Free The Lost Girls of Johnson's Bayou by Jana DeLeon

through the swamp and Paul picked up the pace. She held the book up to protect her face as she ran, and the brush tore at the bare skin on her arms. At one point, she heard the sound of cloth ripping, but there was no time to think about it.
    Her thighs and calves burned from the exertion, and her breathing grew labored every second that they continued at full speed. Sheer adrenaline kept her pushing forward, and she knew that if she lived to see tomorrow, her body would make sure she paid for the abuse. Just as she wondered how much longer she could sustain the pace, they burst into a clearing that contained a tiny, rundown cabin.
    The moon cleared a patch of clouds and cast a dim glow around the cabin as Paul ran for the truck that was parked on the side. He paused only long enough to retrieve keys from under the wheel well and jumped inside. Bewildered, Ginny jumped into the passenger’s side of the truck, and a second later Paul tore out of the clearing down a narrow path to town.
    “Stay down,” he said.
    The words hadn’t quite finished leaving his mouth when Ginny heard the cracking of glass. Immediately, she slumped in her seat and looked up to see a small hole in the back windshield of the truck, not even an inch from where her head had been only moments before.
    Paul crouched so low in his seat that Ginny worried he could even see where he was going. She heard another pop and saw a second hole appear. She slid down until she rested on the floorboard, praying that Paul wouldn’t wreck the truck on his way out of the swamp. Her heart pounded so loudly in her chest that she felt it would burst.
    “Hold on!” Paul said as he made a sharp right-hand turn.
    Ginny dropped the book on the floorboard and clutched the seat, struggling to keep from falling from the momentum of the turn.
    “You can get up,” Paul said once they were going straight again.
    Ginny crawled up on the seat and let her breath out with a whoosh. Her pulse raced and she took several deep breaths, trying to calm her nervous system.
    “Are you all right?” Paul asked. “Do you have any injuries?”
    “No,” Ginny said. “Scratches from running through the swamp, but nothing serious except for the heart attack I may have when I’m able to process everything that just happened.”
    Paul placed his hand on hers and gave it a squeeze. “If you’re able to make a joke, you’re a lot stronger than you realize. Most people wouldn’t have been able to handle this as well.”
    Ginny felt a bit proud at Paul’s words. She’d never considered herself particularly brave or strong. Average had been her own assessment, but maybe Paul was right. Maybe she had untapped strength resting just under the surface.
    “Thank you,” she said, “but if it takes being shot at to show my strength, I think I’ll just go back to normal.”
    Paul frowned. “I’m afraid your life isn’t going to return to normal until we figure out what’s going on here. Whoever shot at us was either anticipating you visiting the house and staking it out or was following us. I was very watchful. I don’t think he followed us there.”
    “I shouldn’t have gone back to the house. Now, he thinks I remember something, and I don’t.”
    “He already thought you remembered something, or he wouldn’t have been waiting. I’m sorry, Ginny, but you would have been in danger even if you hadn’t gone to the house. He was already watching you, or he wouldn’t have broken into your apartment and read your journal. Something in your behavior must have changed and caused him to pay closer attention to you.”
    “But he escalated because we went to the house. Maybe if I’d stopped journaling my thoughts about the house and hidden my feelings, he would have gone away, like he has for the past sixteen years.”
    Paul was silent, and Ginny knew he was thinking about what she’d said. “Hey, I didn’t mean for you to feel guilty,” she said. “I was already going to the house