Wyoming Mountain Escape by Laura Scott (types of ebook readers .TXT) 📗

memories rushed through Faith’s mind. For more than twenty years she’d longed to come back. With no other choice available, she believed God’s hand had guided her throughout every mile of this frightening journey.

The Silver Creek Bridge appeared through the swirl of snow in her headlights. So many of her early childhood memories were tied to this creek. Her grandfather had taught her how to fish here. They’d searched for gold along the banks of the stream.

A smile played across her face at the way her grossdaddi could make anything seem like an adventure to a young child.

Tires squealed close and the sweet memories evaporated while goose bumps flew up her arms. A massive truck was a few feet off her bumper. She’d been wrong. This wasn’t an innocent traveler. Her worst fear screamed out of her nightmares and into reality.

Vincent had found her. Staying alive was going to take all her skills.

He flipped his lights on bright to intimidate. Faith buried the accelerator and pushed the car to its limits. Her tires spun on the slick road. Even though it was springtime in other parts of the world, here in Big Sky Country, winter still had the community in its grip.

Silver Creek Bridge quickly came up. She had to cross it before he trapped her there.

Her tires connected with the first wooden slat on the bridge. From far too close on her bumper, Vincent revved his engine. Before there was time to have a clear thought, the truck plowed into her full force. Her car lurched forward. Faith’s head flung toward the wheel then snapped backward.

She grabbed the door for support when another blow sent the full weight of her body slamming against her wrist. She screamed as pain shot up her arm. Keeping the car on the road with one working hand was difficult, but she wanted to live.

Her grandmother’s home was past the bridge down the first gravel road on the right, but she didn’t dare lead Vincent there. The next turnoff was several miles beyond. She’d never make it that far. If she drove the car cross country under these conditions, would she survive? Through the swatch of visibility the headlights created, much of the countryside appeared still covered in snow, and the storm was increasing.

Faith fought hard to right the car and keep it from slamming into the guardrail. She punched the gas and tried to put distance between herself and the vehicle that was inches off her bumper once more. The truck hit her again.

Her car spun sideways. Faith screamed and did her best to control the car, but Vincent didn’t let up. He planted the truck’s bumper against the side of her door and shoved. She watched in horror as the truck’s tires coughed up smoke as he tried to force her off the bridge.

Faith yanked the wheel hard to the left in a futile attempt to pull free of the massive truck, but it was useless. Her car’s engine was no match.

She stomped the brake pedal with both feet, but the car continued to inch closer to the guardrail.

The passenger side struck the railing. Metal grinding against metal sounded horrific as the car crumpled on impact. Vincent didn’t let up. The guardrail bent under the pressure of the powerful truck. Faith fought a losing battle. Trapped inside the car there was nothing she could do to prevent it. She was going into Silver Creek.

Her terrified gaze shot to the water below. The creek was close to overflowing its banks and had to be five feet deep.

The railing gave way with a terrible sound of metal snapping and bolts breaking free. Both passenger tires left the bridge. The car hung suspended in midair for the time it took Faith to pull in a fearful breath. Vincent’s gleeful expression would forever be imprinted in her memory. She teetered back and forth for a second longer then plunged into the icy waters of Silver Creek.

The noise of the impact was so horrendous it had her wondering if the car would break into a hundred pieces. Her injured wrist banged the door again. She screamed and blacked out for a second.

Freezing water poured in through the bottoms of the doors.

Faith fumbled with the seat belt latch. It didn’t budge. Not like this. She wouldn’t die trapped inside this vehicle. She’d fight with everything she had to live. Expose Vincent for the criminal he was.

Water continued to rise inside the car. It groaned under the shifting pressure.

“Help me. Please,” she prayed and jabbed her finger against the latch several more times. The final try released the seat belt. She’d escaped her house with just the clothes on her back and the pieces of evidence she’d tucked inside her purse that would bring down Vincent. She wouldn’t lose them now.

Faith grabbed her purse and phone before they were completely submerged. She shoved the phone inside the purse and closed it before she slung the strap over her head.

It was a blessing the car had manual window cranks because the water had shorted the electrical system.

Faith rolled down the driver’s window and eased through the opening. Immediately, she sank under the water’s surface and tried not to panic. Her feet touched the bottom, and she righted herself. Though her head was above the water, the creek was running swiftly and standing up against the current was nearly impossible.

The cold water took her breath away. From where she stood in the middle of the creek, the bank appeared miles away.

Keeping her eyes on land, she began walking. She’d taken only a few steps when she stumbled on the rocky creek bed and went under the water.

Fighting back alarm, she steadied her feet beneath her. She wasn’t a strong swimmer in the best of conditions, but she’d never make it to the shore like this. There was only one choice. She’d have to swim diagonally to reach dry ground.

One stroke at a time. Her grandfather had taught her that valuable lesson.