Night Eyes (The Detective Temeke Crime Series Book 2) by Claire Stibbe Page A
Authors: Claire Stibbe
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still hear it, he knew he was alone.
He picked up speed under dense branches that appeared black in the meager light and headed southwest, keeping the dirt track to his right. A rabbit startled him as it bounded across his path, darting between a skirt of gnarly brown branches and dead leaves. Adam paused, held his breath and listened.
Only the whisper of a breeze through the fir trees and the screech of an eagle. The air was pungent with the scent of sap and piney woods and in the distance, he could just make out a large lake shimmering black like a puddle of oil.
Scanning the underbrush, his eyes became accustomed to the gloom. He pelted down the slope towards a stream, crossing over a group of flat rocks to the other side. Continuing up the opposite slope at a steady jog, he headed towards a knot of box elders and sagebrush, realizing he had no container for water or iodine crystals to purify it. He wouldn't last long out in the woods without a drink and the next water source was likely to be the lake he had seen well over a mile away.
It was here the predators came; wolf, bear and mountain lion. None of them scared him, not like Ramsey did. It was another rabbit that made him jump, scampering over a tree root, pausing for a moment to sniff the scent off a bleak wind. Something had disturbed it, something bigger. The air was chilled as the night wore on, made him shiver, made his teeth chatter. Lucky the moon was hanging just above the treetops, full enough to provide light. He found the hills and valleys a struggle, footfalls punctuated with labored breaths.
And then he froze, hand pressed against his chest. He could hear panting and branches snapping back in the wake of a runner. A flash of movement to his right. Ramsey was fast, angling sideways to gain purchase on the slope, arms out by his sides. His mouth was set in a clenched grin, breath misting beneath his nose.
Adam dropped to a crouch, blending with a stand of young Douglas-firs. He watched the dark figure some fifteen feet ahead, pausing suddenly as if getting his bearings. One hand seemed to hover over his belt, the other hung in the air, fingers spread. He was gauging the wind. It was something big-eared bats did when they spread their wings, as sensitive as a human fingertip.
Ramsey began to head east and then quite suddenly north as if he traveled an arc around Adam, plotting his course with the accuracy of a sniffer-dog. He stopped once or twice, glancing up at a small helicopter humming in the sky, lights flickering in the darkness. Then he disappeared around the base of a large boulder.
Adam tried to think. He could turn back and run towards the house. It was the last thing Ramsey would expect. He could even try driving that big old truck. It wouldn’t matter if he didn’t have a license. The police were looking for him anyway.
The more he thought about it the more he liked it. Teeth rattling, he took a mental inventory of his surroundings, the slope back up to the lodge behind him and the service road beyond. It wasn’t like he was equipped with a thermal blanket and a few energy bars to go hiking off into the unknown, and there wasn’t enough light to get safely down to the lake.
Turning back towards the slope, he pushed on through the trees, boots clawing at dead leaves. Branches sprang back into his face, cutting across his cheeks as he blinked the tears away. Sometimes he ran, sometimes he stopped to listen. He was ten minutes away from the lodge, ten minutes away from safety.
Shadows were creeping at the base of the trees and an owl hooted nearby. Just as he came to a standstill behind a shaggy spruce, his foot caught on a root and he came down with a thump, sliding half-way beneath its spiny skirt. He was rewarded with the bitter smell of dead leaves and the echo of breaking twigs. He tried to crawl closer to the tree trunk, but the root had somehow caught on the rubber sole of his boot and the only way he could free it was
He picked up speed under dense branches that appeared black in the meager light and headed southwest, keeping the dirt track to his right. A rabbit startled him as it bounded across his path, darting between a skirt of gnarly brown branches and dead leaves. Adam paused, held his breath and listened.
Only the whisper of a breeze through the fir trees and the screech of an eagle. The air was pungent with the scent of sap and piney woods and in the distance, he could just make out a large lake shimmering black like a puddle of oil.
Scanning the underbrush, his eyes became accustomed to the gloom. He pelted down the slope towards a stream, crossing over a group of flat rocks to the other side. Continuing up the opposite slope at a steady jog, he headed towards a knot of box elders and sagebrush, realizing he had no container for water or iodine crystals to purify it. He wouldn't last long out in the woods without a drink and the next water source was likely to be the lake he had seen well over a mile away.
It was here the predators came; wolf, bear and mountain lion. None of them scared him, not like Ramsey did. It was another rabbit that made him jump, scampering over a tree root, pausing for a moment to sniff the scent off a bleak wind. Something had disturbed it, something bigger. The air was chilled as the night wore on, made him shiver, made his teeth chatter. Lucky the moon was hanging just above the treetops, full enough to provide light. He found the hills and valleys a struggle, footfalls punctuated with labored breaths.
And then he froze, hand pressed against his chest. He could hear panting and branches snapping back in the wake of a runner. A flash of movement to his right. Ramsey was fast, angling sideways to gain purchase on the slope, arms out by his sides. His mouth was set in a clenched grin, breath misting beneath his nose.
Adam dropped to a crouch, blending with a stand of young Douglas-firs. He watched the dark figure some fifteen feet ahead, pausing suddenly as if getting his bearings. One hand seemed to hover over his belt, the other hung in the air, fingers spread. He was gauging the wind. It was something big-eared bats did when they spread their wings, as sensitive as a human fingertip.
Ramsey began to head east and then quite suddenly north as if he traveled an arc around Adam, plotting his course with the accuracy of a sniffer-dog. He stopped once or twice, glancing up at a small helicopter humming in the sky, lights flickering in the darkness. Then he disappeared around the base of a large boulder.
Adam tried to think. He could turn back and run towards the house. It was the last thing Ramsey would expect. He could even try driving that big old truck. It wouldn’t matter if he didn’t have a license. The police were looking for him anyway.
The more he thought about it the more he liked it. Teeth rattling, he took a mental inventory of his surroundings, the slope back up to the lodge behind him and the service road beyond. It wasn’t like he was equipped with a thermal blanket and a few energy bars to go hiking off into the unknown, and there wasn’t enough light to get safely down to the lake.
Turning back towards the slope, he pushed on through the trees, boots clawing at dead leaves. Branches sprang back into his face, cutting across his cheeks as he blinked the tears away. Sometimes he ran, sometimes he stopped to listen. He was ten minutes away from the lodge, ten minutes away from safety.
Shadows were creeping at the base of the trees and an owl hooted nearby. Just as he came to a standstill behind a shaggy spruce, his foot caught on a root and he came down with a thump, sliding half-way beneath its spiny skirt. He was rewarded with the bitter smell of dead leaves and the echo of breaking twigs. He tried to crawl closer to the tree trunk, but the root had somehow caught on the rubber sole of his boot and the only way he could free it was
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