Read Rescuing Liberty: Perseverance Book 1 for Free Online Page B

neither of us knew the code to
the safe, there was nothing to do but wait. I wanted to rant and
rave, enraged by the injustice of it all. But frankly, I was too
exhausted. Giving up seemed like a much more realistic approach to
the entire situation. A life full of child hunters and family
killers no longer seemed worth the considerable effort it took to
stay alive.
    I’d seen more than my fair share of
heartache and corpses and I was ready for it all to end. Like a
dog, I’d trotted after hope; my ever-elusive master. And in return
for my faithfulness, life used me like a work horse that had been
rode hard and put away wet. And now there was a sweet little girl
with dark, haunted eyes relying on me.
    I couldn’t give up—not yet—but I could
rest. “It’s going to be okay,” I told Ashley. “I need to sleep.
Please wake me the second you hear him approach?”
    She shifted and I drifted off to
sleep, interrupted when her mousy, sweet voice finally replied,
“Please, don’t leave me here with him.”
    I sighed. This wasn’t what I wanted,
but there was no way I could deny the plea of a scared little girl.
I cracked my eyes. Ashley stared at me like I was Wonder Woman in a
world of ordinary mortals. “I promise,” I replied as my eyes closed
again. Then I prayed for indestructible bracelets and an invisible
airplane.
     
    * * *
     
    ‘Get out … NOW!’
    The mental command was
urgent and demanding, interrupted my sleep like a bullhorn. Dreams
of dancing with my eighth grade crush shattered as my body and mind
were instantly compelled to evacuate the tent. Normally a still,
small voice, the call’s intensity practically ripped me from my sleeping bag. I
floundered through the dark, searching our flimsy nylon shelter
until I found Michelle. “Wake up, Shell,” I pleaded, but she was
sound asleep.
    ‘ Drag her! Do it
now!’ The call became a compulsion; so powerful
it was excruciating. I felt like I would spontaneously combust if I
didn’t get out of the tent, but as painful as it was to stay, I
couldn’t leave my friend behind.
    I unzipped the flap,
grabbed Michelle by the shoulders, and dragged her toward the
outline of the large canvas tent where her dad—Howard—slept. My
shaking fingers fumbled the little metal zipper.
    ‘ NOW! NOW!
NOW!’ The thoughts battered my body
like physical blows. I bit down on my lip until I tasted blood,
trying to pull myself together.
    “ Dad,” I pleaded. “Help me,
I can’t …” Howard wasn’t my father, but he was the closest thing
I’d ever had to one. I’d given him the title when Michelle and I
became best friends in kindergarten.
    The inside of the tent lit
up like a beacon of hope. I started sobbing. Safety was so close:
visible yet unattainable.
    “ What is it? What’s
happened to Michelle?” Howard frantically unzipped the flap and
helped me drag her still sleeping form inside it.
    “ Nothing … with Michelle.”
I huffed, trying to catch my breath. “But something’s wrong.” I
wiped my nose with my sleeve. “I don’t know what, but I just—I
just—”
    Then we heard it: the very
eerie, very loud, very close, scream of a cougar.
    There are few things in
life more terrifying than the sound of a cougar. Not something one
could get used to, it’s like woman’s scream laced with malice,
dripping with hatred. The hair on the back of my neck stood up and
I instantly needed to use the restroom.
    The scream woke Michelle. I
clutched her hand and we scrambled to the back of the tent.
Terrified, we clung to each other, our fear hanging in the air like
fog.
    Howard grabbed his Marlin
.22 caliber, bolt-action rifle. It was our hunter’s safety training
weapon and he slept with it loaded beside him while we were
camping. Holding the rifle in one hand, he pulled back the unzipped
tent flap with the other. The darkness outside was sinister and
evil, hungry for a victim to claim. As if answering the summons of
the dark, Howard raised his rifle and