It was much colder than she had anticipated.
She realized that the moment she stepped out of her car. Of course the overlook was at a much higher elevation than the town of Drakeland where she’d spent the night. The sun was up, but it was obscured by clouds that shrouded the mountain peaks.
A twenty-mile run up here would be a challenge.
As she went through her stretching routine, she assessed the conditions. Although cold, it was a perfect day for running. There was negligible wind. In the surrounding forest, only the uppermost branches of the trees were stirred by the breeze.
Her breath formed a plume of vapor that fogged up her sunglasses, so she pulled the funnel neck of her running jacket up over her mouth and nose as she consulted her map one final time.
The parking lot accommodated tourists who came for the nearby overlook. It also served as the hub for numerous hiking trails that radiated from it like the spokes of a wheel before branching off into winding paths that crisscrossed the crest of the mountain. The names of the particular trails were printed on arrow-shaped signposts.
She located the trail she’d chosen after carefully reviewing the map of the national park and researching it further online. She welcomed a challenge, but she wasn’t foolhardy. If she wasn’t certain she could make it to her turnaround point and back, she wouldn’t be attempting it. Rather than being daunted by the inhospitable terrain, she was eager to take it on.
She locked her duffel bag in the trunk of her car and buckled on her fanny pack. Then she adjusted her headband, zeroed the timer on her wristwatch, pulled on her gloves, and set out.
Chapter 2
Emory came awake gradually but didn’t open her eyes, fearing that admitting light would make the excruciating headache worse. It had jarred her out of a deep sleep with pains so piercing it was as though a nail gun were being used inside her skull. She was hearing a noise not ordinarily heard in her bedroom, but even her curiosity wasn’t enough to embolden her to lift her eyelids.
In addition to the sharp pains inside her head, her right foot was throbbing constantly. She’d run too hard on it this morning.
The aroma of food was making her queasy.
Why was she smelling food in her bedroom, when it and the kitchen were on opposite sides of the house? Whatever Jeff was cooking— Jeff didn’t cook.
Her eyes sprang open, and, when met with nothing she recognized, she sat bolt upright.
The alien scene before her blurred and spun. Scalding bile gushed into her throat. She barely managed to choke it down before spewing it. Dizziness thrust her back down onto the pillow, which she realized wasn’t her pillow.
And the man looming at the side of the bed wasn’t Jeff.
She blurted, “Who are you?”
He came a step closer.
“Stay away from me!” She held up her hand, palm out, although she had no chance of fighting him off. She was as weak as a newborn. He was a giant.
But on her command, he stayed where he was. “Don’t be afraid of me. I’m not going to hurt you.”
“Who are you? Where am I?”
“You’re safe.”
That remained to be seen. Her breaths were short and quick, and her heart was pounding. She willed herself to calm down, knowing that panicking wouldn’t benefit her.
“How do you feel?” His voice was low and rusty, as though he hadn’t used it in a while.
She just stared at him, trying to piece together the disjointed stimuli and form an explanation of where she was and why she was here.
“How’s your head?” He hitched his chin up.
Tentatively she felt the area indicated and groaned when her fingertips touched a knot behind her left ear. It was like she’d struck a mallet to a gong, sending waves of pain through her head. Her hair was sticky and matted with blood, and her fingers came away stained red. She noticed blood on the pillowcase.
“What happened to me?”
“You don’t remember?”
Her mind backtracked. “I remember running. Did I fall?”
“I thought maybe you could tell me.”
She was about to shake her head, but the motion made her ill and caused another sunburst of pain. “How did I get here?”
“I’d been watching you through binoculars.”
He’d been watching her through binoculars? She disliked the sound of that. “From where?”
“A ridge on another peak. But I lost track of you and thought I should check it out. I found you lying unconscious, picked you up, brought you here.”
“Where is here?”
He made a motion with his hand, inviting her to see for herself.
Every movement of her head meant a fresh agony, but she pushed herself up onto her elbows. After giving the vertigo several moments to subside, she took in her surroundings, specifically looking for a possible means of escape should one become necessary.
There were four windows. Only one door. Only one room, in fact.
The bed on which she lay occupied a corner of it. A screen of louvered panels, probably meant to separate the sleeping area from the rest of the room, had been folded flat and propped against the wall, which was constructed of split logs.