Protector - Laurel Dewey [198]
But the parade mayhem prevented Dan from hearing her warning. Dan shoved his way through the crowd and grabbed Emily by her left arm. She jumped, startled by Dan’s sudden appearance.
“Dan!” Emily shouted in mortal fear. “Help me!”
“You fuckin’ get away from her!” Chris ordered Dan.
“You ain’t hurtin’ her no more!” Dan yelled back, trying to grab Emily.
“I said get away!” Chris shouted. With that, Chris pulled his pistol away from Emily’s side and slammed it hard against Dan’s forehead.
Dan fell to the ground, sending several parade watchers scattering. Blood poured from a deep gash on Dan’s forehead as he fought to stay conscious. “Run, Emily!” Dan yelled, almost incoherently. “Run!”
Emily bit down on Chris’ arm, causing him to release his grip. She slipped into the crowd and charged across Main Street, nearly knocking down several marchers.
Chris turned, realizing that Emily was gone. He stared at Dan, still struggling on the sidewalk and lowered his pistol, aiming at Dan’s head. “You fucking asshole!”
Jane moved within twenty feet of the scene. “Gun! He’s got a gun!” Jane screamed.
The crowd scattered. Chris holstered his pistol and followed Emily’s trail across Main Street, around the parade floats.
Jane reached Dan just as Chris bolted across the street. “Are you alright?”
“Yeah. Get help for her!”
“I am the help!” Jane yelled as she tore across Main Street.
Emily breathlessly darted over backyard fences until she reached the open meadowland that framed their Peachville house. Her youthful, agile build allowed her to stay far ahead of Chris as she tore through the tall grass and slopped through muddy inlets where the nearby lake overflowed. She was making excellent progress when she suddenly plunged waist high into a hidden pool of muck and algae. She struggled to break free, attempting to pull herself onto the slimy embankment. But each time she grabbed for a branch, it splintered and she felt backward. Emily could hear Chris fast approaching. Fighting through the deep sludge, she struggled ten feet to the left where the tall grass grew in dense clusters. She sunk into the muddy water, leaving only her face above water, camouflaged against the thick grass.
Chris rounded the corner, sloshing through the same muck that trapped Emily. He stopped dead in his tracks. His breathing was labored as sweat poured from his brow. Emily held her breath, taking care not to make a move that would send a ripple of water toward Chris. Chris started to move forward when his right foot plunged into the dark recess of the muddy inlet.
“Shit!” he yelled. Dislodging his foot, he grabbed on to a strong branch and pulled himself onto the bank. Looking around the grassy area, he decided to take off to the right, away from the mud pool.
Once he was out of sight, Emily pulled herself out of the muck and took off running in the opposite direction, toward the water tower.
Chris turned, hearing the slipslop of racing feet in the distance. He saw Emily making tracks across the meadow. “Goddamn you!” he yelled as he took off after her.
Jane came to the waterway just in time to see Chris heading toward Emily. To stay hidden from him, she opted to take a dense path that curved around the lake and then sneak around the back of the water tower.
Emily burned tracks into the soggy grass, cheating several glances back at Chris. When she reached the water tower, she stood for a second staring up at the foreboding, olive green metal ladder that led four stories up to the top of the tower. This was it, she thought to herself. This is where it all became real.
Breathlessly, she started up, becoming more terrified with each step. Turning, she saw that Chris was closing in on the tower. Panic propelled Emily up the ladder. Once she reached the top of the tower, she stole a look down. Chris was several steps up on the ladder. The hot sun beat against the metal tower, causing a profound glare. Emily pulled away from the edge and, shielding her eyes from the shimmering metal, frantically looked for anything she could throw at Chris. Spotting