Chapter One

Diana Ridley’s lungs burned. Her feet tripped over another snarled root.

Behind her, the yip-yip of wild coyotes drowned out the crunch of dead leaves underfoot.

She stumbled, righted herself, and ran, before the snarling, snapping pack closed in.

Diana’s world narrowed to two objectives. Running and breathing. One foot, breathe in, two foot, breathe out.

Stop and she would die. Horribly. Bloody images from a late night horror movie spurred her on.

If she didn’t stop, her burning lungs would burst.

She scrambled over a deadfall tree. Wheezed for air. Halfway over, the break in the run brought her focus back to herself. Dirty khaki shorts and a fitted tee shirt were no protection from the biting thorny vines and dead brush in Dogwood Park.

Every bloody scratch on her bare arms and legs began to sting. Her limbs trembled. She gulped a breath.

A deadfall tree blocked her flight. Mid-scramble over the thigh-high obstacle, her shoestring lodged in the rough bark. Yip-yips and a chorus of coyote howls brought the terror back in an adrenaline filled rush. Diana jerked her foot loose. She stumbled, making the mistake of looking back.