my ears. That had been a footstep, I was certain. Not a scurrying rodent or a bird, but a heavy foot coming down. I’d been followed. Surely there was no one else out here in the trees. If it were Arran, he’d call out.
Terror gripped me. To my right was a large oak tree. Holding my breath, I crept around it, trying desperately not to make a sound. At the far side, I sank down with my back to the trunk. Night stared back at me from the forest.
I strained to listen. My imagination in the dark had always been a terrible thing, and I’d been wrong when I’d told Arran that I didn’t mind it so much outdoors. That was limited to the city where streetlights or my scooter’s headlamp chased away shadows. There was nothing out here. Not even the moon penetrated the thick cover of leaves overhead.
It was just shades of black and grey, and the cushion of forest floor underneath. Tree trunks were spectres. Falling leaves were evil things.
For a minute, nothing happened. No more footsteps. Nothing beyond the sound of my breathing and my pulse.
So badly, I wanted to activate my phone’s torch, but I wasn’t sure how far I’d come into the woods and whether Arran’s visitor would be able to see me. More, it would make me a sitting duck, highlighted for anyone out there.
A twig cracked the other side of my tree.
Oh God. My fright crested, and I shook, my teeth chattering. I wrapped my arm around my legs to make myself as small as possible, my other hand still covering my mouth so I didn’t scream.
Another crunch, closer again.
He’d found me, whoever the stranger was. He’d killed Arran and followed me. My brain offered up the only logical solution. And…it infuriated me. How dare he?
My shaking fingers were at my throat, and I found myself holding Mum’s necklace which Arran had retrieved for me. If she was watching over me, I hoped she wasn’t about to witness my end.
A short sound of breath came from my right, and I lifted my terrified gaze right as a body came into sight.
A pale face.
Dark eyes.
A deer trotted past on the forest floor.
A deer? I collapsed down, taking deep pulls of the air I’d starved myself of, my heart nearly giving out. Fucking hell on a handcart. Christ above. That had been the worst few minutes of my life.
I stood, and the creature spotted me and took off silently into the trees. Bloody thing. It managed to move quietly enough that second time. I scowled after it and returned to the other side of the oak, setting out once more. Grumbling to myself about animals and stupid, scary woods, I plodded on.
It was a false reprieve, though. Soon enough, the sounds of the woods got to me again. Sweat pricked my brow, though it was cooler here. My senses were mixed up. I’d been wandering a while and hadn’t come across the fence Arran directed me to find.
I was very possibly lost.
For a moment, I stopped. Then I risked taking my phone from my shorts pocket and activating the map. It didn’t load, not enough signal for what I needed. I tried the compass next then realised I neither knew how to use one nor which direction I wanted to go in.
This was ridiculous. I could’ve hidden in the car or concealed myself in the rubble and acted as backup.
If he was dead when I got back, I’d kill him.
A sound of frustration burst from my lips. What should I do, just stand here waiting?
A crash sounded. Another. Regular footsteps, undoubtedly.
My breath caught, and I whirled around, right as a man emerged from the murkiest part of the trees.
Jamieson, Arran’s friend, stormed up and took my lit phone from my hands. “Put that down or you’ll give yourself away,” he commanded in a whisper.
“I’m lost,” I squeaked.
“Are ye now?”
Towing me by the elbow, he marched us through the next line of trees, and there on the other side was a small fence, encircling a patch of clearer ground with an oblong of rocks in it. Leading me over, Jamieson held up a finger. “Wait here. I’ll be back.”