Stranded

CHAPTER 1

    OUTSIDE MANHATTAN, KANSAS
    OFF INTERSTATE 70
    MONDAY, MARCH 18
    He was still alive.
    That was all he needed to think about. That, and to keep on running.
    Noah could smell his own sweat, pungent and sour … and urine. He still couldn’t believe he’d pissed himself.
    Stop thinking. Just run. Run!
    And vomit. He’d thrown up, splattering the front of his shirt. He had the taste in his mouth. His stomach threatened more but he couldn’t afford to slow down. How could he slow down with Ethan’s screams echoing inside his head?
    Stop screaming. Please stop
.
    “I won’t tell. I promise I won’t tell.”
    Noah’s lips were moving even as he ran. Without realizing it, he was chanting the words in rhythm with the pounding of his feet.
    “Won’t tell, won’t tell. I promise.”
    Pathetic. So very pathetic
.
    How could he just run away and leave his friend? He was sucha coward. But that admission didn’t slow him down. Nor did it make him glimpse over his shoulder. Right this minute he was too scared to care how pathetic he was.
    Suddenly his forehead slammed into a branch. A
whop
and
thump
.
    Noah staggered but stayed on his feet. His vision blurred. His head pulsed with pain.
    Don’t fall down, damn it! Keep moving. Run, just run
.
    His feet obeyed despite the dizzy spiral swimming inside his head threatening to throw him off balance. It was so dark, too dark to see anything other than shades of gray and black. Moonlight flickered patches of light. It only contributed to the feeling of vertigo. This time he ran with his hands and arms thrashing in front of him, trying to clear the path. He used them as battering rams, making sure he didn’t slam into another low-hanging branch.
    Twigs continued to whip and slash at him. Noah felt new trickles down his face and elbows and knew it was blood. It mixed with sweat and stung his eyes. His tongue could taste it on his lips. And his stomach lurched again because he knew some of the blood was
not
his own.
    Oh God, oh God. Ethan, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. Don’t stop
.
    Don’t look back. Can’t help Ethan. It’s too late. Just run
.
    But still, his mind replayed the events in short choppy fragments. They should never have rolled down the car window. Too much beer. Too cocky.
    Too frickin’ stupid!
    They’d spent the first weekend of spring break partying before they went home. They hadn’t been on the road long and Ethan hadto take a piss. Now Ethan was dead. If he wasn’t dead, he’d soon be wishing he was.
    Noah’s lungs burned. His legs ached. He had no clue what direction he was running. Nothing mattered except to run away as far and as fast as he could. But the woods were thick with knee-high brush. The canopy above swallowed the sky, except for those rare streaks of moonlight showing him glimpses of the rocky ground beneath his feet, jagged mounds that threatened to make him stumble.
    And then he did trip.
    Can’t fall, can’t fall. Please don’t let me fall
.
    He tried to catch himself, arms flailing like an out of control windmill. He went down hard. His knees thudded against a rock. Elbows were next. Skin scraping. Pain shot through his limbs and still his mind was screaming at him to get up. But his legs wouldn’t obey this time. And suddenly he heard a snap and rustle, soft and subtle.
    No, it wasn’t possible. It was just his imagination.
    Now footsteps. Someone coming behind him. The crunch of leaves. More twigs and branches snapped and crackled.
    No. Not possible
.
    He had told Noah that if he didn’t tell, he’d let him go. Noah had promised. And so had the madman.
    Footsteps. Close now. Too close to be his imagination.
    Why isn’t he letting me go? He promised
.
    And why in the world did he ever believe a madman?
    But he seemed so ordinary when he knocked on their car window.
    Somehow Noah picked himself up. Wobbled and ignored the pain. Demanded his legs move. He limped at first. Then started tojog. Pushed harder. A
chuff-chuff
exploded from his mouth. His lungs were on fire.
    Faster
.
    Tears streaked down his face. A high-pitched whine pierced his ears. It echoed through the trees. A wounded animal or one ready to attack? It didn’t matter. Nothing could hurt him as much as the animal chasing him.
    Should never have rolled down the car window. Damn it, Ethan!
    “Who’s going first?” the madman had asked with a smile that looked almost gentle and insane at the same time. So calm but with eyes of a wolf.
    Oh