TESS skidded to a stop. Her bare feet were caked with mud. She didn’t remember ripping her blouse, yet both elbows showed through, the flesh scraped and bloody. The rain had stopped without her noticing, but she knew it would be temporary because the clouds had darkened and the fog became thicker.

She leaned against a tree, trying to catch her breath. She had followed the only path she could find in the dense woods, hoping it would lead to freedom. The terror raced inside her, completely beyond her control. She expected him to step out and grab her at any second.

In less than an hour darkness would enshroud these endless woods. The thought brought fresh panic. She could hardly see through the fog. Twice she had slid down a ridge, almost tumbling into the body of water that had seemed like a gray mist when seen from above. The dark would make further movement impossible.

Her breathing became labored again as the fear crawled through her insides. Calm. Stay calm. Despite the instinct to continue running, it was more important that she find someplace to wait out the night. Now she wondered if she should have stayed in the shack. Had she really accomplished anything by leaving it? At least it had been dry, and that lumpy cot now sounded wonderful. Instead, she had no idea where she was. It didn’t feel as if she had gotten any closer to escaping this endless wooded prison, though she must have covered several miles.

She crouched down, her back pressed against the rough bark. Her legs begged to sit, but she needed to stay alert and ready to run. The crows were settling in the treetops. Hundreds of them flapped overhead, coming from all directions, their rude caws a warning as they claimed their evening roost.

Suddenly it occurred to Tess that these birds wouldn’t settle here if they didn’t perceive it to be safe. And if there was danger during the night, they would react better than an alarm system.

Her eyes began searching for a safe resting place. There were plenty of fallen leaves and pine needles. However, everything was damp. She shivered just thinking about lying on the cold ground.

The crows’ squawks continued. She looked up and began examining branches. She hadn’t climbed a tree since she was a kid. Her aching muscles reminded her how foolish the thought of climbing anything was right now. Foolish or not, it would be the safest place to be. He’d never look for her up above, not to mention other nightly predators. Dear God, she hadn’t even thought of other animals.

Then she heard it.

At first it sounded like a wounded animal, a muffled cry, a high-pitched hum. Tess turned slowly, her eyes squinting into the dark. A sudden breeze created night shadows. Swaying branches became waving arms. Rustling leaves sounded like footsteps. The muffled cry transformed into words.

“Help me. Please, help me.”

The words, drifting with the breeze, were crisp and clear. Tess froze. Maybe she was hearing things. Maybe it was simply exhaustion playing tricks on her.

Her arms ached. Her fingers felt numb. If she was going to make it up into the tree, she needed to use this last surge of energy.

The words came again, floating over her as if a part of the fog.

“Please, someone help me.”

It was a woman’s voice, and it was close by.

Tess could see only a foot or two into the thickening darkness. She walked slowly, silently counting her steps with arms stretched out in front of her. Twigs grabbed at her hair and unseen branches reached for her. She moved in the direction of the voice, afraid to call, to give away her presence. She stepped carefully, continuing her count so she could turn around and hopefully find her tree sanctuary.

Twenty-two, twenty-three. Then suddenly the ground opened beneath her. Tess fell and the earth swallowed her.