Cradling Tyler against his chest, he managed to pull out his phone and dialed 911. The call did not go through. He glanced at the upper screen.
No service.
He heard movement behind him.
She was coming.
And as he looked back Robie could see that she had a flashlight.
He ran to his left, knifed between two trees, and then ran a zigzag route toward where he knew the Pearl River was.
As a boy and then a teenager, he had sought out the serenity of the water when his father had driven him to near tears.
Now though, there would be no peace at the Pearl.
But there might be escape.
He redoubled his efforts. He had listened for but had not heard a gunshot. He prayed with all his heart that Reel was still alive. He didn’t really have a plan for going back to get her, but he knew that that was the ultimate goal. Yet he and Tyler had to survive first.
The terrain here had changed over the course of two decades, and he found himself stumbling and nearly falling time and again.
And then the clouds parted, allowing the full moon to illuminate his surroundings better.
That was good. And bad.
Good that he could see.
Bad that it would be easier for Victoria to find him and Tyler.
He had not even had time to think about the astonishing fact that his high school sweetheart was now his stepmother. Or that she had been the killer they’d been searching for this whole time.
Ordinarily, Robie would have simply attacked and killed his opponent.
But he had no weapon, a useless limb, and a two-year-old in his one good arm.
And a partner who desperately needed medical attention.
And an armed serial killer right behind him.
He cleared the last line of trees and reached the mossy, wet bank of the Pearl.
He looked left, then right, and then straight ahead. The river here was barely a hundred yards across. But as he stepped closer Robie could make out a pair of eyes just above the surface of the water glinting in the moonlight. As a native Mississippian he knew what that was.
A gator. Gators could hunt pretty much anytime, but night was when they did their real damage.
He looked behind him. The steps were growing closer. He could see shafts of her flashlight cutting through the trees.
When Victoria reached them she was going to just shoot them. He didn’t know which one of them she would kill first, him or Tyler.
He looked down at the little boy, who was shaking so badly it was like he had been plunged into Arctic waters. Robie had no idea how much emotional trauma all this had caused the two-year-old, but he knew it had to be a lot.
He took another step toward the water, drawing within a few feet of the bank. The pair of eyes slowly slid out of sight. As they did so he was able to see part of the body, including the tail. The thing was just waiting, and praying—if gators did so—that Robie would step into the water. That battle wouldn’t take long. Even with two good arms and no little boy in tow, Robie would be hard put to fight off what looked to be a full-sized gator on the blood hunt. In his current situation, it would be hopeless.
The steps behind him were growing closer.
Her voice called out. “Will, this is just delaying the inevitable. I always sized you up as being brave. Come out now and I’ll kill you first. That way you won’t have to see Ty die. That’s the best deal you’re going to get.”
Tyler now started shaking so badly that it was all Robie could do to keep hold of him.
He backed to the edge of the water. There was nowhere else to go, except into the Pearl.
So how did he want to die?
By Victoria’s bullet?
Or a gator’s bite?
He shifted Tyler to his bad arm. The pain was so awful that Robie had to clench his teeth and fight the waves of nausea that swept over him. He squatted down and picked up a fist-sized rock. Not a terribly potent weapon, but better than nothing. He hefted it in his hand. He had been an accurate passer as a high school quarterback. And though this was more shotput than pigskin he was not going to have to heave it as far.
He listened to the sounds coming from in front of him.
And also to the lapping of water behind him.
The gator apparently had no patience. If Robie would not come into the water, the gator would come onto the land to earn his dinner.
Tyler squirmed more.
“I told you not to call me that!”
“But that’s your name. It’s not Victoria. It’s Laura. A woman I loved. A woman I wanted to share my life with.”
“You’re lying. You left me.”
“I thought you didn’t want me, Laura. If your dreams were shattered, so were mine. I thought we’d be together. I really did.”
“But your father told me—”