Undercover Memories Read Online Free PDF Page B

force of his own strength, Korenev had driven his right hand across the cleaver blade and lost his index finger in the process. His bellows rattled the windows as he tucked his maimed, bloody hand under his arm and advanced on Paige with a murderous fire burning in his eyes.
    Paige had dropped the cleaver in the impact and was now backed against the wall as John darted into the bedroom to get the ammo. Her coat was on the bed but it had four pockets, all zipped, and he wasted precious time feeling around trying to find the right one as Paige’s screams pealed through the cabin. At the same time, he scanned the floor, in search of the gun. There it was, against a floorboard on the outside wall. He finally found the right pocket.
    He soon slid the clip into the grip and lunged back into the living area. Paige and the killer were gone. He heard an engine start out back and ran through the kitchen in time to spot a gold car emerge from behind a copse of evergreen trees, Paige behind the wheel.
    John fired off a couple of shots at the tires, but he was too late. It was too far away.
    Swearing, he raced back into the house.
    * * *
    “D RIVE FAST ,” K ORENEV demanded. With his good hand, he held the knife tip against Paige’s throat.
    “I said fast,” Korenev repeated, and leaning toward her, stomped his boot on top of her right foot, depressing the accelerator even farther, ignoring her cries of pain as he crushed her toes. Shoved against the driver’s door, she could barely breathe and the trees flying by her window made her head spin.
    As they came to a crossroad, he grabbed the wheel with his bloody hand, swinging it hard to the right. The car turned widely, hitting a ditch but bouncing back onto the pavement, careening across both lanes as Korenev fought to regain control. Paige held her breath as the smell of his fresh blood combined with terror made her stomach heave.
    With the crazy turn, they’d left the main highway that would have taken them out of the mountains. If John was following, he would undoubtedly continue on straight.
    If John was following.
    What had Korenev meant when he claimed he’d butchered the Pollocks to make it appear the work of a madman, a man like John? Was John a cold-blooded killer?
    As if it mattered right now? If she had to choose her poison, John or this guy, bring on John. Please…
    Korenev was breathing kind of shallow. He’d lost a lot of blood. She had to keep focused. If the man blacked out, it would be up to her to get the car stopped without crashing it.
    Think, think, think. You still have your purse. What’s in it that you can use? Why didn’t you buy a spray can of pepper spray when you had the chance? Or a little gun?
    With a sinking heart, the only object she was sure she carried besides a wallet were her car keys.
    It became obvious that Korenev had no intention of giving in to pain or injury when he finally took some of his weight off her foot. His big hand still clamped the steering wheel over hers.
    They were approaching a wide spot in the road. On one side was a closed-up gas station and on the other a small square building, a tavern called Gil’s Place.
    Korenev turned the car into a parking area beside the tavern that appeared to be carved out of the surrounding dense forest. There was a sprinkling of other vehicles, but not many; after all, it was not yet noon. He made straight for the back of the lot, easing up on the pedal and searching for something.
    When he seemed to find what he wanted, he finally shifted his bulk back into his own seat and took his hand off the wheel, his foot off of hers. The relief lasted about one second.
    “Drive in forest over there,” he said, gesturing with the knife. “Hurry.”
    He’d chosen an area where the underbrush wasn’t as heavy. There was the suggestion of a track, perhaps a leftover from a logging road years before.
    She hesitated. Who knew what horror he had in mind for her, and surely the middle of the lot was a