He moved quickly, steadily on the long retreat to the house. With each step he took, he scanned the meadows, woods, hills, and horizon without spotting her. He listened for sounds signaling danger, while mentally rehearsing the stages of his escape plan, going through them repeatedly.

Eventually, the house and outbuildings came into view.

Could she have found her way to the house? Had he left his phone on the counter? Or on a table, where she could find it and summon help?

Before he could check, he had to activate the first stage of his plan.

He headed for an area about a hundred yards away, to a tangle of shrubs and trees that he was certain had never been searched thoroughly by authorities when they visited the property. He began moving large branches, then pulled away military-style, foliage-like netting, and stepped back.

Satisfied that all was in order, he went to the house.

Inside, he found his phone where he’d left it. Untouched. He took a breath. With a measure of relief, he searched for any telltale signs that she was inside. Finding none, he moved quickly to the next stage. After that was done, he gathered everything critical, everything essential, packing it into a series of small aluminum suitcases.

Then he scooped Tituba into his arms and left.

CHAPTER 57

Northeast Kingdom, Vermont

Sam hobbled up a hill, adrenaline pulsing through her veins.

Breathing hard, her sides aching, she took frantic stock in all directions for signs of life—for anyone to help her.

There was nothing. No one.

She was alone.

She saw hills, valleys, fields of tall grass, and bramble walled in by dark, dense forests—but wait.

What’s that?

Not far below, overrun with grass, the broken-down fence and leaning gate of a neglected cemetery.

There’d be a road to it—a road that would lead to help.

Buoyed by the discovery, she started down the hill in her uneven gait, pushing through her pain as she recalled her escape.

After the final rockslide that had buried her, Sam, still breathing, became enraged. Battling for her life, she fought with every weakened breath she had left. Again, she’d pressed back against the rocks that were crushing her, until, little by little, she’d freed herself.

Drawing on the memory of her mother’s strength and courage, Sam had crawled up the incline, conquering it, arriving at the top and at the wooden seal. And there, in a furious, growling frenzy, with rocks swimming under her feet, she shoved and pushed at the beams and sheets of wood. Refusing to let them stop her, she thrust her head and shoulders up, scraping through the weave. Sunlight blinded her, forcing her eyes shut. She clawed at the grass, collapsing on the earth.

Sobbing with joy, she pushed off her hood, and drank in the sweet air.

Free! Alive and free!