Scafell Pike #3
Lu felt like the greyhound which chased the hare. Except that her quarry did not know he was being hunted. Though the man never once looked around, Lu kept a distance between them and moved from one shadowy rock to another.
Her eyes never left the back of his red anorak. She had seen what he did and would make sure that he paid dearly for it. Images flashed through her mind, a woman flapping her arms as though trying to fly.
Lu remembered how the woman had hung in the air, suspended for a moment outside time and reality, then dropped away from the mountain’s summit. She remembered the sight of her broken corpse at the bottom of the slope, blood staining grey stone a dark red.
But then it had not been more than an hour ago. They had left the clearly marked path and were moving over grassy mounds, through chilling streams and scrambling past sharp outcrops.
She had no idea where they were or in which direction they were heading, but it did not matter. The greyhound’s blood was up and she would catch her prey before night fell. For the first time in years, it felt good to be alive.
For the first in this series, click here.
Or click here for another crime short story.