Read Cherringham--Snowblind for Free Online

the left, and you go a bit deeper into the woods. Alan should be here soon.”
    “Right,” she said, and he watched her walk over to where the ploughed snow came halfway up the hedges, as she looked for a way on to the side of the road, climbing over the man-made drift.
    He turned left, and they both started looking for Archy Fleming.
    Sarah found each step a challenge. One foot in front of the other was so difficult when each step sank a foot or two into snow. The fact that it had started up snowing again only made it worse.
    If Archy had walked this way, any tracks would have been long covered by the snow.
    And as she entered the thickly wooded area, she realised that if he was following a footpath, that too would have vanished in the snow.
    Now — for her — she could only guess if she was on a trail or stepping on to a jumble of rocks and branches. The snow cover made it all look the same.
    Sarah glanced back — the road barely visible, Jack vanished to search the other side of the road.
    She suddenly felt alone.
    And with that feeling adding to the chill, she slid out her phone.
    She had a signal. Not much of one, but at least she could call if needed. A lifeline out of these snowy woods to the world outside.
    As she walked, she found spots where the snow was less deep, protected a bit by the overhanging branches of the few pine trees mixed with the barren deciduous trees.
    The new snow still hadn’t fallen so deeply in here, so maybe Archy’s tracks might just be visible.
    But it was getting dark. Winter, and the light vanished so early.
    They wouldn’t have much time before they’d have to leave.
    And despite her protestations to Jack that she was … fine … the thought of leaving was appealing.
    Get home. Ride out the second storm.
    Maybe plan with Jack what they should do about the nursing home. Maybe it was something simply left to the authorities.
    But meeting that nurse, the sister, all those old, vulnerable people stranded there?
    And to have two of the residents slip away in the night? Without anyone even noticing …
    Like her mentor, she had started to trust her instincts on such things.
    And her instincts told her that things weren’t quite all they seemed up at Broadmead Grange.
    Another step — and this time she must have walked right on to a hidden boulder. The stone made her ankle twist, and she fell forwards, tumbling, arms flying out to break the fall.
    And she landed on something …
    At first, she didn’t move.
    At first — her mind suggested all sorts of benign possibilities.
    She’d landed on a fallen tree trunk padded by inches of snow.
    Or a pile of leaves, blown here, gathered, because—
    ( Because …?)
    —what she’d landed on felt soft.
    And as another entirely different thought occurred to her, she pulled back, recoiling, using her legs to edge backwards.
    Off the tree limb.
    Off the pile of leaves.
    Off whatever she had fallen onto.
    She took a breath as the next, most obvious thought occurred to her as she slowly stood up, trying not to use her hands to help in the process.
    No — not wanting to press on anything with her hands. Not now that she didn’t know what she would be pressing on.
    The falling snow stuck to her jacket — a much wetter snow than last night, it was going to make everything so icy. Her face was dotted with small patches of the icy stuff.
    Until she stood near where she’d tripped on the rock, and looked down at her landing spot.
    The shape indistinct, almost unnoticed.
    But having just been close to it, she knew what it was.
    The outline of a body. The head, torso, arms … legs. As if it was a snowman, lying face up in the snow, taking a rest.
    And by the shape there were marks still just visible in the snow: footprints.
    Sarah could hear her steady, deep breathing. In all that she and Jack had done, she had never felt like this before.
    She slid her phone out of her pocket, hoping that it still retained that single bar.
    That’s all I want, she