A Warrior's Mission. Rita Herron

there, buddy. We’re going to get Sky.”

      The sight of the cabin evoked bittersweet memories of happier times, but also offered hope that the torture of the past few months would soon end. She scanned the exterior for signs of life, of an intruder, even a horse or snowmobile to indicate she had company, but saw nothing. Thankfully, she’d arrived before the kidnapper. She’d have time to prepare.

      Still, she approached the cabin slowly, easing up on the reins to gather her courage as well as to keep an eye on the doors and windows. Bringing the paint to a halt, she set him loose in the corral to the side of the cabin and made sure he had water. She’d wait until she checked out the cabin before she unsaddled him and put him in the barn. She might have to escape in a hurry.

      Her boots crunched on the icy gravel as she walked toward the cabin. Unease clawed at her as she unlocked the door then it opened. She searched the dark interior but saw nothing. The whir of the helicopter drifted nearer, and she glanced over her shoulder just as it circled the clearing. She paused to see if it was going to land, but a shadow moved in the corner of the room. Heart pounding, she reached inside her purse for the pistol, but someone grabbed her from behind and shoved a rag over her mouth and nose. She bucked backward, struggling to breathe, digging her hands into the man’s arms. She tried to scream, but tasted something strange, and inhaled a pungent odor. Some kind of chemical. Gas? Chloroform?

      Desperate, she clawed at his hands, then jabbed her elbow backward to connect with the man’s stomach. He grunted, then jerked her harder against him, pinning her in a viselike grip. She tried to scream again, but sucked in gas. Darkness spun into a kaleidoscope of colors. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she fell into the nothingness. She wished she could have held her baby one more time before she died.