Redhouse III
The risk was too great. The flailing couple had fallen at the corner. At her best, Lydia might have been able to clear the distance needed to reach the greenhouse door. If she missed, they were all casualties. She knifed sideways into the short aisle between the main aisles, her sneaker finding solid purchase on the moist walkway.
She hazarded a look over her shoulder. The killer was coming. Her mind rebelled at the notion, but that’s what he was. A knife-wielding, blood covered killer. Where had her dull reality gone? She had gained a few feet on him as he advanced with casual purpose.
The fox and the hound zipped across her mind as she planted to make the next ninety degree zag, praying her knee would hold.
Not only did the joint hold, but her plant and go was clinic. Her volleyball coach would have been tickled at her engrained skills so late in life. Lydia didn’t think he would have envisioned this particular scenario however.
A blur of motion from the other aisle left her gaping as the foliage whizzed by. The maniac had gone straight, and he fell upon the Slugs with the finality of an anvil.
He was supposed to follow me! Lydia’s mind shrieked, thinking she was leading the killer away from the helpless pair. The tiny part of her that was tickled with glee didn’t even really register.