Page 90 of Shadow of Fear
23
The fire was close. Coming closer.
“We have to go,” Kinsley all but screamed at Yapp as an easterly wind whipped over her body, bringing heavy levels of smoke and choking off her oxygen.
He ignored her and continued to fumble under the hood, then ran to the driver’s seat and turned the key. The engine groaned, but didn’t catch. He tried it again. Again and again. Same results every time until it only clicked.
She raced toward him as far as her rope would allow her to move. “Please, can’t you see that the fire is getting closer? That we’re in significant danger here? If we leave on foot now, we have a chance to outrun the fire, but if we sit here and waste time trying to get the stupid truck running, we’ll die for sure.”
He looked up, panic in his eyes, his hands clasped to the wheel. He’d left the key switched on, and the radio was running. She didn’t want to listen to it, but aLevel 2alert had now been issued for their area. The excited announcer was saying that, with the increase in winds, things were moving so quickly they could hardly keep up with the changes in alerts. He begged everyone in the area to continue to stay tuned.
“You heard him!” she shouted to break Yapp’s daze. “We have to go.”
He took a quick look at her and bolted outside. Good, he’d come to his senses, would untie her, and they could leave.
He took a long look at her, then turning toward the back of his vehicle, he ran away, leaving her behind.
“Wait! Wait!” she shouted. “Untie me!”
He kept going, looking like he’d really kicked it into gear and was running at high-speed. She couldn’t keep watching. She had to free herself. She charged for the bumper and clawed at the knot. The rope was tighter than she could imagine, her fingers pulling, prodding, digging. Moving it only a fraction of an inch.
She heard a yelp from Yapp, but she didn’t take time to check on him. She continued to pull at the rough rope, its abrasive braid gnawing at her fingers. If she couldn’t get it loosened soon, her fingertips would begin to bleed.
A section let loose. She tugged hard on it, blood now seeping onto the rope. She didn’t care. She’d gotten it loose. Now to work on the second knot, which came free in her fingers far more easily. She jerked the rope from the bumper. She couldn’t free her hands, so she wrapped the length of it around her body so it wouldn’t trip her up.
She charged around the end of the truck and raced forward. Yapp lay in the dirt clutching his ankle.
He looked up. “I wrenched my ankle. I can’t walk. You can’t leave me here.”
She waited for him to pull his gun on her, but saw that he’d dropped it.
She hurried to pick it up. “I can leave you behind, and I think I will.”
“No, no. Please. Can’t you just imagine how horrible it would be to die in the forest fire?”
“As if you cared about whether I died in one,” she said. “If I died at all. In fact, you probably planned to kill me when you felt like you were free.”
“I wasn’t, I swear. I was going to let you go.” He didn’t sound very convincing.
Whether he was convincing or not, she had no intention of leaving him behind. Jesus would never leave Yapp or any person to die. He would forgive and move on.
“You’ll have to get to your knees, and then I’ll help you up and support you. But you’ll have to put some weight on that ankle if you want to get out of here.”
He gaped at her as if he didn’t expect her to help him. Most people wouldn’t. They would run as fast as they could away from the danger. But Christians who lived their faith weren’t “most people.” Even if they were in the shadow of fear like this, hopefully they would assist the other person.
She couldn’t support him and control the gun, so she lifted her arm and flung it so far away that his bad ankle would prevent him from retrieving it.
“What in the world?” He rolled to his knees, moaning in pain. “What if you need that gun?”
“Why would I need a gun? You’re dependent on me to get out of here, so I know you’re not going to do something stupid.”
He latched on to her, acting as if he were going to crawl up her body to get to his feet.
“Chill, or you’ll take both of us down. Let me help you up in a civilized fashion.”
He relaxed, but only a fraction.
She held out her hands. “First, you’ll have to untie me.”
