Pushing to her feet she gathered her courage and prepared to make her move.
As a doctor she knew his most vulnerable spots. His eyes. The base of the throat. Then, of course, there was always the old reliable scrotum.
Another deep breath.
As she ex haled that lungful of air she cried out at the top of her lungs.
She doubled over, moaned and cried, summoning her most painful memories in an effort to make it sound real.
The door burst in ward.
“What the hell is wrong with you?”
Elizabeth wailed again, held her stomach as if the pain were so intense she could do nothing else.
He grabbed her by the arm and tried to pull her up. “I said, what’s wrong with you, bitch?”
“God, I don’t know.” She moaned long and low.
He slung the rifle over his shoulder. “Stand up where I can look at you.”
“Ohhhhhh!” With that savage cry she came up with her hand, stabbed the key to her Lexus into his right eye. He screamed.
His grip on her arm tightened.
She tried to get free.
Couldn’t.
His fingers wrenched her arm painfully. The keys flew across the floor.
“Don’t move!” He held his left hand over his eye. But he kept her close with the other. “I could kill you!” he snarled like a wounded animal.
Her heart thudded so hard she couldn’t draw in a breath. She had to get loose.
Then she remembered her one other weapon.
Her free hand went into her pocket. Her fingers curled around the ink pen.
There was only one way to get away from this man.
She reared her arm back and brought it down hard, shoving the ink pen into the soft tissue at the base of his throat.
He released her. Grabbed at his throat as he frantically gasped for air.
She bolted for the door.
He grabbed her by the waist.
She screamed, tried to twist free.
His weight slammed into her back and they went down together.
She landed in a sprawl on the floor with him atop her.
His fingers curled around her throat. She tried to buck him off. Tried to roll. But he was too heavy. Horrible gasping sounds came from his throat as he struggled to get air past the hole she’d made. Blood soaked into the neck of his T-shirt, dripped down his cheek.
The pres sure on her throat cut off her air way. She bucked and gasped. Pulled at his arms. No good.
Blackness swam before her eyes.
Desperate, she clawed at his face. At his injured eye and then at his throat.
He howled and fell off her.
She scrambled away from him. Clambered to her feet and raced to ward the door.
She didn’t slow or look back until she was out of the small house and on the street.
Hysteria slammed into her full throttle. She stood in the middle of the street and turned all the way around. Where was she?
The drive had been hours long. She’d dozed off once. She had no idea where she was.
Her gaze landed on a vehicle up the street and she ran in that direction until she could make out the license plate. New Jersey.
The Gar den State.
New Jersey?
The air raging in and out of her lungs, she stood there and tried to think. Avenue A. She’d heard that location mentioned. Ware house.
A phone. She needed a phone—911. Help. She needed help.
The low drone of an automobile engine sounded behind her. She spun around and her heart leaped. Help!
She ran to ward the car. Waved her arms frantically. “Help me! I need the police!”
The car sped forward, hurried past her. The elderly female driver stared wide-eyed at her.
“Help!” Elizabeth cried once more.
It was no use. The woman drove away as fast as she could. Elizabeth looked down at her self then. Blood was smeared on the front of her pale blue blouse. Her hair was likely disheveled. No wonder the woman didn’t stop.
Panic slid around her throat like a noose. A crashing sound had her pivoting to ward the door of the house she’d escaped.
The sound hadn’t come from there.
Thank God.
A phone. She pushed the hair back from her face. Concentrate, Elizabeth. She needed a phone.
She rushed to ward the next house. There wasn’t a vehicle in the drive way. Please, please let someone be home.
Balling her bloody fist she banged on the door. “Is any one home?” She banged harder. “Please, I need to use your phone. It’s an emergency. Please.”
No one was home. If they were, fear kept them from answering the door.
She rushed back out to the street, looked both ways for a drive way with a car in it.
There had to be someone home, car or no car.
Elizabeth rushed from house to house, pounded on door after door.
Finally a door opened. An elderly man stood on the opposite side of the thresh old.
“Can’t you read?” he groused.
Elizabeth blinked, uncertain what he meant. She tried to calm her respiration. Tried to make her self think rationally.
“See!” He tapped a sign hanging next to his door.
No solicitation.
“No!” She stepped into the path of the closing door. “I need help. I need the police.”
He seemed to really look at her then. Blinked behind the thick lenses of his glasses.