Free A Circle of Time by Marisa Montes Page B

and branches snapping made Allison duck beneath a clump of bushes. She peered out in time to see a figure crash through the branches and halt a few feet away.
    In the moonlight stood a man, barefoot and shabbily clad in tattered shirt and pants. His back stooped, making him appear shorter than he was, arms dangling below his knees like those of an ape. He wheezed as he breathed. His head oscillated back and forth, scanning the clearing.
    He turned toward Allison. She bit her lip.
    The man’s head was like that of a lion: A matted mane of dark hair stuck out past his ears and fell to his shoulders. A black beard that hung below his neck covered most of his face; the rest was hidden by unkempt strands of long, dark hair. The whites of his eyes, round with emotion, stared from behind the matted strands.
    As the man turned away, something cold slithered over Allison’s bare foot. She gasped and bit her lip harder to keep from screaming. But the man whipped around and lunged toward her. Before his arms could reach her, Allison sprang up and tore into the clearing. She could hear the man’s footsteps close behind.
    â€œWait!” the man yelled. “Stop! Stop, I say. Come back!”
    The louder the man yelled, the harder Allison ran. When she reached the other side, she plunged into the woods. All the while, another voice screamed in her ear: “Run, Allison. Save me!”
    Allison stumbled through the dense cluster of branches. She tripped on roots and over logs on the forest floor. But each time she’d pick herself up and keep going. It felt as though she had been running for hours. Becky’s body was ripped and scraped and bruised, but Allison ceased to feel pain.
    She didn’t know how long she could keep Becky’s body moving. But if she was tired, the man had to be tired, too. No matter how out of condition Becky might be, the man was older and seemed to have a breathing problem. She had to keep going. Her life and Becky’s depended on it.
    Allison had no idea where she was headed or how far she had traveled that night. Nor had she any idea of how far she was from Magda’s cottage or Joshua’s cave or even the Cardona Pomales estate.
    The only thing that seemed to matter now was survival.

Chapter 12
    By the time Allison reached the edge of the forest, dawn was breaking. The terrain was rugged and dry, and she had to be careful not to trip on loose rocks. She came to a steep hillside. At the bottom of the hill, a dirt road wound along the edge of a ravine.
    Although Allison had not heard her pursuer for what seemed like over an hour, she wasn’t willing to take chances. Tired as she was, she crouched down and, half sitting, half squatting, slid down the loose dirt and gravel of the hillside. She had to get to the road. Perhaps it would lead her to a town or even back to the Cardona Pomales estate.
    Finally, Allison reached the bottom of the hill. Trembling from terror and exhaustion, she lowered her head to her knees and hugged her legs. Maybe she could take a few minutes to rest. She glanced around. She was sitting at the edge of the dirt road, exposed on all sides. This was no place to rest. About to stand, she was startled by the sound of falling rocks.
    At the top of the hill squatted the black-bearded man. He was trying to make his way down the hill. Allison scrambled onto the road and stumbled along it, trying to get away.
    â€œGirl! Stop, wait,” he yelled. “Don’t run away!”
    As Allison turned to see how close he was, she stepped on a stone in the road, twisting her ankle. Hot flares shot up her leg. She stumbled. The man was gaining on her. No time! Even if she tried to hop-limp, she could never outrun him. Allison searched around for a weapon—a stick, a rock—something to protect herself.
    Suddenly, a scream pierced the air. “Noo-ooo!”
    Joshua catapulted from the top of the hill and onto the man’s back. “Allison,