He turned in her direction, and his face was different now. Furious and intent.
But the moment’s distraction had been enough. Chanel pulled away from him, crying in fear.
“Go!” May shouted. “Run!”
Looking around in panic, May realized there was nowhere for her to run. Nowhere that he could not easily outrun her.
With a terrified shriek, Chanel turned and plunged into the lake, swimming away from him.
She swam like an Olympic athlete, fear giving her strength. He threw down the ropes and ran after her, his feet slipping in the mud as he raced along the lakeside. Then he leaped into the water, heading out toward her.
“No!” May screeched. She didn’t hesitate. Reaching the lake, she launched herself into the water and swam with all her might toward him.
He was a better runner than swimmer. Or perhaps it was the heavy boots he was wearing. She managed to catch his foot, clinging onto that solid boot. She held on with all her might, but he kicked out viciously.
She was flung away, tumbling through the water, coughing. The impact slammed her against the side of the raft.
And then, with an angry snarl, he turned back toward her. He grabbed her, his hands tightening in her hair.
May only had a moment to draw in a breath before the killer attacked her, pushing her down, forcing her head under the clear, cold waters of the lake.
His hands felt like steel. May struggled for all she was worth. He was going to drown her. She had been right to suspect him. And now she would die.
He was going to kill her unless, somehow, she could stop him. But she was running out of air, and she knew if she wasn’t able to fight him off in the next few moments, she would have to take in a breath, and would drown.
CHAPTER THIRTY ONE
Always do the unexpected.
Those words of good advice suddenly came back to May’s panicked and oxygen-starved brain. Kerry had been the master at that. If you fought with Kerry, best you had backup plans B, C, and D for when she managed to shock you with something that should not actually have been possible.
It was time for May to take that good advice, and save her life, because otherwise, that iron hand would keep her underwater. Both she and Chanel would die.
Instead of struggling away, she flung herself toward the man, grabbing for his legs. His arms squeezed her tighter, and their bodies rolled together in the water. Hoping to surprise and knock him off-balance, she locked her hands around his thigh, digging her fingers in as hard as she could. She punched him in the back of the knee with her other hand, hoping to find a pressure point, praying for a miracle.
He flinched, staggered, and his grip loosened. She pulled away. And suddenly, she was back up to the surface.
May gasped in a breath. Then she started choking and coughing. But she was alive.
She kicked out at him viciously, wanting to reinforce the small advantage she’d obtained.
However, he wasn’t fighting her. Not anymore. Instead, he was rushing to shore, and as she watched, he sprinted up the path toward the cabin.
It was not a far way to go, and she knew what he was seeking. He was going to get the shotgun that she’d seen propped against the wall by the door. He was going to destroy her, fast and efficiently. She wouldn’t be able to get to him before he got to his shotgun, and her own gun was lying somewhere in the woods. She had nothing to fight him with. And she needed to get Chanel to a safer place somehow. That was a priority, before he came back with the gun.
Where was Chanel?
Looking around frantically, May saw she’d swum back to shore, a good distance away.
“Wait!” May screeched. Her voice was barely audible. Drenched vocal cords. She tried again.
“Chanel!” she yelled.
This time, she heard.
Chanel turned, her eyes wide with fear and desperation, her hair dripping onto her face, her shirt clinging to her body, her jeans water-stained.
May scrambled from the water. Her clothes were soaking wet. She ran to Chanel, feeling as if her legs were wobbly and didn’t belong to her at all. “Come with me. We need to hide somewhere safe.”