Hanover House: Kickoff to the Evelyn Talbot Chronicles

Chapter 16

Evelyn couldn't believe Jasper hadn't seen that the door to the fridge was ajar. When he'd gone outside, she'd had to open it to gulp for air—or she'd pass out—and he'd surprised her by returning. Then she hadn't been able to get it shut all the way. But he'd been so intent on what he was doing, she didn't think he'd noticed.

She would've been glad about that, relieved—if she hadn't smelled gasoline.

The shack was a tinderbox to begin with, and he'd just added an accelerant. If she didn't get out fast, she'd burn to death. But the loud crackle made it difficult to know where he was, since she could no longer hear him. Was he outside watching the place burn? Could he be hoping to flush her out?

Paranoia tempted her to think that way, to believe that he knew more than he probably did. The frightened child inside her tried to convince her to remain hidden, because that fridge, especially now that it was encircled by fire, seemed like the only place he couldn't reach her. She was afraid if she scrambled out and headed for safety, she'd only run into him, and she had no illusion that it would be any better fate than dying where she was.

But then she thought of Amarok, and her parents and sister, and her work. She'd told herself for years that she wouldn't allow Jasper to get the best of her. She'd fought that first experience with everything she had. Why would she let him win in the end?

She wouldn't, she decided. She was going to survive. Again. And then she'd do everything in her power to see that he was finally punished so he could no longer hurt her or anyone else.

The heat was already unbearable, and smoke hung so thick in the air, she couldn't breathe. Coughing and gasping, she pushed herself out of the fridge and onto the dirt floor. She could see flames licking their way up to the roof, knew the whole shack could crumble on top of her any second. Yet she could hardly move, still didn't have complete control of her body. Curling up inside that fridge had done nothing to get the blood flowing back into her limbs, so she was as numb and tingly as she'd been before—not to mention weak, hungry and exhausted.

Move! Now! she ordered herself. The fire was consuming the shack like a piece of paper. If she waited any longer, she'd burn right along with it.

Remaining low to the ground, she dragged herself to the entrance. The flames had caught hold of the door, but she grabbed that old, bloody blanket she'd spotted earlier and used it to protect her from the flames as she crawled across the threshold.

Part of her believed Jasper would grab her immediately. But once she reached the cool embankment of a creek and rolled over onto her back to stare at the sky overhead, she realized she was alone.

She stayed there, gulping for breath until she also realized something else—if she didn't get up, he'd escape. She had to get a good look at him, note the license plate number on his car, something. Otherwise, she could spend the rest of her life as she'd spent the past twenty years, wondering if he was around the very next corner.

Driven by sheer determination, Evelyn staggered to her feet. But she'd been unconscious when he brought her here, had no idea where she was, or, now that she was no longer in the shack, from which direction she'd heard his car approach. Fear, panic and desperation had a tendency to distort perceptions, which was also a problem.

By the time she saw the smoke of a second fire, and could walk well enough to climb the embankment to reach it, she was fairly certain he was gone—and so were the license plates on the burning vehicle he'd used to abduct her.

***

The man and woman who picked Evelyn up on the side of the road wanted to take her to the hospital, but she'd demanded they drive straight to the closest police station. She had some superficial wounds—bloody chafing on her wrists and ankles, cuts on her arms and the sides of her mouth and some burns on her legs (even though she hadn't been aware of ever coming into direct contact with the fire). But it was probably her headache that bothered her most. She needed to be treated at some point, if only to have the stitches from Hugo's attack removed and to make sure that whatever Jasper had put on that rag hadn't caused permanent damage.