CHAPTER THIRTY
Watching the appalling sight playing out twenty yards in front of her, May knew there was no more time for stealth. All she could do now was startle Josh Evans and hope to buy enough time to get closer.
"Stop!" she screamed. Pulling out her gun, she rushed forward.
She hoped that, in the fraction of a second that he was caught off guard, she could get close enough to shoot him before he killed Cassandra. In this light, and at this distance, she was still too far away.
She saw Josh turn his head, startled. He hesitated and she knew that pause would give her the split-second she needed.
Frantically, she powered forward, her heart hammering, her brain calculating distances. She knew it was now or never. She had to take him down before he had time to react.
As she did so, she felt a rush of adrenaline, of emotional power that gave her wings. At this moment, she found the strength within her to stay calm. Whatever it took, she had to save the girl.
May's finger tightened on the trigger. Now, she was close enough to be sure of hitting him.
But, as she prepared to shoot him, he scooped up the unconscious girl, holding her in front of him like a shield.
May stumbled to a stop, gasping in shock.
He still held the knife, and now, May saw, it was aimed at Cassandra’s jugular.
"Drop your gun!" he yelled. "Now!"
This was a shocking twist, and May had no idea what to do. The unconscious woman was an effective shield. No way could she dare to shoot now. And that knife could be in her throat in a moment.
This was a confrontation she didn't know how to handle.
"Put the knife down," she ordered, hoping she sounded calm. She was playing for time. May knew she somehow had to get closer.
"I'm a police officer. Put the knife down," she repeated.
"Drop that gun!" He yelled the words out, his eyes flashing with anger. "You'll regret it if you don't. I'll slice her neck open."
May knew she was dealing with someone who was not just a psychopath, but also clearly deranged. Cassandra’s life was at stake. The wrong decision would mean she died in a heartbeat.
"Drop it!" he screamed again. The knife flashed in the air and May gasped. She couldn't help it. That blade was vicious and cruel. One cut could kill his victim. Imagine if that happened while she watched?
Of course, there was no guarantee he wouldn't kill her anyway. Whether or not May was holding her gun.
Her legs felt like water. This was an impossible situation, and she realized with a sense of doom that he held the advantage.
May stared at him, wondering what to do. She saw the rage, the fear, and the desperation. She saw the knife at Cassandra's vulnerable neck.
In this tense situation, the one thing she thought would be helpful was to buy some time. If she bought a few seconds by dropping her weapon, perhaps she could use that to her advantage.
May knew she had no choice but to let go of the gun.
Quivering all over, she bent down and placed her pistol on the grass. Her heart seemed to thud down there along with it. How could she have been so stupid? She had walked right into the path of the killer, and now he was holding all the aces.
How could she save Cassandra now?
He was in control, and May knew he was incapable of any true concern for another human being.
He was watching her closely, with the knife still touching Cassandra’s neck. It was eerily quiet. May had the sense that her life was about to change forever.
"I'm not stupid," he said. "Not like the cops. I know I can't keep the girl. But I've got you now, and I'm not letting you go," he said. He raised his head and looked at her, his eyes gleaming.
"You're coming with me," he said softly. "And if you don't, the girl dies."
She saw death in his eyes. Her heartbeat was pounding like a drum in her ears. Her skin was tingling, her muscles tense. Time seemed to be stretching, like elastic.
And then, he let go of Cassandra. She slumped to the ground.
And, wielding the knife, he leaped at her.
He was deranged, and this situation was so impossible, so far beyond anything she had ever imagined, that she felt like she was in a nightmare.
May reacted instinctively.
With no time to pick up her gun from the dark grass where it had been dropped, she lunged toward him, closing the distance between them in an instant.
She grabbed his wrist, her fingers tightening around his knife hand, feeling shocked by how powerful and strong he was.
She felt him struggle against her as he tried to swing the knife blade around in her direction. Thinking fast, May thrust out with her right hand and rammed her fingers into his throat.
He let out a choking gasp, but she didn’t do as much damage as she’d hoped for. He was strong, and he reacted quickly.
Then he spun around and, in a move that she barely had time to anticipate, he smashed a punch at her chin.
She managed to jackknife sideways, but not far enough, and he gave her a glancing blow. It was painful and jarring, and she almost lost her balance. She flew backward in shock. He lunged forward, grabbed her by the neck, slammed her against a tree trunk, and held the knife to her throat.
May clawed at his hand, desperate to free herself.
But his fingers were strong and cruel.