The Deadly Series

Chapter 5

Isabella had to walk sideways as Joe held her close to his side but slightly in front of him as a shield. He pushed her along with caution, his eyes darting around, into every nook, every alley along both sides of the street, even on the rooftops, as if someone might be watching them or looking for them.

After a block or so, Isabella felt the warmth of the sun on her face and closed her eyes to savor the moment. Her mind strayed when a fresh breeze with a lingering sent of clover wafted past, and she took a deep breath. Ah, fresh air. It smelled so good and felt wonderful as it ruffled through her hair.

Another sharp jab in her ribs brought tears to her eyes and back to reality. When she turned her nose away from his face for a clean breath of air, he jammed the gun harder into her side, which made her wince in pain.

"Come on. Move it!" He dragged her along. "I'll be glad to get rid of you, that's for sure. I never had one like you give me so damn much trouble."

She watched his eyes leave her face looking beyond her. The corners of his disgusting mouth turned up into a smile. "Well, look here, and right on ti-" he muttered, his hold on her arm relaxing but then retightened.

He looked away from her while his hold loosened once again. When he didn't turn to look back at her right away, she chanced a glance. She wanted to see what made him smile without drawing his attention. Keeping her head still, she moved her eyes to the side. A sleek, shiny black limousine made its way toward them.

"Oh, s**t," Joe mumbled as he pulled her into nearby bushes at the entrance into the park.

She looked up in time to see a police car pulling in at the curb right behind the limo. Joe stared back and forth between the limo and the cops. He slackened his hold on her arm a little more each time his attention lapsed until he had let go of her arm completely. He started to cross the street toward the limo.

And then it happened. Joe wasn't even halfway to the limo when it suddenly started to move. It moved ahead and turned the corner and left, the police car following close behind, leaving Joe left standing in the middle of the street, his hands held out to the sides.

As soon as Joe left her side, Isabella saw her window of opportunity open, and expand. And she captured it.

No way was she going to run to the cops for help. She had to depend on herself for survival. If her father had done that, he would probably still be alive today. There were just too many dirty cops, and she couldn't trust nay of them. Not anymore.

She took off running for some woods on her right side. She ran, trying to be as quiet as possible so no one would hear her while hoping to get a good head start. It felt great to be running again, but because she had been lying around for so many days, her lungs and leg muscles soon began to burn, to cramp. She slowed down, slouched behind a tree, and took in big gulps of air while clutching at the stitch of pain in her side. She sank to the ground, listened for and heard the sounds of trampling brush behind her.

She heard Joe hollering to Amanda. "She went ov'r here, this way. We hafta find the b***h before she gets away. Hurry up! Boss is gonna kill us if we lose her."

Isabella knew she had to run and keep on running in order to get away, no matter what. She didn't know where she was or where she was going but she wasn't going to let them catch her, not this time. She began running in the opposite direction of the sound of their voices, crawling and jumping, scrambling over and under fallen trees, shrubs, and bushes. Her shirt caught on a bush and ripped along the side, but she kept running. She fell, tearing her pants in the knees, but she didn't care. She scrambled up and started running. Her lungs burned, and her side felt about to split. She was unable to take a deep breath. She kept running.

Eventually she slowed her pace and listened to the sounds behind her. The sounds were farther away, but she could still hear twigs shattering under stomping feet.

Exhaustion began to set into her tired, burning muscles. Her mouth pursed tightly as her tongue swept her dry mouth. She could barely swallow. She felt as if she had been running for hours.

The sun began to set, casting ominous shadows through the tall trees. She didn't want to have to spend the night in the woods. She would have to find somewhere to hide-soon.

She reached down deep within herself for more strength, took a cleansing breath, and began running, this time setting a slower pace.

She glanced up from the path and thought she saw a dim light. Tired, she thought her imagination was playing tricks on her. She slowed down and, wiping the sweat running down her face on her sleeve, drew in a couple of deep breaths. Again, she looked and the light remained-like a beacon in the night-the promise of civilization. She stumbled toward it.

As she got closer, she saw the light coming from a long, narrow, horizontal window on the end wall of a huge house located in a large clearing. She searched the side away from the woods, found a door and turned the knob. Damn! Locked.

She poked around in the grass surrounding the concrete pad outside the door for a key or a wire, hairpin, anything she could use to jimmy the lock. She picked up a thin sharp stick, jabbed it into the key hole, and jiggled it back and forth. Nothing! She pulled the broken stick out and retried the door. It wouldn't budge. There has to be a way through this damn door!

She ran her fingers along the doorjamb but only the knob protruded out. She looked behind her, running her shaking fingers through her hair. She patted herself across her chest, her back and front pockets of her pants, searching for anything, anything at all. She felt a poke in her underarm, thinking it a stick, she absentmindedly reached to pull it out and found the underwire of her very-worn bra sticking out. Voila! For once, it paid to have large boobs.

She quickly pulled out the wire. She put the smaller end into the lock and jiggled it up, down, and around with both her hands. She felt something move. Saying a quick prayer, she turned the door knob and pushed. She fell forward into the house onto her bruised and bleeding elbows and knees.

Ouch!

She jumped up, closed the door softly, and locked the deadbolt, trying not to make any noise. She turned around, with her back to the door, and sank to the floor. While taking in big gulps of air, as quietly as possible, she listened for any sounds coming from inside the house. Her heart pounding in her ears was deafening. She wiped her brow with her torn sleeve and closed her eyes as she rested her head on her bent knees and tried to catch her breath.

She didn't want to disturb anyone, or announce an intruder. She especially didn't want anyone calling the police for breaking and entering, not after what happened to her father. She didn't know who she could or couldn't trust, and until she did, she would be on her own. Who knew? Maybe the cops were involved in this somehow. She hoped the house was empty so she could hide from everyone until she could figure out on her own what to do next.

Free at last, at least away from her so-called friend Amanda and her cohorts. A shudder ran through her as she thought of where she had been held, shaking her head, clearing it of the past lingering thoughts, she wondered when and how she would be able to pick up the pieces of her mangled life.

Gazing around the room, Isabella saw a child's bedroom with two single beds, some toys between them on the floor, and a dollhouse similar to the one she had played with as a child. Below the long window and between two beds sat a dresser with a lamp on top, which spread the light leading her to this house. She immediately turned off the lamp so no one else could see it from the woods as she had.

She fell to her knees looking around for a place to hide. Lifting up the comforter, she looked under the beds, but they were boxed all the way to the floor. She looked around the room again. There wasn't any closet, only one other door leading into the rest of the house. What i***t would build a big house like this without a closet in a bedroom?

No, no place to hide in this room, not under either of the beds, not in the nonexistent closet, not behind any long drapes. Nowhere!