Chapter 10

Alex's lead foot hit the gas. The windy road was treacherous at night, but he was unmindful of the danger. A sixth sense was warning him that his trek to Collinwood had played right into Angelique's hands. His leaving had left Claire and Tracy at the mercy of whatever she had to throw at them.

Suddenly, he was blinded by two beams of intense light shining directly in his eyes. He narrowly kept his car from careening into the trees before he passed a jeep that was idling on the roadside. It was immediately recognizable as Gerard's. Alex sped up hoping to lose him. Gerard sped off wildly in pursuit. Within seconds, he was immediately behind Alex's vehicle, ramming it from behind. Only Alex's excessive speed prevented serious damage. "Son of a bitch," he cursed as his taut fingers gripped the wheel, twisting it wildly, each time barely avoiding a collision. The road widened a bit, and Gerard used the opportunity to accelerate and maneuver his vehicle parallel to Alex's. The heavier jeep sideswiped Alex, forcing him off the road. Alex swerved to avoid trees, but was helpless as he plunged down a steep, rocky ravine. There were too many trees now and no way to avoid all of them. He plunged his foot down heavily on the brake and prayed he would stop in time. The hood crumpled under the impact, but Alex's quick thinking had saved his life. He sat dazed but essentially unhurt as Gerard sped away into the night.

Tracy huddled near the fire, rubbing her hands in an attempt to expel the numbing cold that had invaded her fingers. Claire entered the room, "Oh, God, when is he coming back?" Tracy had no answer for her. "How are you feeling?"

"Oh, a little better, I'm still a little cold. Claire …"

Claire raised a finger cutting off Tracy's sentence, "Shh!" She cocked an ear listening to something.

"What's the matter?"

"I heard something outside."

"What are you going to do?" Tracy whispered.

Claire pulled a revolver out of her pocket and she hefted it inexpertly. "Alex told me to shoot anyone who tries to get in here."

"What did you hear?"

I know someone's out there." Grimly she pointed the gun ahead of her and tiptoed nervously towards the door. Tracy followed close behind her absentmindedly chewing on a nail. Claire reached out, her hand slightly shaky, to open the door. Framed in the doorway, she glimpsed Gerard's sneering, menacing features. His lascivious look of triumph morphed instantaneously into alarm when he noted the glinting gun barrel pointed at him. Claire squeezed the trigger and a bullet exploded from the weapon. Gerard's hands rose to clutch his face, and then he was gone. "Oh God, I've killed him!"

"If he's just wounded ... We've got to be sure," Tracy asserted reluctantly. Claire nodded hesitantly. Neither woman was eager to venture outside, but they both felt compelled to check Gerard's condition. Claire pointed the gun ahead of her and cautiously made her way outside with Tracy in tow. As silently as possible, they crept around the perimeter of the cottage but found no sign of Gerard. Tracy whispered, "I know we hit him."

Claire's mind raced. There was no sign of him, not even a drop of blood. She began to feel very vulnerable out in the open and regretted the decision to abandon the comparative safety of the cottage. "Quick, I think we'd better get back inside." They both abandoned all attempts at stealth and broke into a run through the open door. As soon as they were inside, Claire slammed and bolted it shut.

Tracy asked, "What do you think we should do?"

"I don't know, I know we hit him." She opened her mouth to say something else, but the words were replaced by a piercing scream, one which Tracy echoed. A very bloody Gerard, eyes glowing with hatred, glared and reached out for them.

Quentin sprinted down the path toward the wrecked car. Alex looked quite a bit the worse for wear. His forehead was already sporting a bruise from its impact with the steering wheel, but he was essentially intact. "Quentin, I can't get the door open!" Quentin nodded and put all of his might into forcing the passenger door ajar. After a few mighty heaves, it finally gave way, and he and Alex raced back to the cottage.

They found Claire, bruised and her clothes disheveled, sobbing on the floor. Alex stooped to comfort her while Quentin ran from room to room. "Where's Tracy?"

"It's Gerard … he's got her. He tried to kill us …"

Gerard brought the jeep to a stop in the woods where it was partially camouflaged by the dense foliage. The blood was still running freely down his face as he regarded Tracy lasciviously. She tried to inch away but found her progress impeded by a snakelike arm that had coiled around her shoulders. Her screams were muffled as he reached around and clamped his hand over her mouth. As he leaned in, she caught the whiff of some of Quentin's expensive brandy on his breath. His other hand cupped her knee familiarly as he leered at her, grinning crookedly. His hand began to progress slowly but determinedly up her thigh. Tracy batted the hand away but was pulled in close for a brutal embrace. Gerard kissed her hard, ignoring her attempts to push him off her. Tracy flailed wildly in panic, her arm bashing against the horn repeatedly. Gerard lost his grip on her when he attempted to restrain her thrashing arm. Tracy began to scream wildly for help.

Quentin had left the cottage and was searching for her when he heard the commotion. "Tracy! Tracy, where are you?"

Gerard had succeeded in restraining Tracy, one arm holding her in a crushing grip, the other covering her mouth and nose, aborting any attempts to scream. Tracy managed a few pitiable whimpers and was forcibly silenced by Gerard.

Quentin paused, trying to locate the area from which the sounds of his wife's struggles had come. He began to make his way toward the general direction of the jeep, but the vehicle was still invisible to him.

Gerard had tired of the struggle with Tracy and decided to be rid of her for the moment. Flinging the door open, he hurled her out of the jeep as he brought the engine to life. The wheels screeched as they peeled out onto the road, the vehicle careening toward Quentin. Tracy yelled, "Quentin, look out!"

Quentin sprinted off the road and into the woods as the jeep barreled after him. Gerard made a valiant attempt to follow, but the cluster of trees was too dense. Quentin dove into a ditch as Gerard lost control of the machine and rammed it into the trunk of a tree.

The tables had turned. Quentin was scrambling to his feet with blood in his eye. Gerard thought it prudent to beat a hasty retreat out of the area and regroup. Throwing open the door, he fled with Quentin in hot pursuit. Gerard made his way back to the road and ran in the direction of the river. Peering over his shoulder, he observed that Quentin had already begun to close the distance between them, gaining on him steadily. On an instinctual level, he realized that this was a race he could not win. If it continued, he'd exhaust himself and be easy prey for his pursuer. He continued to make his way to a railroad footbridge. He was about halfway across when he decided to turn and make his final stand there.

Quentin's face registered triumph when he saw Gerard turn; he was quite confident he'd beat the recalcitrant handyman to a bloody pulp before he turned him over to the police. Then Gerard produced the wicked knife from his belt, sobering Quentin. The blade glinted in the moonlight. Undeterred, Quentin continued to advance on him, albeit quite a bit more cautiously. The two hovered around each other for a few moments, neither eager to make the first move. Gerard feinted a few times, swinging the knife noncommittally at Quentin, keeping him at bay. Quentin in turn made a few aborted attempts to try to wrest the knife from Gerard's grip but retreated when the knife arced to close to him.

Finally, Gerard lashed out at Quentin, nearly slicing open his stomach. Quentin had stepped back in the nick of time, dodging the blow. His hands snaked out, both fists locked on Gerard's wrist. The two began a deadly tug of war with the knife, each trying to plunge the blade deep into his opponent. Gerard's free hand sought out Quentin's face, desperately clawing at it. Rotted wood beneath Quentin's foot caved in, causing Quentin to lose his balance and collapse to the ground. He was barely able to maintain his grip on the knife as Gerard descended upon him. The knife was now aimed at Quentin's face, inching closer and closer with each passing second. Gerard grunted furiously propelling all his force into a vicious jab at Quentin's face. Quentin turned his head slightly, saving his eye. The knife tore his cheek open. Gerard brought his arm back to slash his throat.

"Gerard!" He turned and saw Tracy coming at him wielding one of the planks that had come loose from the rickety bridge. The wood hit him full in the face. The force of the blow threw him backward against the flimsy railing. He screamed as he hurtled to his death, his fall momentarily delayed by some high tension wires. His agony continued for a few more seconds as he was engulfed in electricity before the lines gave way and he continued to plummet to the tracks below.

Quentin held Tracy to him tightly. Alex had joined them and was peering cautiously down at Gerard's prone form. "It looks like the old B and M will be running late tonight," he commented sardonically.