Free BACKWOODS RIPPER: a gripping action suspense thriller by Anna Willett Page B

continued forward. The drive from the cheese factory had taken about twenty minutes so, she guessed the walk back would take about an hour and ten. Under normal circumstance . Yes, if she were walking on the road and had some water, but struggling around thorny bushes and over fallen branches while grappling with thirst was a different story.
    At the rate she progressed, she wouldn’t reach the car for at least another hour. She wondered how Hal was holding up. He’d done his best to seem calm, but Paige heard the pain in his voice. He’d tried to talk her out of fixing the car, but they both knew it was the only way. She prayed he’d be okay, and that God would help her be strong enough to reach the car and do what she had to. She didn’t know what Lizzy might be capable of or if the woman really was dangerous, but her gut told her she had to get Hal out of that house. The baby moved, a slow shifting unlike anything she’d felt before. Paige took it as a sign of agreement and picked up the pace.
    She checked her phone again, looking for the time and the dim possibility of a signal. She puffed out a deep breath, ten after-twelve and no lit bars. She slipped the phone back in her bra and moved on. Her feet were swollen inside her shoes and her back strained as if under the weight of a ton of bricks, but the worst part had to be the itch growing around her calves. She guessed it was from insect bites and the constant friction of dry grass against her skin. Why the hell did I wear a short sundress? Because , she answered herself, you thought you were going to be spending yesterday enjoying some alone time with your hubby, not slogging through the bush looking for help .
    When she made it to the car, the first thing she’d do, after drinking a few litres of water, was rub some Soothe on her legs. Another little promise she made to herself, another reward for taking one more painful step and then another.
    To keep her mind occupied and stop herself thinking about water and snakes and all things fangs-ridden inhabiting the bush, she went over the steps Hal had taught her; lift the tyre in place, put on the lug nuts in a star pattern. Next, tighten them lightly using her fingers, then put the remaining nuts on and tighten all using the torque wrench … It sounded simple. Hal made it sound easy. Paige swallowed and her throat rasped.
    She needed to rest. Her heart thundered, labouring to pump the increased volume of blood around her body. Her breathing came in shallow puffs, and she neared the edge of exhaustion. Paige took another step; her foot caught on a piece of dead wood and she stumbled forward. Hands splayed out, she landed on them and her knees.
    Hitting the ground with a jolt, her left hand landed centimetres from a jagged stick jutting from a fallen branch. Something shifted under her right hand, wet and slick. She pulled back and made a sound of disgust. Her hand came away coated in blackish red goo. Where she’d landed lay the rotting remains of what might have been a galah. The bird’s stomach had burst and clusters of maggots writhed around the spill of intestines.
    Paige shrieked, scuttling backward on her hands and knees. She could feel the sludge on her palm, sticky and wet. Leaning back on her knees, she rubbed her hand on the fallen leaves. Finally daring to look, her palm was stained brown and smelt thick with decay. Her stomach lurched and she spent the next few minutes heaving up a mixture of water and chunks of bread.
    When she managed to stop gagging, she spat and wiped her arm across her mouth. The smell of her hand set off another wave of nausea. Her stomach clenched and her eyes watered, but mercifully the vomiting subsided. Paige sat back, ignoring the crunching leaves under her weight, and tried not to think about whatever insects might be crawling just out of sight.
    She closed her eyes and took three, deep, shuddering breaths. She had to keep it together, stay calm, even though her skin