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 DARK PURSUIT

An Emily Stone Thriller

by

Jennifer Chase

*****

PUBLISHED BY:

JEC PRESS

DARK PURSUIT

Copyright © 2015 by Jennifer Chase

www.authorjenniferchase.com
This is a work of fiction. The events and characters described herein are imaginary and are not
intended to refer to specific places or living persons. The opinions expressed in this manuscript are
solely the opinions of the author and do not represent the opinions or thoughts of the publisher. The
author has represented and warranted full ownership and/or legal right to publish all the materials in
this book.

All rights reserved. The scanning, uploading, and electronic sharing of any part of this book without
permission from the author constitutes unlawful piracy and theft of the author’s intellectual property.
If you would like to use material from this book, other than review purposes, prior written permission
must be obtained by contacting the author.

Begin Reading

Table of Contents

More from Jennifer Chase

Author Bio
 PART I:

THE CHASE
 CHAPTER ONE

Tuesday 2100 Hours

CAR TIRES SQUEALED AS BOTH sport utility vehicles skidded sideways across the narrow street. The
ear piercing screeches and waves of gravel-spray ensued as the vehicles held the uneven surface, and

then pivoted onto a bumpy dirt road.

The pitch-blackness of the night illuminated with blinding headlights from the two cars—one
pursuing the other.

Motors revved and engines tacked well into the red zones. The vehicle’s high beams bobbed and
weaved among the trees, and then disappeared into the dense landscape of the forest.

Low fog plunged the chill of the evening colder than the current temperature of forty-three
degrees. Pockets of moisture were heavier in some areas allowing for little visibility. With a murky

blur, the cars continued the dangerous pursuit. The country road quickly turned into a narrow trail,
causing both cars to drastically slow in speed.

Emily Stone fought the dangerous off road conditions with every ounce of strength that she could
muster. She clutched the steering wheel harder, knuckles white, biceps flexed, concentrating on every
sharp turn to remain alert, and to keep the car piloting straight.

Her dark eyes remained unwavering through the narrow view.

The seatbelt dug into her chest with every bump and chuckhole in the road. Fatigue had set in an
hour ago, but she could not stop now. Increasing weakness continued to edge its way through her arms
and legs. The escalating body aches vied for her immediate attention as her forehead pounded with a

familiar piercing pain.

Pushing through her discomfort, she kept focused on the treacherous road and the vehicle in front

of her.

Another victim was at stake.

Another young innocent victim.

It was obvious that the lead driver was also having difficulties with the road as the vehicle
bounced precariously close to the edge of the cliff. The lead SUV skirted and swerved, but still
miraculously maintained the right direction and gained a little speed.

Pieces of mud showered Emily’s windshield, peppering the entire front end and undercarriage.
Low tree branches and bushes clawed at the doors and slammed across the roof. At one point, she
thought a branch might break through the sunroof and land on the front seat.

The road hazards did not deter her.

Emily pressed the accelerator even harder. Her Ford’s RPM throttled to a dangerous level causing
the engine and oil lights to flicker. The dashboard lit up with several warnings that looked more like a
carnival ride than an SUV.

“Emily! Em!” a voice yelled from the cellular speakerphone. “What’s your location? Dammit,
Em, answer me!”

She ignored the plea from her partner, Rick Lopez, over the cell phone and turned it away from
her. They were more than partners—some would say they were soul mates. Either way, he was her
rock, her lover, and her only backup.
 They shared an unshakable love that drove them together toward the one essential goal—to save a

victim. She did not want to look at the screen and see his face drawn and deeply concerned for her

safety. His usual dark handsome features would show the extreme stress with a furrowed frown. She
could not bear to look at him.

There had been many other pursuits, some more dangerous, others just a routine investigation, but
all were potentially risky and could result in death. She had made peace with that reality. She had the
extensive experience of handing just about anything that came her way—and wore with dignity the
physical and mental battle scars to prove it.

They had spent the last few years hunting serial killers and child abductors, all under the radar of
law enforcement. They did not have to operate by the same rules of engagement or bureaucracy that
tied the hands of cops. Instead, the couple did all the investigative and forensic work for them and
forwarded all of the detailed information—anonymously.

They were a covert investigative team that procured results.

A simple plan.

It had served them well.

This time it was an emergency of life and death—an all-out code red involving a ten-year-old girl
by the name of Jeannie Sanders, abducted while walking home from a friend’s house. The photograph
of the little girl’s huge green eyes and sweet cherub face burned into Emily’s memory, which
propelled her into situations that most people would take great lengths to avoid.

The imminent situation drove Emily to an almost desperate impulse—worse than any obsessive-
compulsive disorder could ever accomplish. She never knew how far an investigation would take her
both physically and emotionally, but giving up was not an option when a child’s life was at stake.
 The work was necessary to her like air and food.

A couple of years ago, Emily had come to terms with the fact that any of her dark pursuits could
end with the inevitable. She lived by her own set of rules and personal motto. Life was not worth

living if you cannot make a difference—right a wrong, catch a serial killer, or save an innocent life.

Her life was as straightforward as that simple philosophy.

“Em!” Rick’s voice insisted, this time with an exasperated breath.

She balanced her cell phone on the dash praying that the signal would not disappear or the device
smash from impact. Flipping the smartphone over and slipping it into a console cranny, she glanced at
the screen. It was just as she had expected. The deep drawn look of concern changed Rick’s attractive
face. Even on the small electronic device, his eyes could bore straight into her soul. It was an
expression that made her weak and sometimes to doubt her own capabilities.

The lead SUV pulled ahead just out of view and disappeared into the fog.

A large patch of low-lying haze obscured the improvised roadway.

Emily reluctantly slowed her speed even more.

“I’m in pursuit. We’re just three miles off the main Interstate on Deer Run Road,” she replied
winded as if she had been running a marathon. “I’m not backing off. This is the first big break we’ve
had…”

She slammed on the brakes from the hairpin turn to avoid the steep cliff on her right. The Ford
skidded in that direction and she countered the slide with quick steering and some luck. The back
tires spun several revolutions before traction took hold again. She did not see the car or any lights
ahead of her anymore, so she took her foot from the accelerator.
 She stopped the SUV and cut the headlights.

It was dark in every direction.

She pressed the power button and lowered her window.

The distinct odor of a hot car engine and an overflowing radiator filled her nose. It had a familiar
sweet and earthy smell.

The outdoors was strangely quiet and dark as a bottomless pit.

Emily could make out a few outlines of large trees, but nothing more. There was a slim opening in
the fog. The sky remained overcast in a blanket of clouds that obscured any view of the stars or moon.

More deep aromas of the forest drifted into the car.

It was odd. If she closed her eyes and opened them, there was little difference in the view.

Deep shadows.

Extreme isolation.

Taking a deep slow breath, Emily tried not to fixate on the strangeness of her position, along with
the feeling of floating, which made her slightly nauseous. She had struggled with anxiety in the past,
the feelings of panic and the fight or flight responses. As with most things in her life, Emily worked
through them with tenacity and could overcome just about anything. That was what made her get out of
bed every morning in order to tackle every new challenge flung at her.

Realizing that she had been talking to Rick, she clumsily felt for the phone. It was in sleep mode
and the screen was dark. She pressed the button and her display brightened casting a cartoonish light
in the car, but there was no signal. She had lost connection with him. She was not sure if he had heard

her location or if he could figure out how to locate her.

What initially began as a routine surveillance changed, and then flip-flopped in an instant. They

were following another suspect when this SUV was caught in the middle of the surveillance, and he
reacted when they spotted him. They divided the surveillance pursuit and Emily ended up following
Kevin Werner, unbeknownst that he was the Tick-Tick Killer.

Everything turned sideways immediately.

She contemplated what to do next. The soft ticking of her engine cooling kept a hypnotizing beat,
soothing her nerves. She knew that she had to move forward in order to save the little girl, but it
seemed that the element of surprise would be the only approach. There had to be a location where the
abductor would hide—a cabin or an abandoned building.

Emily turned the key and her Ford roared to life, now with uneven timing. The headlights
illuminated the trees with a brash light, giving a weird depth perception of the forest. She turned the
lights back to regular beams, which made the area seem less ominous. There was no sign of the other
vehicle, no evidence of lights shone anywhere in the vicinity.

As she contemplated what to do, there were two logical choices, go forward or turn back to get a
cell phone signal and wait for Rick. She weighed each option. The predator was close; she sensed it.
That familiar tingly sensation rode roughshod throughout her body. It was as if she could feel his
breath on her neck. There was still time to rescue the little girl. All the other victims had been
murdered and then their bodies dumped exactly four days after their abduction—down to the minute.

It had already been three and half days… and counting.

There was still time.

 There had to be enough time.

A loud gunning sound of a high-powered engine came from behind. High beams flashed in her
rearview mirror and briefly blinded her. It took barely three seconds before the blue SUV rammed

into Emily’s Ford. Her body flung forward, snapping her neck and seizing her breath.

The larger vehicle pushed her headfirst at a steady pace. The thunder of the V8 engine roared like
a wild animal attacking its prey.

While still holding firm to the steering wheel with her left hand, Emily grabbed the Glock 9mm

from her side holster.

It was not there.

She remembered that she had not secured her gun before the pursuit. Her Beretta was still in her
ankle holster. Carefully maneuvering her body and wrestling to maintain control of the brake as well
as the steering wheel, she retrieved the small pistol in her right hand.

Emily did not waste any time, turned her torso to the blinding light, and fired three bullets through
the back window of the SUV.

Glass shattered.

The impact from the gunshots echoed in her ears. Cool air rushed inside the vehicle. The blast of
bullets stunned the attacking vehicle. The large blue SUV slowed its pace and opened a gap between
both cars.

Emily caught her breath trying to inhale and exhale evenly. Her anger escalated as she unhooked
her seatbelt. The little girl was the only factor pushing her forward. She presumed that the girl was
not in the vehicle, but hidden somewhere—close.
 The Berretta shook slightly in her right hand from the surging adrenalin pulsing throughout her

body as she readied herself again for another assault.

The thunder of the pursuing SUV sprang into life and the larger vehicle slammed into Emily’s car

once again. This time it seemed to have more power behind the strike. The killer was not going to go
down without a fight—too much was at stake.

It took all of Emily’s strength and concentrated attention to maintain control of her own vehicle.
No matter how hard she held the brake down with both feet, her car inched forward and gathered

speed. The tires slipped and gripped unevenly, and then the traction slipped again building momentum
down the narrow trail. Thick brush and branches scraped along the doors before Emily could see
through the tight clearing ahead.

The trail ended with a sheer cliff less than a hundred yards.

CHAPTER TWO

Tuesday 2145 Hours

“EM! EM!”

RICK CONTINUED TO YELL her name several more times, but there was only silence. He saw that the
connection was lost and tossed the phone onto the passenger’s seat. It did not make his frustration
dissipate. It only forced the developing anger to increase; he imagined all sorts of horrible scenarios
from Emily lying in a ditch bleeding to the killer shooting her at point blank range.

They had faced some dicey situations in the past, but something was different about Emily over
the past few months. She was distant and seemed to become more emotional about their
investigations. Something was about to give way to a much darker side of Emily, and Rick was not
sure if even she was prepared for what that rough road would dish out.
 Rick increased his speed along the freeway and weaved in and out of traffic. Sometimes he was

too close to other vehicles causing horns to honk from irate drivers that gave him the official middle

finger.

He steadily increased his speed even more and decided to take an off ramp that stated the names
of two roads: Deer Run Road and Deer Creek Road. The last word he heard Emily say before the
connection dropped was deer.

He knew how her thought process worked from previous cases; they had come to the same

conclusion about this case. It was Emily’s innate ability to deduce crime scenes and behavioral
evidence, which connected the dots to three possible suspects on their list. The dynamic skill she
possessed to dwindle down the suspect pool to a credible number was what made their work so
successful. It was absolute luck that they bumped into the real killer while following another suspect.

Rick fell in love with Emily the first time he spent time with her. It was not only her unmistakable
beauty, which was obvious to most. It was her intelligence, her uncanny skill of hunting serial killers,
and her tenacity, which further fueled his love for her.

He had retired from his police position to become Emily’s partner hunting down predators as a
phantom detective team. It had served them both well with many solved cases. It did not matter that
the police did not know where the information came from because they benefited from the solve rates,
but to Emily and Rick it was all worth the risk.

Picking up his cell phone, he redialed Emily’s number. The call went straight to voice mail.

“Damn…” he muttered tossing the cell phone aside again.

A working laptop and tablet along with several files rode shotgun, which included all of the
research and the groundwork of the investigation. He and Emily worked this particular case longer

than any other case to date. It was one of the worst serial cases Rick had encountered.

The news agencies named the serial killer the Tick-Tock Killer, which gave even more urgency to

the victims and exponentially raised extreme fear and anxiety among the community. Even when Rick
worked investigations as a homicide detective, it still did not prepare him for such a horrifying case
and so many young victims – the youngest was six years old.

The local cops and detectives tried to investigate with some doggedness, but ultimately they

became stymied and they were out of any plausible new leads. It happened all too often. This case
had run the gauntlet of news stories and the possibility of anything new. All sixteen cases in two and
half years had gone cold until the latest abduction of Jeannie Sanders. Emily needed to solve these
cases and put a stop to the killer’s hunting as quickly as possible.

Rick felt his stomach tighten the more he thought about the details of the case. He had not eaten
since early that morning and he realized that he was running on only fumes and too many cups of
coffee. He drove down the off ramp and made a sharp right. He did not expect to see any other
drivers on the back road due to the late hour.

A large commercial utility vehicle took up most of the road blocking access to the two rural
roads.

Yellow lights flashed.

One worker dressed in oversized reflective gear had just positioned several large orange cones to
direct any traffic around the work. The tall man with a beard prepared to board the bucket and ascend
to the transformer. The worker did not seem to notice or care that Rick skidded up to a stop.

Rick searched for the road signs and glanced at his GPS for confirmation. He had a fifty-fifty
chance of choosing the right road that Emily had taken. It could make the difference between life—

and death.

They both had decided to split up to check out possible suspects to cover more ground, especially

with the new suspect in the mix. He wished that he had taken Kevin Werner instead of Sean Mitchell.
Mitchell was a dead end and did not fit the profile.

Damn.

Rick decided to take Deer Run Road. Navigating the SUV toward the left, he slammed on the

brakes. There was a huge branch down blocking the roadway about the girth size of a weightlifter. It
lay precariously on its side.

“No!” he slammed his fists on the steering wheel.

Rick quickly jammed the car in reverse and pulled to the side of the road. He jumped out of the
vehicle to assess the damaged area and any other possible access. The limb was large and had
several smaller branches shooting in different directions making it impassable. It was what had
caused the local power outage. He hoped that it was a dead branch easy to maneuver to the side, but

no such luck. It would require a chainsaw and the burning of precious time before it would budge
enough to pass.

The more Rick thought about the roads, the more he bet that Emily had taken Deer Run Road. It
was not a just a guess, but a deduction. The road travelled deeper into the forest and paralleled the
large state park. It was a perfect cover for someone not wanting to be found, which allowed for
extreme privacy.

The fog continued to float in and the rural area became dense as the precious minutes ticked
onward. It chilled Rick. The mist camouflaged the solid row of trees that he had seen as he exited the
freeway.

“Sir? Are you lost?” a voice interrupted.

Rick turned and faced the county worker, who had a quizzical look on his face. He was older than

Rick had assumed—at least mid to late fifties.

“I need to get through on Deer Run Road,” Rick replied.

“Hmmm…” The tall man scratched his beard and took a moment to size up Rick.

“Is it possible?”

“Of course… just not now. This is one of three trees down in the area.”

Rick did not know if the man was slow or just did not care.

The worker continued, “The county has had so many cutbacks that I’m the only one. It’s going to
take a bit.”

“Look, I need to get through on that road. It’s urgent.” Rick emphasized the word urgent without

sounding sarcastic.

The man looked suspiciously at Rick as he said, “There aren’t any residences out there, just a few
cabins. What’s your hurry?”

There was no other choice, but Rick had to bluff the man. “It’s police business, I need to get
through.” He decided to try another angle to get the man to comply with what he wanted. “We’re on a
manhunt, and we have reason to believe that the suspect is hiding out there.”

The man’s eyebrows rose accompanied by a surprised expression. It seemed to resonate

something inside him. Rick knew that he had to act fast and play upon the man’s emotions in order to
work in his favor. He did not want to have to answer too many questions or for the worker to call a

supervisor.

“What do you need for me to do?” he asked.

“Do you have a chainsaw?”

“Uh, yes,” he replied slowly.

“Get it.” Rick stated flatly. He turned and headed back to his car, shed his jacket, and glanced

quickly at the cell phone. There was still no message or text from Emily.

Time battled against Rick.

He rolled up his sleeves as the worker approached carrying a chainsaw and a pair of safety
goggles.

“There are no live wires I could come in contact with, right?” Rick stated.

“No, you’re good to go. You know how to operate one of these?”

“Of course.” Rick took the tool from the man. It was heavier than he thought. “Thanks.” He had
never actually used one before.

For a moment, the county worker hesitated as if he thought better of giving a perfect stranger a
chainsaw.

Rick hurried to the large branch, fired up the device, and began cutting. It was louder than he
expected—ear splintering. Small fragments of the limb showered all around Rick; he worked as fast
as he dared and slowly made headway.
 CHAPTER THREE

Tuesday 2210 Hours

EMILY DID NOT HAVE A choice. If she did not want to end up broken and burned at the bottom of a
ravine, she had to jump from the SUV and hope that she could catch herself before another long drop.

The pursuing SUV gained more power, fiercely pushing the engine and torque capabilities to the
limit, and kept contact on Emily’s car like a bulldozer. It was mere seconds before the plunge. High-
pitch scraping and squealing of the metal compression between the two vehicles filled the night.

Braking did not slow Emily’s speed.

Mud mixed with leaves and various forest debris made it impossible to gain any tire traction. She
had no other choice but to steer straight and countdown her last seconds before escape. She grabbed
what she could and slipped her cell phone into her jean pants pocket. There was no time to put on her

jacket or grab more ammunition for her Beretta. She only wore a white t-shirt and it would not suffice
long in the damp weather, which would soon drop into the low forties.

It was less than ten seconds before the end of the road.

Emily put one hand on the door release and wrapped her fingers around it tightly.

Seven seconds…

She held firm with her right hand on the steering wheel, managing to keep the car moving straight.

Five seconds…
 She counted down in her mind and hoped that Rick would find her.

Three seconds…

She stiffly readied herself. Jamming the gearshift in reverse, allowing her vehicle to grind and

groan in protest.

One second…

Emily pulled the handle, pushed the driver’s door open with all of her strength, and jumped. She

hit the ground hard jarring her bones, careful to cover her face as bushes and branches scraped every
inch of her body. She rolled for what seemed like minutes, but it was only three or four seconds. Her
arms and legs flopped as she rolled, hitting uneven lumps of earth as she freed herself from the
oncoming SUV.

Her fall was not over yet.

The ground seemed to give way underneath her and she felt like she was floating in space, her
body lifeless and isolated, ten million miles away from earth. She could hear a car engine idling in
the distance and it seemed to move slowly away.

Her surroundings were dark.

Blinking her eyes numerous times to bring anything into focus, the night remained shadowy. She
did not see any car headlights and wondered if she had hit her head hard, becoming blinded upon the
sudden impact.

With a hard body blow, Emily hit the earth again and continued to roll and slide in a downward
motion. She descended downhill. She stiffened her legs and tried to dig her heels into the dirt, while
reaching her hands outward to grab onto anything. The large forest turned into a rollercoaster ride.
She kept trying to stop the momentum using her hands and feet. It took a few more seconds before she

halted abruptly in between two large pine trees.

Emily sat upright with her legs out in front of her. She tried to slow her breathing and remained

quiet. It was unclear if the killer had seen her jump from her vehicle or if he assumed she took the
plunge with her car over the edge of the cliff.

The loud pounding in her ears was just her heavy breathing returning to normal. She slowly
moved her arms and legs judiciously, but nothing seemed to be broken. Her left hip and foot

developed a throbbing pain almost instantly. She ran her left hand gently over her body to see if she
had any gaping or bleeding wounds that needed immediate attention.

The distinct metallic taste of blood filled her dry mouth. Emily felt the right side of her lip and
down by her chin, which was wet with blood. As she sat in the same position for several minutes, her
eyes became accustomed to the darkness. She could see the tree outlines and the steep grade she had
tumbled down.

The forest stood quiet all around her.

Tall.

Looming.

Trees, branches, and various sized bushes remained still—not a leaf moved. There was not a
sound from the wildlife or the gunning of a car engine. It was motionless and strangely silent all
around her.

The moist air and fog clusters dominated Emily’s sinuses. The chill crept in and made her shiver.
She knew it was not as cold as she felt. The trauma of the impact of falling and lack of warmth made
her body acutely aware of the environment.
 Sleepiness battled her focus and attention. A strange numbness tried to overtake her.

She clenched and released her fists trying to regain strength and circulation.

Emily leaned forward and swung her legs underneath herself before she stood up. Wobbly at first,

she managed to stand up straight using a tree trunk for support. She was not sure if she suffered from
dizziness since her vision of the night was dim. Shadows floated around her and the forest layout
seemed to morph and change each time she tried to study the outlines of the trees.

The main objective was still the same. Locate and rescue Jeannie Sanders. It did not matter how

much Emily’s body hurt or the fact that she was scared of the unknown, she knew that Jeannie was
alone and terrified. That purpose was more important than some bumps and bruises. It was only a
matter of time before the killer returned to his special hiding place and killed the little girl.

Emily retrieved her cell phone from her pocket and pressed the button to activate it. The light of
the screen brightened, casting an unnatural glow around her. Her phone still worked. The screen had
a jagged crack across it horizontally, but she could still read the apps and numbers. The signal symbol
still showed no connection.

Emily exhaled noisily.

She felt defeated and extremely alone.

Gathering her wits and strength, she moved forward because there was no time to feel
overwhelmed and there was no other choice but to climb back up to the main road. There she could
reevaluate the location—one step at a time.

Alert and hyper-aware of her rugged surroundings, Emily made slow progress of climbing back
up to the road. Her teeth chattered from the falling temperature. Her exposed arms were numb from
the night air even though she could feel trickling perspiration running down her back.
 There was no actual trail to follow so she drifted to the left near where her SUV took a dive.

From her cell phone clock, it revealed fifteen minutes had passed after she reached the spot where

she had started her descent. She kept her cell phone in her pocket, careful not to attract attention with
the light if the killer waited in the darkness for her to return.

Emily stood on the high edge and tuned toward the forest. She listened for anything that did not
belong in the natural setting—anything—a soft snap of a twig, a footstep, or the sound of a cooling
engine.

Nothing.

Fatigue and determination worked together, which fueled Emily’s mind back through the
investigation from the beginning. The suspects, the evidence, and the victims knitted together the
clues.

The name Tick-Tock Killer made her skin crawl. Her anger rose because of everything it stood
for, and all of the innocent victims that had been lost. By naming a serial killer, news agencies and the
public did not realize that they were helping the killers with their celebrity status with a catchy name.
All of those serial killer names resonated with the public and became synonymous long after the

killer’s crime sprees ended, and the newness of the crimes faded away. Those given names lasted
forever.

Emily peered over the rim of the cliff, not venturing too close to the edge. It was just as dark as
the rest of her surroundings—one big black hole. She wished that she had grabbed her flashlight
instead of treading carefully in the dark hoping that she would not fall into a hole or walk off the
edge.

Looking up at the sky, she saw a small area where the clouds and fog had parted. More light
illuminated the forest. Emily saw that there was another trail on the far side of the road. It must have
been where the killer disappeared to so easily.

She glanced at her phone. The signal wavered in and out of range. She took a chance and sent a
text message to Rick: End of road east location. SUV gone. On foot. Running out of time. Put cops

on standby.

Emily knew that Rick would understand her cryptic message and that she would not stop searching
until she rescued the girl. They had a secret protocol to follow, which they both knew well. From
most of their searches, they found the victim, alive or dead, and then emailed the information to the

cops anonymously.

Sometimes the situation was a little more complicated.

She decided to walk the small roadway and kept to the side as far as she could in order to blend
into the shadows. The path was surprisingly smooth compared to the main road. It was as if someone
had taken a heavy piece of earth moving equipment and leveled it out. It had fresh fine gravel that
crunched under foot. Still, she moved to the farthest side of the roadway in the soft dirt where her
footsteps became silent.

The cloud cover moved around overhead. Sometimes the light from the partial moon would be
bright enough to see the leaves on the trees and the gravel on the ground. Other times, she could
barely see her hand in front of her face.

Emily estimated that she had walked a mile to a mile and half. The walking motion made her
bumps and bruises a constant, uncomfortable pain.

A low hum cut through the quiet night. It kept the same rhythm. It sounded strange, even
otherworldly. Emily knew that it would not be someone working in the state park or a utility worker
doing routine maintenance. She hoped it was the killer and she would catch him before it was too
late.

Emily quickened her footsteps and headed deeper into the wooded area.

There were only five bullets left in her gun. It would have to suffice.
 CHAPTER FOUR

Tuesday 2300 Hours

THE AIR TEMPERATURE HAD DROPPED, which left a significant frosty chill in the air. Rick’s labored
breath from the physical exertion floated around him like a cloud as he held firmly to the chainsaw.
The loud nerve-wracking buzz of the blade making contact with the tree overpowered his hearing. He
was concerned that he would not hear properly for hours. It was his first experience with the heavy

power tool and most likely would be the last. The only mildly enjoyable aspect to the tree cutting was
the wonderful aroma it exuded with the fresh clean outdoor scent.

Rick’s mind struggled with Emily’s possible encounters. The memories of camping when he was
kid also came to mind. He noted that many times during the most stressful and anxious situations, the
most enjoyable childhood memories would pop into his head. He did not know if it was a release
valve for his brain, which allowed him to endure traumatic experiences but it was better than the
alternative.

The weight of the chainsaw gained more bulk with every passing second.

Rick gritted his teeth as the blade pushed through a large section of the branch.

In between sawing bursts, he could see the utility worker in his peripheral watching him—
sometimes the man’s face was curiosity mixed with concern.

Rick set down the chainsaw with much needed relief. His shoulders and forearms were sore and
the strained tension in his demeanor was evident. Without waiting for any assistance, he pulled the
pieces of the huge branch to one side. Each piece weighed at least one hundred-fifty pounds.
 Time was critical.

Rick picked up his pace and gauged the width of his vehicle to the small opening he had made. It
would be tight—but it should be big enough.

Without talking to the worker or cleaning up the mess, Rick hurried back to his vehicle and
jumped inside. He turned the key and fired up the engine. Not waiting for an invitation, he
maneuvered the car to the opening.

The utility worker yelled, “It’s too narrow! You can’t make it!”

Rick punched the accelerator and the vehicle lunged forward. He had to gain some speed if he
was going to shoot the gap. He could hear the worker yelling something at him even with more
urgency, but he did not care.

“Watch out!” the man yelled again, walking toward him.

The gunning of the engine was the only loud sound that rang in Rick’s ears as he pressed the
accelerator harder. The car hesitated, wheels spun, but with some careful maneuvering, he made it
work. There was no other choice. He had to keep going forward. He turned the steering wheel slightly

from left to right.

The remnants of the branch along with smaller limbs and leaves smashed against all four
windows. It felt like he was a part of the forest and soon it would devour him. Scraping along with
the engine whine, it escalated into a blur of noise. The vehicle bucked, shimmied, and inched
forward. The temperature needle on the dash wavered erratically and the car would not take much
more abuse.

One final warning from the worker, “I told you it was not wide enough!”
 The SUV burst forth and freed itself from the tight squeeze, but headed with speed down the side

of a ravine at a steep angle. It was the only passable route to get to the main road. He pressed the

brake and it caused him to skid, turning the car sideways. If he tried to brake too much, he would flip
the vehicle and end up at the bottom of a gully. There was no other choice but to ride the hill,

strategically depress the brake, and pray for the best.

There was a small ledge ahead, which was really a washout area with level ground. Rick
managed to steer the SUV in that direction and slammed on the brakes using both feet. The vehicle
made a strange grinding sound and pulled to the right.

For a split second, Rick thought he was going to roll the car down the rest of the hill. The car
grinded to a stop and the engine died. Dust rose and mixed with the fog.

The forest remained strangely quiet as an unsettling energy filled Rick. It was the same feeling he
obtained in his gut when he was a swat officer and they were going to storm a building for a wanted
felon.

It was a lingering fear.

It was not only the fear of the unknown; it was the reality of the dangerous work involving the
worst kind of criminals—serial killers.

Rick did not know how many seconds he had waited to start the SUV again, but his hand shook
while he turned the key. With a few sputters and groaning hesitations, the car regained energy and
idled once again.

Making sure he was in four-wheel drive mode, he guided the car at a crawling pace before he
reached the road again. He rode the bouncing vehicle around the sharp drop-offs and through rocky
sections before he saw the main road.
 Rick immediately let off the gas pedal and coasted down a winding road. He engaged the high

beams and lit up the forest in front of him. He half expected to see Emily stalled out on the side of the

road.

It stayed deserted.

He drove past several picnic areas, but no other roads existed. As he drove deeper into the forest,
it became denser and more rural. Rick began to second-guess his choices; his efforts would have been
for nothing.

“Dammit!”

He banged his fists on the dashboard in pure frustration. He stopped the car and looked around in
every direction contemplating what to do next. Dense trees, overgrown brush, and patches of fog
were the only view.

His cell phone waffled in and out of signal range. There was not any message or phone call from
Emily. The longer time passed without hearing from Emily, it only meant one thing, and she needed
his help more than ever.

“Where are you, Em?” he said to himself, but hoped that soon an answer would make itself
known. Rick did not expect an audible answer, but something to indicate if he was on the right road.

He felt that he should go farther down the road before making the hasty decision to turn around
and head in the other direction. He did not want to think about trying to get through the tight squeeze
again. This was the part of the investigation he hated the most; so many things could turn bad in an
instant—too many decisions. The covert couple did not have the luxury of back up or a team to rely
on, just one another.

Rick saw the sign that he was looking for—skid marks from two vehicles. From the quick
inspection, it looked like they were travelling fast and headed down the dirt roadway ahead.

He quickly turned onto the road. It was bumpy and extremely narrow, which forced him to reduce
his speed. The dense fog accumulated in areas, making it almost impossible to see more than a few

feet in front of the bumper.

Rick looked to the right and saw areas of the road washed away. Not wanting to think about the
horrifying possibilities, Rick followed the road and moved deeper into the wilderness.
 CHAPTER FIVE

Wednesday 0030 Hours

EMILY HIKED DOWN A STEEP trail for more than half an hour, which helped to ease some of the soreness
in her back and legs from the fall down the canyon. Her approach toward the unidentified noise was

stealthy and quick, skirting in and around trees.

Several ideas ran through her mind about what could cause that particular sound—power tools,
pump of some kind, or even a generator.

Nothing seemed to fit.

The intermittent buzz of a motor echoed around her and bounced across the canyon, playing the
rhythm louder and then softer as if someone turned the volume up and down. The continuing noise
made it easy for her approach the alien hum without detection.

Her eyes had become accustomed to the darkness, but the shadows seemed to skulk all around her,
waiting for the opportune time to knock her off balance. Emily kept her focus and wits as she moved
carefully; otherwise, her vision would play senseless tricks on her with imaginary predators in the
darkness. At one point, she felt a breath on the back of her neck. She absently swiped her left hand
across the collar of her shirt. The coolness of the night air mixed with the heat of her body caused an
endless flow of perspiration.

Emily had narrowed the list of suspects to eight men that had the access and opportunity to the
abducted children. They needed the physical ability and psychological background to pull off such a
well-executed crime. From the previous cases, Emily studied the areas where the children lived,

where they frequented, and how and why they would come in contact with the killer.

The behavioral evidence left behind at the crime scene also played an important role in profiling

the killer—how it was executed, and the level of force it took to commit the crime. There was an
ease of gaining the trust of the children, and then, like clockwork their mutilated bodies were dumped
four days later—almost to the minute. It showed discipline, planning, and an organized mind. It
proved a level of high intelligence with an insatiable impulse to kill.

It did not take long for Emily and Rick to dismiss five of the eight men due to various
inconsistencies. Three men remained on their list. Twenty-nine year old Samuel Whitfield who had a
history of flashing and fondling young children was suspect number one. He worked as a handyman
for an elderly couple and received free housing in their studio apartment on the property. He did not
have the wherewithal to commit the crimes in an orderly and exact manner.

That left two suspects, which Emily and Rick divided up to save time. Emily found Terrance
Quinn at his usual dive bar hangout and Rick went and staked out Lionel Gonzales at his girlfriend’s
apartment. When Terrance left the bar, Emily followed, never expecting to randomly run into Kevin

Werner. It was as if the real killer shadowed her suspects.

Everything turned into an investigative blur, confrontation, car chase, and then she ended up in this
remote area of the forest.

Emily shivered as her t-shirt clung to her sweat-ridden torso. Goosebumps appeared on her bare
arms, but she kept moving to keep the circulation flowing in her body. Moisture poured down her
forehead weighing down her blonde hair, followed by her body shuddering from the cold temperature.
She knew that she would develop hyperthermia if she did not get warm and drink water soon. Her
stomach grumbled almost on cue when she thought about how much she needed a glass of water.
 Absently wiping her hands against her jeans, she compulsively checked to make sure that her gun

was still within easy reach. It was. The closer she ventured toward the eerie noise, the more anxious

she became. It was all a part of the hunt for killers, and her life’s work. Emily learned to read her
own small reactions and to listen to that little voice inside her head to stay alert—and to stay alive.

A large pile of gravel in a round-like heap loomed twenty feet in front of her. The moonlight
filtered through the fog occasionally, which shone on top of the mound, highlighting the various shades
of gravel. It bothered Emily how a large truck could deliver such a huge load of gravel deep inside
that forest—and why.

The sound stopped.

She stopped and stood perfectly still. Her arms were down at her sides and her breath quieted
with a gentle ease. She closed her eyes, turning off every preexisting thought of what was going to
happen.

Emily listened to everything that she could audibly identify in the forest. Even though she could
not search the area and investigate in the traditional way, she used her other senses to guide her.

No wind blew through the trees. No typical sounds of native animals or birds communicated in the
brush or overhead in the large trees. No sound of a human voice chattered.

Nothing.

It was extremely quiet.

The stillness of the woods seemed unnatural as if a predator was near and all the animals stayed
hidden to avoid detection. It made Emily think about the behavior of a serial killer systematically
stalking their victims, which had to fit their intrinsic fantasy, their burning need, their twisted desires,
and their ability to carry out the heinous crime.
 Emily decided to use the gravel mound to her advantage and quietly approached. She had to move

slowly as the rocks made a crunching sound beneath her feet.

Treading carefully, she advanced.

Emily stopped once again.

A few of the marble-sized rocks slid down the side of the pile. It made her notice how the
smallest sound in the dark could manifest crazy ideas in her mind. She quickly dismissed any other
unnecessary thoughts. A few more pieces of rock tumbled from the front and the sides causing mini

avalanches.

Emily eased close to the mound and leaned around the corner. At first, she could not see anything
other than the trees, but upon closer inspection and patience, there was the outline of a small cabin
surrounded by huge trees and low hanging limbs. The roof slanted on one side more than the other due
to lack of maintenance. The perspective made the building appear more like an asymmetrical storage
shed.

The sound started up once again.

It was easy for Emily to disseminate the noise. It was a generator.

A dim light glowed around the edges of the small dwelling.

She moved forward past the gravel and took shelter behind a tree. The blue SUV parked on the far
side of the cabin was close to the sound. Emily could see the bumper of the vehicle. Obviously, the
killer thought that Emily ended up down the ravine and he did not seem to be in a hurry with his
work.

The only thing on Emily’s mind was locating the little girl, rescuing her, and alerting the
authorities. She had to verify that the child was inside the cabin.

Time had the annoying attribute to tick forward no matter what happened.

Emily glanced at her cell phone. The signal status had not changed—it was nonexistent this far

into the wooded forest. Up until now, Emily had not thought about Rick, and that she should wait for
backup.

Slipping the cell phone from her pocket, she took a few photographs of the area in a panoramic
succession for documentation, even though she did not use her flash. It still offered some record of the

site. She zoomed in on the bumper of the SUV and snapped a shot of the license plate number. Emily
always took extra care to record any scene, whether it was useful for potential evidence or not.

She doubled back around the cabin away from the car and the noise of the generator. The dirt was
soft beneath her feet and had been turned and raked recently. Emily estimated the length and width of
the area to be about nine-by-twelve feet. She could not take the time to investigate if the killer had
buried anyone recently, but she documented the area quickly.

Time was running out.

Emily moved forward with more urgency. She could smell fresh cut firewood, exhaust, and
machine grease. It was a strange combination. She eased down the side of the cabin where there was
a window. When she reached the window and dared to peer inside, the opening was blocked by
something dark. It was most likely a blanket or sheet covering the opening.

She listened intently for any sound of a child.

There was nothing.

Jeannie had to be inside the cabin.

 Unless…

Emily mixed frustration and anxiety, and the possibility that she was too late. It almost
overwhelmed her. Her heart pounded as horrific thoughts of dead children plagued her mind. The

disturbing images were now commonplace for Emily. She did not want to confide in Rick about her
deep and frequent terrifying thoughts. Rick would worry—and it would be senseless and
unproductive. She had to work through it.

Emily frantically peered into the blocked window again—hoping for some indication that the little

girl was inside. At the far right corner, a tear in the shade provided a sliver of a view inside the
structure.

It was almost completely dark. Emily refocused her eyes, backed away from the building for a
moment, and then intently pressed her face at the crack.

Something moved.

She almost jumped backward in surprise, but realized that someone was inside. There was
movement again.

The evening light turned up a degree as the clouds and fog parted just enough to allow some
illumination. Emily saw that the outline inside was that of a little girl and she fit the general physical
description of Jeannie. It appeared that the little girl’s hands and legs were secured by something
heavy like rope or chain.

Jeannie was alive.

Emily could not wait for help or the local cops to arrive before Werner killed the child. She dared
to take her eyes away from the little girl. She wanted desperately to tell her that help was here and
that she was not alone.
 Carefully moving with her back pressed against the building, Emily risked exposing herself. She

had no other choice.

A man in dark overalls was bent over the large SUV’s engine. She could see that there was

damage to the front bumper and quarter panel. He worked diligently on one of the components under
the hood.

Emily knew it was Kevin Werner by the glimpse of him in the blue SUV. By casual observation,
most people would think he was an ordinary, hardworking guy. The truth was that he blended well

into society and offered no physical indication that he was a predator and a violent serial killer with
an affinity for children. His biggest secret was hidden under a mask of normalcy. Most people want
serial killers to look like a monster, but what evil lurked inside him was completely different from
what was visible to the world.

Serial killers were the best actors of all.

Emily spotted several tools lying on a small fold out table. She estimated the steps to face the
killer. She knew the typical protocol—search, identify, secure, and report. It would be so easy to take
aim and pull the trigger. No one would know who killed Werner, especially the cops.

Emily wrestled with her conscience on every case she investigated. There was always some
reason not to lower her abilities and intelligence to the level of the killers she hunted. These were the
true predators of society. It was becoming more difficult to resist the urge to take out the evil parts of
society—just the gentle squeeze of the trigger would be all that was necessary.

She felt something had changed deep within her soul over the past few months; something was
different. Emily did not want to face her internal demons because she hunted the real ones in the flesh,
but now her own demons afflicted her day and night.
 Werner grumbled something inaudible as he snatched one of the crescent wrenches from the table.

He worked meticulously bent over the engine compartment. The tools were arranged in specific

order, meticulous, and each wiped cleaned after each use. His subtle behaviors and actions showed
some of the workings into his criminal mind.

On the killer’s right arm were two wristwatches. They both looked similar and ordinary. It
seemed odd, but it was also a nugget of insight into his mindset.

Emily watched him for a couple of minutes.

It would be so easy to shoot him in the back of the head—too easy.

She inched forward directing her gun at him. She quietly closed the gap between her and the
killer. All she had to do was restrain him, release the girl, and alert the cops.

Simple.

Emily held her breath and continued to move forward. She had the upper hand.

A small voice cried out from inside the cabin, “Help me, please…”

Emily turned her attention for an instant toward the little girl’s plea.

Before she could direct her attention back at Werner, a heavy fist bashed the side of her face.

Emily tried to fight the feeling of weakness as she dropped to the ground. The gun released from
her hand and rested in the dirt.

Breath expelled from her lungs.

She was still semi-conscious as she lay on her side. Her limited view of the ground was of a pair
of heavy work boots covered in muddy soil.
 A hard blow from a solid object struck Emily once again.

Her eyelids felt strangely heavy and her face went numb. Her last floating thought was that she
was so tired.

Everything went black.

 CHAPTER SIX

Wednesday 0130 Hours

RICK DROVE SLOWLY IN AND out of the fog clusters along the rural dirt road. There were areas of the
path recently travelled by cars. The weeds and small brush compressed by obvious tire patterns. He

wondered how far Emily had driven.

He slowed his speed.

There were sharp corners and death defying drops from the road. The forest became extremely
dense, but Rick continued.

The cell phone made chirps when he had a signal for brief moments. He glanced at the screen, but
the signal dropped off again. Recalling Emily’s last communication, Rick knew that she would not
stop until the killer was restrained and the little girl was safe. Emily’s voice indicated that she was

under extreme stress and that worried him.

How much trauma and danger could one person handle?

Emily had experienced more killers and dangerous situations than many cops saw in a lifetime of
duty.

It troubled Rick.

He came to a clearing where he could see the roadway. There were recent deep divots and skid
marks in the dirt.
 He stopped the car, cut the engine, and jumped out.

Turning on a flashlight and slowly directing the beam back and forth across the road, Rick studied
the impressions on the ground. It was obvious that two cars had made contact by the disturbance left

behind. Two sets of tires had dug into the landscape leaving grooves that were deep; one set was
approximately twenty percent larger than the one in the front. From the placement and level of
intensity, and broken taillight pieces, it appeared one car pushed the other one.

Rick looked around and listened for any indication of movement.

The fog wafted in cloudy sections around the trees and in between dense brush. The forest exuded
a strange silence that was not easy to ignore. It made Rick shrug his shoulders and move back to his
vehicle.

He sat staring straight ahead into the murky fog. His instinct and experience told him that
something was wrong—very wrong. Emily’s safety was all that mattered and he had to find her
immediately.

Rick looked at his cell phone, almost willing it to tell him something of importance.

Nothing.

No signal.

He did not see any side roads off the main so-called road, so he decided to continue to drive
deeper into the forest.

He turned the engine over; the SUV came to life and idled smoothly. He did not immediately move
forward. The shadows all around seemed to shift with his view. The unknown environment in the
middle of the night was something he had never experienced before and it unnerved him.
 Rick put the car into drive and took his foot from the brake. This time he coasted slowly along the

path searching for anything that would direct him in the right direction. The roadway narrowed

drastically. The forest pushed toward the path with huge branches and overgrown bushes.

The car continued to roll forward.

The loose gravel pressed under the tires as low branches scraped the sides of the vehicle.

The moon brightened the outdoors as the clouds parted just enough to give new light to the forest.

Rick clicked up the lights to high beams and it revealed a cliff drop off at the end of the road.
There were no side roads visible, just the long drop.

“No…” Rick murmured.

He could see the skid impressions that ended at the edge of the path—nothing but more darkness
after a plunge to a hundred feet below.

He had followed the trail and it led to the end.

Rick jumped out of the vehicle. His heart raced. He waved the flashlight erratically to look for
anything that would prove that Emily was okay, possibly thrown from the vehicle, or maybe he had
missed something—anything. The beam illuminated the jagged drop to a depth that Rick could not
begin to estimate how long it would take a car to hit the bottom.

“Em…”

The flashlight beam caught the reflection from Emily’s SUV more than a hundred feet below. The
car was a mangled twisted piece of metal that no one could have ever survived—not even Emily
Stone.
 His heart sank. The pit of his stomach ached with unbridled anguish and his soul felt torn out of

his body. Tears flowed. He had only cried once when he lost his dad, but he was still in college at the

time.

Rick dropped to his knees at the precipice… he began to pray. The words flowed freely from his
lips from anger, remorse, and guilt. It was something that he had not done in a long time, since
childhood. Even then, it was the prayers of a silly child, and not from a grown man who had tried to
do the right things in life.

He did not know how long he sat at the edge of the cliff recalling every detail of Emily’s face and
their time together. Time did not seem to have any authority over him anymore. His sadness slowly
grew into anger, and the anger steadily produced revenge and hatred.

The killer was still somewhere in the remote area of the forest. He was going to kill again and
was most likely killing Jeannie Sanders at that moment. The Tick-Tock Killer’s days were numbered
and Rick would spend every waking moment to locate and kill him.

He slowly pulled himself together and stood up. He still could not break his stare away from the
SUV below. Everything gave the impression of an unreality and dreamlike apparition. The air chilled

down another few degrees and a slight breeze picked up and whistled through the huge pine trees.

A chirp alerted him that his cell phone was within range again.

He turned off the flashlight. The ravine went black. The forest all around him went motionless as
an uncomfortable stillness ensued. He could not smell the fresh pine scent. It was as if he went numb
and lost his acute senses.

The smashed SUV would be an image that he would never forget.

His phone buzzed inside his pocket.

 Out of habit, Rick retrieved the phone and the bright screen announced that he had a text message.

It was from Emily. He almost did not want to read her last words to him, but swiped the screen with

his index finger out of habit.

It read: End of road east location. SUV gone. On foot. Running out of time. Put cops on
standby.

He could not believe what he was reading. Sent about an hour ago, it meant that Emily was alive
and still hunting down the killer.

Relief instantly filled Rick’s body as he let out a loud exhale. He moved toward his car and
noticed that his legs were wobbly and he felt lightheaded. Soon the sensations passed. A new energy
revitalized him, hope and tenacity pushed him forward to find which way Emily had gone and to find
the serial killer.
 CHAPTER SEVEN

Wednesday 0200 Hours

THE CONSTANT THUNDERING MATCHED THE intensity of a dozen drummers, which filled her ears and
buzzed inside her head in an excruciating manner. A penetrating pain immediately followed suit in

intensity and continued to wind its way down the back of her neck.

Emily tried to move, but could not budge her arms and legs. It was as if frozen in space. Her
eyelids remained closed tightly, and no matter how hard she tried, they would not open.

She had to rely on her sensations to make sense of her situation.

The pungent odor of wet earth and rotting meat filled her nose. Nausea crept up from her stomach
and almost caused an involuntary reaction to vomit. A cool dampness pressed up against her right
cheek, which made an unexpected warm sensation but it was not comforting. The wave of odors kept

her immediate attention, which made it almost impossible to think about anything else. Recent
memories pieced together in her lagging thought process.

Emily tried to place the familiar rank smell, but it just kept bombarding her nose and lungs. It was
an odor that she knew, but did not remember what it was as she tried to catalog the usual things that
she did already know. It was difficult to think straight. The harder she tried to recall the growing
stink, the more her head fought back with an agonizing discomfort.

There was something pressed up against her back, soft, pliable, and some sections more solid. As
she breathed slowly and with more of a controlled manner, Emily stretched her back and raised her
shoulders. She levered herself into another position. She could not push backward any farther

because of something blocking her body, so she tried to lean forward to free herself.

With her eyes closed, Emily slowly moved her body an inch at a time. She managed to open her

left eye. Nothing came into view. For an instant, she thought she had gone blind. Her surroundings
looked like a dark blur, resembling a camera lens out of focus.

Her right eye had a sticky wet substance permeating along the lashes making it difficult to open.
The sting of her face and eye sobered her thinking and she realized it was the result of several well-

placed blows. Her body jerked as she remembered the first sucker punch she took from the killer, and
that was the last thing she remembered.

Emily gasped. Her mouth opened slightly as she began to put the pieces together of what had
happened. She tasted the metallic blood along with damp soil. Her hands and wrists were pinned
underneath something with some weight to it. She wriggled her lean body, arms, and legs. Pressing
with her arms almost to a push up pose, Emily managed to change her position and free her left hand.

Dizziness came in sickening waves along with stomach nausea. She used her intense focus to
disregard how awful she felt. She quickly touched her face, felt a couple of tender welts, and wiped

the blood from her right eye.

Emily looked around.

The horror of the scene assaulted her with an unrelenting devastation. No words could adequately
describe what surrounded her.

There were small body parts poking up from the earth, an arm, leg, and part of a torso. They were
dismembered. The top of a skull with patches of hair still attached made Emily gag, but she could not
avert her gaze for a few more seconds. In one corner, wadded up pieces of clothing halfway buried
was carelessly included in the grave. The vileness of the scene stopped Emily and she could not think

of anything else.

Air trapped inside her lungs.

Her hands shook uncontrollably.

She was not sure what she felt, anger, rage, disgust, or deep sadness that she could not save these
children in time. It was a mixture of all these emotions and it ate away at her. A chunk of her heart
was forever dead.

There could be more victims than the police were currently investigating in that grave. Did anyone
report them missing? Were they from another area, jurisdiction, or state?

So many questions plagued Emily about the atrocity.

Emily had dreams like this, buried with victims that could not be saved in time—her nightmare
now came to life. She used all of her strength to sit upright, still partially buried. Clumped dirt and
gravel, which covered part of her body, had almost completely buried her legs.

The moonlight shone on the landscape and illuminated the scene with a macabre glare. The night
turned colder and the fog began to dissipate. The chill in the air turned to a frosty ambiance.

Moving with determination, raking debris from her body, Emily managed to free her legs.

She was lying in the large hole that she had previously walked over. The grave served as a
private dumping ground. Werner must have dug up the area while she was unconscious.

The killer had tossed her body into the grave thinking that she was already dead. Since she was an
adult woman, she did not ignite any type of fantasy or need for the ritual process. He had made his
first mistake not killing her when he had the chance.
 As she thought more about it, there was too much organization to his behavior to believe that he

did not know that she was alive. She realized that the killer in fact did not make a mistake. Kevin

Werner wanted her to live; he knew exactly what he was doing. It was a well- executed message
directed at her—and only to her.

Find me—I dare you.

His intelligence and cleverness became apparent in his actions and he would be a dangerous
opponent to take down. The Tick-Tock Killer loved his notoriety and everything that it had afforded

him in his quest.

Emily waited and listened.

The forest gave its usual solitude and stillness. No sound came from the generator.

Emily’s wits were the only weapon she had left to get the upper hand in the situation. Her gun was
gone. She had nothing to defend herself. She only had minutes to make some quick decisions, but her
instincts told her that he was already gone.

Emily scrambled out of the hole on her hands and knees. The pain in her mind from the scene

almost made her vomit on the spot. It took a moment before she stood up. The lack of food and water
combined with the various injuries made her even weaker than she ever felt before.

Her frosty breath swirled in front of her. The coolness of the air slapped her bare skin and stung
her face. The earth in the grave was warmer, and now exposed to the elements made Emily shiver and
her teeth chatter.

She wandered to the opposite side of the cabin and slowly peered around the corner. Nothing
mattered anymore. Her body and mind damaged and her usual unrelenting drive was gone. The
demons had won.
 The blue SUV was gone.

All the tools were gone.

The front area looked tidy and carefully raked in perfect sections.

The cabin door was wide open.

The killer had escaped and left her to pick up the pieces and become the victim of trauma.

The small table was in front of the cabin door had her gun lying on it. The killer mocked her. It

appeared to say, come and get me if you dare.

Quickly, Emily picked up the gun and checked the ammunition. The remaining bullets were still
loaded in the magazine.

A feeling of dread overwhelmed her.

Emily stood at the threshold of the cabin. It was dark inside. She did not know how long she
waited before entering the small building. Compared to the tidy outdoors, the interior was messy and
disorganized. Firewood, miscellaneous tarps, and boxes cluttered the small area and there was an old

chair with torn upholstery in the corner. No other pieces of furniture were inside, no bed, no
refrigerator, no stove. It appeared to be a resting spot, storage, or a place to hide out.

Behind the tattered old recliner, Emily spotted a tip of a small shoe. She rushed in without any
regard for her safety.

Jeannie Sanders lay motionless on the filthy floor. She was still dressed in the same jeans and
pink hoodie that she was last seen wearing almost four days ago. Her arms were straight down at her
sides, hair recently brushed, and her eyes kept a fixed gaze.
 “NO!”

Blood had stained the girl’s neck and pooled around her head. Her throat, cut with an extremely
sharp blade, left a gapping mortal wound.

Dropping to her knees next to the little girl, Emily took her limp body in her arms and cradled her.
She stroked her hair and hugged her tightly. The tears flowed down Emily’s face and mixed with the
blood and mud.

Emily whispered, “I’m so sorry… so sorry… please forgive me…”

 CHAPTER EIGHT

Wednesday 0300 Hours

RICK SEARCHED THE AREA AROUND the last sets of skid marks and up along the road, daring to use
headlights every so often to see along the hiking path. It had taken him a while to find the improvised

driveway off the main roadway, camouflaged by precisely cut branches and overgrown bushes. The
killer had taken extra precautions to hide the road. New gravel recently added was the perfect
security alert when anyone walked or drove along it.

Rick eased the SUV as far as he dared without becoming stuck or sliding off the edge down into a
canyon. He expertly maneuvered the vehicle in a horizontal angle across the path to keep anyone from
leaving.

It felt like a war now. Something was different about this investigation. It was difficult to
precisely pinpoint the reason why. Rick had been involved in so many homicide investigations when

he was a detective, and stared into the eyes of cold-blooded killers. This case felt different,
unsettling, and unpredictable for lack of a better description.

He checked his Glock and grabbed an extra magazine. There was no telling what he would run
into farther into the forest. Rick thought through every conceivable scenario, but kept his mind alert.
Knowing Emily and her unrelenting abilities of searching for a missing child, Rick hoped that she had
already secured the killer, hogtied him, and was waiting.

Rick took a flashlight, extra zip ties, heavy windbreaker, and his cell phone from the car. After
throwing on a jacket, he jogged along the path and immediately noticed the amount of noise his
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And sometimes injury, like a lamb enthralled
'Mid thorns and brambles; or a bird that breaks
Through a strong net, and mounts upon the wind,
Though with her plumes impaired. If they, whose souls
Should open while they range the richer fields
175
Of merry England, are obstructed less,
By indigence, their ignorance is not less,
Nor less to be deplored. For who can doubt
That tens of thousands at this day exist
Such as the boy you painted, lineal heirs
180
Of those who once were vassals of her soil,
Following its fortunes like the beasts or trees
Which it sustained. But no one takes delight
In this oppression; none are proud of it;
It bears no sounding name, nor ever bore;
185
A standing grievance, an indigenous vice
Of every country under heaven. My thoughts
Were turned to evils that are new and chosen,
A bondage lurking under shape of good,—
Arts, in themselves beneficent and kind,
190
But all too fondly followed and too far;—
To victims, which the merciful can see
Nor think that they are victims—turned to wrongs,
By women, who have children of their own,
Beheld without compassion, yea with praise!
195
I spake of mischief by the wise diffused[834]
With gladness, thinking that the more it spreads
The healthier, the securer, we become;
Delusion which a moment may destroy!
Lastly I mourned for those whom I had seen
200
Corrupted and cast down, on favoured ground,
Where circumstance and nature had combined
To shelter innocence, and cherish love;
Who, but for this intrusion, would have lived,
Possessed of health, and strength, and peace of mind;
205
Thus would have lived, or never have been born!
 "Alas! what differs more than man from man!
And whence that difference? Whence but from himself?
For see the universal Race endowed
With the same upright form!—The sun is fixed,
210
And the infinite magnificence of heaven
Fixed, within reach[835] of every human eye;
The sleepless ocean murmurs for all ears;
The vernal field infuses fresh delight
Into all hearts. Throughout the world of sense,
215
Even as an object is sublime or fair,
That object is laid open to the view
Without reserve or veil; and as a power
Is salutary, or an influence sweet,
Are each and all enabled to perceive
220
That power, that influence, by impartial law.
Gifts nobler are vouchsafed alike to all;
Reason, and, with that reason, smiles and tears;
Imagination, freedom in the will;
Conscience to guide and check; and death to be
225
Foretasted, immortality conceived
By all,—a blissful immortality,
To them whose holiness on earth shall make
The Spirit capable of heaven, assured.[836]
Strange, then, nor less than monstrous, might be deemed
230
The failure, if the Almighty, to this point
Liberal[837] and undistinguishing, should hide
The excellence of moral qualities
From common understanding; leaving truth
And virtue, difficult, abstruse, and dark;
235
Hard to be won, and only by a few;
Strange, should He deal herein with nice respects,
And frustrate all the rest! Believe it not:
The primal duties shine aloft—like stars;
The charities that soothe, and heal, and bless,
240
Are scattered at the feet of Man—like flowers.
The generous inclination, the just rule,
Kind wishes, and good actions, and pure thoughts—
No mystery is here! Here is no boon
For high—yet not for low; for proudly graced—
245
Yet[838] not for meek of heart. The smoke ascends
To heaven as lightly from the cottage-hearth
As from the haughtiest[839] palace. He, whose soul
Ponders this true equality, may walk
The fields of earth with gratitude and hope;
250
Yet, in that meditation, will he find
Motive to sadder grief, as we have found;
Lamenting ancient virtues overthrown,
And for the injustice grieving, that hath made
So wide a difference between[840] man and man.

255
"Then let us rather fix our gladdened thoughts[841]
Upon the brighter scene. How blest that pair
Of blooming Boys (whom we beheld even now)
Blest in their several and their common lot!
A few short hours of each returning day
260
The thriving prisoners of their village-school:
And thence let loose, to seek their pleasant homes
Or range the grassy lawn in vacancy;
To breathe and to be happy, run and shout
Idle,—but no delay, no harm, no loss;
265
For every genial power of heaven and earth,
Through all the seasons of the changeful year,
Obsequiously doth take upon herself
To labour for them; bringing each in turn
The tribute of enjoyment, knowledge, health,
270
Beauty, or strength! Such privilege is theirs,
Granted alike in the outset of their course
To both; and, if that partnership must cease,
I grieve not," to the Pastor here he turned,
"Much as I glory in that child of yours,
275
Repine not for his cottage-comrade, whom
Belike no higher destiny awaits
Than the old hereditary wish fulfilled;
The wish for liberty to live—content
With what Heaven grants, and die—in peace of mind,
280
Within the bosom of his native vale.
At least, whatever fate the noon of life
Reserves for either, sure it is[842] that both
Have been permitted to enjoy the dawn;
Whether regarded as a jocund time,
285
That in itself may terminate, or lead
In course of nature to a sober eve.
Both have been fairly dealt with; looking back
They will allow that justice has in them
Been shown, alike to body and to mind."

290
He paused, as if revolving in his soul
Some weighty matter; then, with fervent voice
And an impassioned majesty, exclaimed—

"O for the coming of that glorious time

When, prizing knowledge as her noblest wealth
295
And best protection, this imperial Realm
While she exacts allegiance, shall admit
An obligation, on her part, to teach
Them who are born to serve her and obey;
Binding herself by statute[KO] to secure
300
For all the children whom her soil maintains
The rudiments of letters, and inform[843]
The mind with moral and religious truth,
Both understood and practised,—so that none,
However destitute, be left to droop
305
By timely culture unsustained; or run
Into a wild disorder; or be forced
To drudge through a weary life without the help[844]
Of intellectual implements and tools;
A savage horde among the civilised,
310
A servile band among the lordly free!
This sacred right, the lisping babe proclaims[845]
To be inherent in him, by Heaven's will,
For the protection of his innocence;
And the rude boy—who, having overpast
315
The sinless age, by conscience is enrolled,
Yet mutinously knits his angry brow,
And lifts his wilful hand on mischief bent,
Or turns the godlike[846] faculty of speech
To impious use—by process indirect
320
Declares his due, while he makes known his need.
—This sacred right is fruitlessly announced,
This universal plea in vain addressed,
To eyes and ears of parents who themselves
Did, in the time of their necessity,
325
Urge it in vain; and, therefore, like a prayer
That from the humblest floor ascends to heaven,
It mounts to reach the State's parental ear;
Who, if indeed she own a mother's heart,
And be not most unfeelingly devoid
330
Of gratitude to Providence, will grant
The unquestionable good—which, England, safe
From interference of external force,
May grant at leisure; without risk incurred
That what in wisdom for herself she doth,
335
Others shall e'er be able to undo.

"Look! and behold, from Calpe's sunburnt cliffs[KP]

To the flat margin of the Baltic sea,
Long-reverenced titles cast away as weeds;
Laws overturned; and territory split,
340
Like fields of ice rent by the polar wind,
And forced to join in less obnoxious shapes
[847]
Which,[847] ere they gain consistence, by a gust
Of the same breath are shattered and destroyed.
Meantime the sovereignty of these fair Isles
345
Remains entire and indivisible:
And, if that ignorance were removed, which breeds[848]
Within the compass of their several shores
Dark discontent, or loud commotion, each
Might still preserve[849] the beautiful repose
350
Of heavenly bodies shining in their spheres.
—The discipline of slavery is unknown
Among[850] us,—hence the more do we require
The discipline of virtue; order else
Cannot subsist, nor confidence, nor peace.
355
Thus, duties rising out of good possest
And prudent caution needful to avert
Impending evil, equally require
That the whole people should be taught and trained.[851]
So shall licentiousness and black resolve
360
Be rooted out, and virtuous habits take
Their place; and genuine piety descend,
Like[852] an inheritance, from age to age.

"With such foundations laid, avaunt the fear

Of numbers crowded on their native soil,
365
To the prevention of all healthful growth
Through mutual injury! Rather in the law
Of increase and the mandate from above
Rejoice!—and ye have special cause for joy.
—For, as the element of air affords
370
An easy passage to the industrious bees
Fraught with their burthens; and a way as smooth
For those ordained to take their sounding flight
From the thronged hive, and settle where they list
In fresh abodes—their labour to renew;
375
So the wide waters, open to the power,
So t e de ate s, ope to t e po e ,
The will, the instincts, and appointed needs
Of Britain, do invite her to cast off
Her swarms, and in succession send them forth;
Bound to establish new communities
380
On every shore whose aspect favours hope
Or bold adventure; promising to skill
And perseverance their deserved reward.

"Yes," he continued, kindling as he spake,

"Change wide, and deep, and silently performed,
385
This Land shall witness; and as days roll on,
Earth's universal frame shall feel the effect;
Even till the smallest habitable rock,
Beaten by lonely billows, hear the songs
Of humanised society; and bloom
With civil arts, that shall breathe forth their fragrance,[853]
391
A grateful tribute to all-ruling Heaven.
From culture, unexclusively bestowed
On Albion's noble Race in freedom born,[854]
Expect these mighty issues: from the pains
395
And faithful[855] care of unambitious schools
Instructing simple childhood's ready ear:
Thence look for these magnificent results!
—Vast the circumference of hope—and ye
Are at its centre, British Lawgivers;
Ah! sleep not there in shame! Shall Wisdom's voice
401
From out the bosom of these troubled times
Repeat the dictates of her calmer mind,
And shall the venerable halls ye fill
Refuse to echo the sublime decree?
405
Trust not to partial care a general good;
Transfer not to futurity a work
Of urgent need.—Your Country must complete
Her glorious destiny. Begin even now,
Now, when oppression, like the Egyptian plague
410
Of darkness, stretched o'er guilty Europe,[KQ] makes
The brightness more conspicuous that invests
The happy Island where ye think and act;
Now, when destruction is a prime pursuit,
Show to the wretched nations for what end
415
The powers of civil polity were given."

Abruptly here, but with a graceful air,

The Sage broke off. No sooner had he ceased
Than, looking forth, the gentle Lady said,
"Behold the shades of afternoon have fallen
420
Upon this flowery slope; and see—beyond—
The silvery lake is streaked with placid blue;[856]
As if preparing for the peace of evening.[KR]
How temptingly the landscape shines! The air
Breathes invitation; easy is the walk
425
To the lake's margin, where a boat lies moored
Under a[857] sheltering tree."—Upon this hint
We rose together: all were pleased; but most
The beauteous girl, whose cheek was flushed with joy.
Light as a sunbeam glides along the hills
430
She vanished—eager to impart the scheme
To her loved brother and his shy compeer.
—Now was there bustle in the Vicar's house
And earnest preparation.—Forth we went,
And down the vale along the streamlet's edge[858]
435
Pursued our way, a broken company,
Mute or conversing, single or in pairs.
Thus having reached a bridge, that overarched
The hasty rivulet where it lay becalmed
In a deep pool, by happy chance we saw
440
A two-fold image; on a grassy bank
A snow-white ram, and in the crystal flood
Another and the same! Most beautiful,
On the green turf, with his imperial front
Shaggy and bold and wreathèd horns superb
Shaggy and bold, and wreathèd horns superb,
445
The breathing creature stood; as beautiful,
Beneath him, shewed his shadowy counterpart.
Each had his glowing mountains, each his sky,
And each seemed centre of his own fair world:
Antipodes unconscious of each other,
450
Yet, in partition, with their several spheres,
Blended in perfect stillness, to our sight![KS]

"Ah! what a pity were it to disperse,

Or to disturb, so fair a spectacle,
And yet a breath can do it!"
These few words
455
The Lady whispered, while we stood and gazed
Gathered together, all in still delight,
Not without awe. Thence passing on, she said
In like low voice to my particular ear,
"I love to hear that eloquent old Man
460
Pour forth his meditations, and descant
On human life from infancy to age.
How pure his spirit! in what vivid hues
His mind gives back the various forms of things,
Caught in their fairest, happiest, attitude!
465
While he is speaking, I have power to see
Even as he sees; but when his voice hath ceased,
Then, with a sigh, sometimes I feel,[859] as now,
That combinations so serene and bright
Cannot be lasting in a world like ours,
470
Whose highest beauty, beautiful as it is,
Like that reflected in yon quiet pool,
Seems but a fleeting sun-beam's gift, whose peace
The sufferance only of a breath of air!"[860]

More had she said—but sportive shouts were heard

475
Sent from the jocund hearts of those two Boys,
Who, bearing each a basket on his arm,
 g
Down the green field came tripping after us.
With caution we embarked; and now the pair
For prouder service were addrest; but each,
480
Wishful to leave an opening for my choice,
Dropped the light oar his eager hand had seized.
Thanks given for that becoming courtesy,
Their place I took—and for a grateful office[861]
Pregnant with recollections of the time
485
When, on thy bosom, spacious Windermere![KT]
A Youth, I practised this delightful art;
Tossed on the waves alone, or 'mid a crew
Of joyous comrades. Soon as the reedy marge
Was cleared, I dipped, with arms accordant, oars[862]
490
Free from obstruction; and the boat advanced
Through crystal water, smoothly as a hawk,
That, disentangled from the shady boughs
Of some thick wood, her place of covert, cleaves
With correspondent wings the abyss of air.
495
—"Observe," the Vicar said, "yon rocky isle
With birch-trees fringed;[KU] my hand shall guide the helm,
While thitherward we shape[863] our course; or while
We seek that other, on the western shore;
Where the bare columns of those lofty firs,[KU]
500
Supporting gracefully a massy dome
Of sombre[864] foliage, seem to imitate
A Grecian temple rising from the Deep."

"Turn where we may," said I, "we cannot err

In this delicious region."—Cultured slopes,
505
Wild tracts of forest-ground, and scattered groves,
And mountains bare, or clothed with ancient woods,
Surrounded us; and, as we held our way
Along the level of the glassy flood,
They ceased not to surround us; change of place,
510
From kindred features diversely combined
From kindred features diversely combined,
Producing change of beauty ever new.[KV]
—Ah! that such beauty, varying in the light
Of living nature, cannot be portrayed
By words, nor by the pencil's silent skill;
515
But is the property of him alone
Who hath beheld it, noted it with care,
And in his mind recorded it with love!
Suffice it, therefore, if the rural Muse
Vouchsafe sweet influence, while her Poet speaks
520
Of trivial occupations well devised,
And unsought pleasures springing up by chance;
As if some friendly Genius had ordained
That, as the day thus far had been enriched
By acquisition of sincere delight,
525
The same should be continued to its close.

One spirit animating old and young,

A gipsy-fire we kindled on the shore
Of the fair Isle with birch-trees fringed—and there,
Merrily seated in a ring, partook
530
A choice repast—served by our young companions[865]
With rival earnestness and kindred glee.[866]
Launched from our hands the smooth stone skimmed the lake;
With shouts we raised[867] the echoes;—stiller sounds
The lovely Girl supplied—a simple song,
535
Whose low tones reached not to the distant rocks
To be repeated thence,[868] but gently sank
Into our hearts; and charmed the peaceful flood.
Rapaciously we gathered flowery spoils
From land and water; lilies of each hue—
540
Golden and white, that float upon the waves,
And court the wind; and leaves of that shy plant,
(Her flowers were shed) the lily of the vale,[KW]
That loves the ground, and from the sun withholds
Her pensive beauty; from the breeze her sweets.
545
Such product, and such pastime, did the place
And season yield; but, as we re-embarked,
Leaving, in quest of other scenes, the shore
Of that wild spot, the Solitary said
In a low voice, yet careless who might hear,
550
"The fire, that burned so brightly to our wish,
Where is it now?—Deserted on the beach—
Dying, or dead![869] Nor shall the fanning breeze
Revive its ashes. What care we for this,
Whose ends are gained? Behold an emblem here
555
Of one day's pleasure, and all mortal joys!
And, in this unpremeditated slight
Of that which is no longer needed, see
The common course of human gratitude!"

This plaintive note disturbed not the repose

560
Of the still evening. Right across the lake
Our pinnace moves; then, coasting creek and bay,
Glades we behold, and into thickets peep,
Where couch the spotted deer;[KX] or raised our eyes
To shaggy steeps on which the careless goat
565
Browsed by the side of dashing waterfalls;[KY]
And thus the bark, meandering with the shore,
Pursued her voyage, till a natural pier
Of jutting rock invited us to land.[870]

Alert to follow as the Pastor led,

570
We clomb a green hill's side;[KZ] and, as we clomb,
The Valley, opening out her bosom, gave
Fair prospect, intercepted less and less,[871]
O'er[872] the flat meadows and indented coast
Of the smooth lake,[873] in compass seen:—far off,
575
And yet conspicuous, stood the old Church-tower,[LA]
I j t idi fi ld
In majesty presiding over fields
And habitations seemingly preserved[874]
From all intrusion of the restless world[875]
By rocks impassable and mountains huge.

580
Soft heath this elevated spot supplied,
And choice of moss-clad stones, whereon we couched
Or sate reclined; admiring quietly
The general aspect of the scene; but each
Not seldom over anxious to make known[876]
585
His own discoveries; or to favourite points
Directing notice, merely from a wish
To impart a joy, imperfect while unshared.
That rapturous moment never[877] shall I forget
When these particular interests were effaced
590
From every mind!—Already had the sun,
Sinking with less than ordinary state,
Attained his western bound; but rays of light—
Now suddenly diverging from the orb
Retired behind the mountain tops or veiled
595
By the dense air—shot upwards to the crown
Of the blue firmament—aloft, and wide:
And multitudes of little floating clouds,
Through their ethereal texture pierced—ere we,
Who saw, of change were conscious—had become[878]
600
Vivid as fire; clouds separately poised,—
Innumerable multitude of forms
Scattered through half the circle of the sky;
And giving back, and shedding each on each,
With prodigal communion, the bright hues
605
Which from the unapparent fount of glory
They had imbibed, and ceased not to receive.
That which the heavens displayed, the liquid deep
Repeated; but with unity sublime!

While from the grassy mountain's open side[LB]

610
We gazed, in silence hushed, with eyes intent
On the refulgent spectacle, diffused
Through earth, sky, water, and all visible space,
The Priest in holy transport thus exclaimed:

"Eternal Spirit! universal God!

615
Power inaccessible to human thought,
Save by degrees and steps which thou hast deigned
To furnish; for this effluence of thyself,[879]
To the infirmity of mortal sense
Vouchsafed; this local transitory type
620
Of thy paternal splendours, and the pomp
Of those who fill thy courts in highest heaven,
The radiant Cherubim;—accept the thanks
Which we, thy humble Creatures, here convened,
Presume to offer; we, who—from the breast
625
Of the frail earth, permitted to behold
The faint reflections only of thy face—
Are yet exalted, and in soul adore!
Such as they are who in thy presence stand
Unsullied, incorruptible, and drink
630
Imperishable majesty streamed forth
From thy empyreal throne, the elect of earth
Shall be—divested at the appointed hour
Of all dishonour, cleansed from mortal stain.
—Accomplish, then, their number; and conclude
635
Time's weary course! Or if, by thy decree,
The consummation that will come by stealth
Be yet far distant, let thy Word prevail,
Oh! let thy Word prevail, to take away
The sting of human nature. Spread the law,
640
As it is written in thy holy book,
Throughout all lands: let every nation hear
The high behest, and every heart obey;
Both for the love of purity, and hope
Which it affords to such as do thy will
Which it affords, to such as do thy will
645
And persevere in good, that they shall rise,
To have a nearer view of thee, in heaven.
—Father of good! this prayer in bounty grant,
In mercy grant it, to thy wretched sons.
Then, nor till then, shall persecution cease,
650
And cruel wars expire. The way is marked,
The guide appointed, and the ransom paid.
Alas! the nations, who of yore received
These tidings, and in Christian temples meet
The sacred truth to acknowledge, linger still;
655
Preferring bonds and darkness to a state
Of holy freedom, by redeeming love
Proffered to all, while yet on earth detained.

"So fare the many; and the thoughtful few,

Who in the anguish of their souls bewail
660
This dire perverseness, cannot choose but ask,
Shall it endure?—Shall enmity and strife,
Falsehood and guile, be left to sow their seed;
And the kind never perish? Is the hope
Fallacious, or shall righteousness obtain
665
A peaceable dominion, wide as earth,
And ne'er to fail? Shall that blest day arrive
When they, whose choice or lot it is to dwell
In crowded cities, without fear shall live
Studious of mutual benefit; and he,
670
Whom Morn awakens, among dews and flowers[880]
Of every clime, to till the lonely field,
Be happy in himself? The law of faith
Working through love, such conquest shall it gain,
Such triumph over sin and guilt achieve?
675
Almighty Lord, thy further grace impart!
And with that help the wonder shall be seen
Fulfilled, the hope accomplished; and thy praise
Be sung with transport and unceasing joy.
 "Once," and with mild demeanour, as he spake,
680
On us the venerable Pastor turned
His beaming eye that had been raised[881] to Heaven,
"Once,[882] while the Name, Jehovah, was a sound
Within the circuit of this sea-girt isle
Unheard, the savage nations bowed the head[883]
685
To Gods delighting in remorseless deeds;
Gods which themselves had fashioned, to promote
Ill purposes, and flatter foul desires.
Then, in the bosom of yon mountain-cove,[LC]
To those inventions of corrupted man
690
Mysterious rites were solemnised; and there—
Amid impending rocks and gloomy woods—
Of those terrific Idols some received[884]
Such dismal service, that the loudest voice
Of the swoln cataracts (which now are heard
695
Soft murmuring) was too weak to overcome,
Though aided by wild winds, the groans and shrieks
Of human victims, offered up to appease
Or to propitiate. And, if living eyes
Had visionary faculties to see
700
The thing that hath been as the thing that is,
Aghast we might behold this crystal[885] Mere
Bedimmed with smoke, in wreaths voluminous,
Flung from the body of devouring fires,
To Taranis erected[LD] on the heights
705
By priestly hands, for sacrifice performed
Exultingly, in view of open day
And full assemblage of a barbarous host;
Or to Andates, female Power[LE] who gave
(For so they fancied) glorious victory.
710
—A few rude monuments of mountain-stone
Survive; all else is swept away.—How bright
Th f thi !F h h h d
The appearances of things! From such, how changed
The existing worship; and with those compared,
The worshippers how innocent and blest!
715
So wide the difference, a willing mind
Might almost think, at this affecting hour,[886]
That paradise, the lost abode of man,
Was raised again: and to a happy few,
In its original beauty, here restored.

720
"Whence but from thee, the true and only God,
And from the faith derived through Him who bled
Upon the cross, this marvellous advance
Of good from evil; as if one extreme
Were left, the other gained.—O ye, who come
725
To kneel devoutly in yon reverend Pile,[LF]
Called to such office by the peaceful sound
Of sabbath bells; and ye, who sleep in earth,
All cares forgotten, round its hallowed walls!
For you, in presence of this little band
730
Gathered together on the green hill-side,
Your Pastor is emboldened to prefer
Vocal thanksgivings to the eternal King;
Whose love, whose counsel, whose commands, have made
Your very poorest rich in peace of thought
735
And in good works; and him, who is endowed
With scantiest knowledge, master of all truth
Which the salvation of his soul requires.
Conscious of that abundant favour showered
On you, the children of my humble care,
740
And this dear land, our country, while on earth
We sojourn, have I lifted up my soul,
Joy giving voice to fervent gratitude.[887]
These barren rocks, your stern inheritance;
These fertile fields, that recompense your pains;
745
The shadowy vale, the sunny mountain-top;
Woods waving in the wind their lofty heads
Woods waving in the wind their lofty heads,
Or hushed; the roaring waters, and[888] the still—
They see the offering of my lifted hands,
They hear my lips present their sacrifice,
750
They know if I be silent, morn or even:[LG]
For, though in whispers speaking, the full heart
Will find a vent; and thought is praise to him,
Audible praise, to thee, omniscient Mind,
From whom all gifts descend, all blessings flow!"

755
This vesper-service closed, without delay,
From that exalted station to the plain
Descending, we pursued our homeward course,
In mute composure, o'er the shadowy lake,
Under[889] a faded sky. No trace remained
760
Of those celestial splendours; grey the vault—
Pure, cloudless, ether; and the star of eve
Was wanting; but inferior lights appeared
Faintly, too faint almost for sight; and some
Above the darkened hills stood boldly forth
765
In twinkling lustre, ere the boat attained
Her mooring-place; where, to the sheltering tree,
Our youthful Voyagers bound fast her prow,
With prompt yet careful hands. This done, we paced
The dewy fields; but ere the Vicar's door
770
Was reached, the Solitary checked his steps;
Then, intermingling thanks, on each bestowed
A farewell salutation; and, the like
Receiving, took the slender path that leads
To the one cottage in the lonely dell:[LH]
775
But turned not without welcome promise made[890]
That he would share the pleasures and pursuits
Of yet another summer's day,[LI] not loth
To wander with us through the fertile vales,[891]
And o'er the mountain-wastes. "Another sun,"
780
 780
Said he, "shall shine upon us, ere we part;
Another sun, and peradventure more;
If time, with free consent, be yours[892] to give,
And season favours."
To enfeebled Power,
From this communion with uninjured Minds,
785
What renovation had been brought; and what
Degree of healing to a wounded spirit,
Dejected, and habitually disposed
To seek, in degradation of the Kind,
Excuse and solace for her own defects;
790
How far those erring notions were reformed;
And whether aught, of tendency as good
And pure, from further intercourse ensued;
This—if delightful hopes, as heretofore,
Inspire the serious song, and gentle Hearts
795
Cherish, and lofty Minds approve the past—
My future labours may not leave untold.

VARIANTS:
[813] 1836.
Vicious inclinations are best kept under by giving good ones an opportunity to shew themselves—
1814.
[814] 1836.
deplored from want of due respect to this truth on the part of their superiors in society— 1814.
[815] 1836.
Genuine principles of equality— 1814.
[816] 1836.
humblest—Happy 1814.
[817] 1836.
Wanderer breaks off—Walk to the Lake—embark—Description of scenery and amusements—
1814.
[818] 1820.
 1814.
... has ...

[819] 1827.

Of her own native vigour—but for this,

1814.
That it is given her thence in age to hear

[820] 1827.

1814.
... tow'rds ...

[821] 1832.

1814.
... will ever be allowed,

[822] 1850.

1814.
... is it ...

[823] 1827.

1814.
... which ...

[824] 1845.

1814.
... upon ...

[825] 1827.

1814.
... itself, ...

[826] 1827.

1814.
... touches ...

[827] 1827.
 1814.
What more than this, that we thereby should gain

[828] 1832.

They sweep away infection from the heart;

And, by the substitution of delight,
1814.
Suppress all evil; ...

They sweep distemper from the busy day,

And make the Vessel of the big round Year
1827.
Run o'er with gladness; ...

[829] 1827.

1814.
... power

[830] 1827.

... before your sight

A most familiar object of our days,
1814.
A Little-one, ...

[831] 1827.

1814.
... my ...

[832]

MS.
Through which she ...

[833] 1827.

1814.
... Sheep ...

[834] 1827.
 Which Women who have Children of their own
Regard without compassion, yea with praise!
1814.
I spake of mischief which the wise diffuse

[835] 1827.

1814.
Within the reach ...

[836] 1845.

... and death to be

1814.
Foretasted, immortality presumed.

[837] 1814.

C.
Bountiful ...

[838] 1836.

... no special boon

For high and not for low, for proudly graced
1814.
And ...

[839] 1836.

1814.
... haughty ...

[840] 1836.

1814.
... betwixt ...

[841] 1836.

1814.
But let us rather fix our gladdened thoughts

1827.
"But let us rather turn our gladdened thoughts
[842] 1836.

1814.
... this is sure, ...

[843] 1827.

1814.
... and to inform

[844] 1836.

1814.
To drudge through weary life without the aid

[845] 1827.

This right, as sacred almost as the right

To exist and be supplied with sustenance
1814.
And means of life, the lisping Babe proclaims

[846] 1827.

1814.
... sacred ...

[847] 1814.

1836.
That ...

The text of 1845 returns to that of 1814.

[848] 1827.

1814.
... acts

[849] 1827.

To breed commotion and disquietude,

1814.
Each might preserve ...

[850] 1836.
 1814.
Amongst ...

[851] 1827.

... do alike require

That permanent provision should be made
1814.
For the whole people to be taught and trained.

[852]

... descend
Upon the humblest member of the State
C.
Like ...

[853] 1845.

1814.
With civil arts, and send their fragrance forth,

1827.
... that send ...

[854] 1827.

From Culture, universally bestowed

On Britain's noble Race in freedom born;
1814.
From Education, from that humble source,

[855] 1827.

1814.
... quiet ...

[856] 1836.

1814.
The Lake though bright, is of a placid blue;

[857] 1845.

1814.
Beneath her ...
[858] 1827.

1814.
And down the Valley on the Streamlet's bank

[859] 1832.

1814.
... I sometimes feel, ...

[860] 1845.

... so serene and bright;

Like those reflected in yon quiet Pool,
Cannot be lasting in a world like ours,
1814.
To great and small disturbances exposed."

... so serene and bright;

Like those reflected in yon quiet pool,
Cannot be lasting in a world whose pleasure
(And whose best beauty, beautiful as it is)
Seems but a fleeting sun-beam's gift, whose peace
1836.
The sufferance only of a breath of air!"

... so serene and bright

Cannot be lasting in a world like ours,
One whose best beauty, beautiful as it is,
Like that reflected in yon quiet pool
Seems but a fleeting sun-beam's gift, whose peace
1840.
The sufferance only of a breath of air!"

[861] 1836.

—When we had cautiously embarked, the Pair

Now for a prouder service were addrest;
But an inexorable law forbade,
And each resigned the oar which he had seized.
Whereat, with willing hand I undertook
1814.
The needful labour; grateful task!—to me

[862] 1836.
 ... Now the reedy marge
1814.
Cleared, with a strenuous arm I dipped the oar,

[863] 1836.

1814.
... bend ...

[864]

C.
... darksome ...

[865]

C.
... by youthful Pages served

[866] 1836.

... partook
1814.
The beverage drawn from China's fragrant herb.

[867] 1836.

1814.
... roused ...

[868] 1827.

1814.
... there, ...

[869] 1836.

... beach
1814.
It seems extinct; nor shall ...

[870] 1836.
 Thus did the Bark, meandering with the shore,
Pursue her voyage, till a point was gained
Where a projecting line of rock, that framed
1814.
A natural pier, invited us to land.

Thus did the Bark, meandering with the shore,

Pursue her voyage, till a natural pier
1827.
Of jutting rock invited us to land.

[871] 1827.

... and thence obtained,

1814.
Slowly, a less and less obstructed sight

[872] 1836.

1814.
Of ...
[873] 1827.

1814.
Of the whole lake— ...

[874] 1827.

... presiding o'er the Vale

1814.
And all her Dwellings; seemingly preserved

[875] 1845.

1814.
From the intrusion of a restless world

[876] 1827.

With resting-place of mossy stone;—and there

We sate reclined—admiring quietly
The frame and general aspect of the scene;
1814.
And each not seldom eager to make known

[877] 1836.

1814.
... ne'er ...

[878] 1836.

Pierced through their thin etherial mould, ere we,

1814.
Who saw, of change were conscious, had become

Ere we, who saw, of change were conscious, pierced

1827.
Through their ethereal texture, had become

[879] 1827.

1814.
... Image of Thyself.

[880] 1836.
 1814.
Whom morning wakes, among sweet dews and flowers

[881]

C.
... henceforward raised ...

[882] 1827.

... and unceasing joy.

1814.
Once, while the Name ...

[883] 1827.

1814.
... their heads

[884] 1827.

1814.
Of those dread Idols, some, perchance, received

[885] 1827.

1814.
... spacious ...

[886] 1836.

1814.
At this affecting hour, might almost think

[887] 1827

On your Abodes, and this beloved Land,

Our birth-place, home, and Country, while on Earth
We sojourn,—loudly do I utter thanks
1814.
With earnest joy, that will not be suppressed.

[888] 1827.
 1814.
... or ...

[889] 1836.

1814.
Beneath ...

[890] 1845.

... in the lonely dell,

His chosen residence. But, ere he turned
1814.
Aside, a welcome promise had been given,

1827.
But turned not without welcome promise given,

[891] 1845.

Of yet another summer's day, consumed

1814.
In wandering with us through the Vallies fair,

... given up
C.
To wandering ...

[892] 1814.

1827.
... is yours ...

The text of 1845 returns to that of 1814.

FOOTNOTES:
[KJ] "On the side of Loughrigg Fell, at the foot of the lake, and looking down upon it and the
whole Vale and its encompassing mountains, the Pastor is supposed by me to stand, when at
sunset he addresses his companions."—I. F.
[KK] Compare Lines composed a few miles above Tintern Abbey (vol. ii. p. 55, l. 100)—
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