The Athena Project

CHAPTER 17

Lying just beyond the open cabin door was a bouquet of Rocky Mountain Irises. Gathering them up, Suffolk stepped outside, her heart beating even faster than before. Where is he? she thought to herself.

With her gun an afterthought as it dangled in her hand, she stepped outside. The trunks of the trees near the cabin were too narrow to hide behind. She tried to lick her lips, but her mouth was dry.

She spun quickly around, but there was no one behind her. Walking to the corner of the cabin, she peeked around it, but there was no one there either. Her legs were weak and her stomach was churning, but she pressed on. She walked behind the cabin, but saw nothing. Finally, she came the rest of the way around to the front door. As she did, the rain came down in a torrent.

Her heart was pounding against her chest. “Hello?” she called out into the storm. “Hello?”

There was flash of lightning as the bolt struck somewhere close by. Barely a second had passed before thunder rocked the ground. That was the moment she felt the hand on the back of her neck. He had come from behind, from inside the cabin. He must have slipped in while she was walking around the outside.

As his grip tightened on her, his other hand reached down and took away her gun. She didn’t struggle. Slowly, he drew her back inside.

She knew what would happen next and she resigned herself to it. She had no idea if the man was wearing a mask or not. Just in case, she knew it was better to keep her eyes shut tight; to not look at his face.

His backpack lay cast aside. On the floor he had hastily unrolled his sleeping bag. He laid her down and once she was lying flat on her back he raised her arms above her head. He grabbed both her wrists with his powerful left hand as if he knew that she was going to fight him when he began to undress her. And fight she did.

When his right hand slid underneath her jog bra, she brought her left knee up hard into his side. He muttered some sort of curse and threw himself on top of her, straddling her legs. She fought hard and snapped her teeth wildly, hoping to get a piece of him.

When she heard the click of his knife locking into place, she froze. He kept her arms pinned above her head and he waited. Outside the lightning flashed, the thunder roared, and the rain poured down.

He drew the flat of the blade along her lithe, tight stomach and then slowly moved it upward. She didn’t fight. She lay still. The entire time she kept her eyes tightly shut, not wanting to risk seeing his face.

He cut the jog bra from her body and cast it to the side, exposing her breasts. He did the same to her running shorts.

She felt him slide out of his trousers and then and only then did she open one of her eyes, but only part way. He was wearing a ski mask. He had remembered.