Crime Thriller: The Girl Under The Sun
Today, I’m bringing you chapter one of “The Girl Under The Sun”, the newest dark crime thriller in the Logan and Scarlett serial killer series. I hope you love it!
Delaney’s eyes snapped open to a blinding sky, the sun’s glare searing her retinas. Every inch of her skin felt scorched, her lips cracked from thirst. She sucked in a breath, and the arid desert air clawed her raw throat. She tried to sit up, but pain jolted through her shoulder and chest as though knives had been driven into her flesh.
Blinking against the light, she took stock of her body. A film of red dust clung to her arms. Her clothes were torn and stained with blood. Cuts and bruises throbbed across her arms and legs. She tried to remember how she’d gotten there, but her mind was hollow. A headache pounded behind her eyes. Why couldn’t she remember?
She struggled to her feet, swaying dizzily. Ripples of heat rose off the sand and baked the soles of her feet through her sneakers. Fissures in the dirt formed pale veins of salt and stone. She turned in a circle, searching for civilization. The desert stretched in a vast, merciless expanse.
Then she saw a winding ribbon of asphalt shimmering on the horizon. A road. She forced her stiff legs to move and staggered across the cracked earth, plumes of dust rising with each dragging step.
“Help!”
Immediately, she regretted straining her voice.
As she approached the road, the scene materialized. The outline of a vehicle appeared; the white reflection made her shield her eyes. She recognized Dad’s SUV. But where was he?
Again, she tried to remember. She and Dad had left the Phoenix suburbs and driven out to see the desert. Then what?
She pressed onward, ignoring the pain. A new pang of dread tugged at her senses. Was Dad lost in the desert? The wind kicked grit into her eyes. She lowered her head, one hand raised to shield her face.
Finally, she drew close enough to confirm it was indeed her parents’ vehicle. The driver’s door hung open, keys dangling in the ignition. Fear pulsed in her veins. Then her eyes settled on a figure sprawled on the ground near the front tire. Unmoving.
Her knees buckled. She could see a shoe, the angle of an outstretched arm.
“Dad?”
Delaney recognized the shirt, the dark hair, and her lungs squeezed tight with a silent scream. She lowered herself onto her hands and knees.
No. It can’t be.
She swallowed, willing herself not to lose consciousness.
He lay with his face down, forehead pressed against the parched ground, one arm crumpled beneath his chest as if in a gesture of defense. But from whom?
Her breath hitched, and a wave of nausea rose in her throat. She knew how the desert could claim lives—heatstroke, dehydration—but this looked different. There was a bruise blooming at his temple, dark and swollen against his sunburned skin.
“Dad, say something.”
She forced herself to inch closer. Her fingers found his neck and searched for a pulse.
Nothing.
Was she even touching the right spot? She didn’t know what she was doing. Straining, she turned him over so she could see his face.
A gale ruffled his hair. She studied his chest and belly, willing them to rise and fall.
They didn’t.
A sob caught in her throat. She jerked her hand back, leaving a smear of her own blood on his shirt. She peered down the open road and into the horizon, as though an explanation would materialize.
The vehicle hadn’t crashed. There were no dents on it, and she didn’t see skid marks along the blacktop.
Someone had attacked them. That was the only explanation. Who would do this?
An image of a faceless killer looming over her father’s body blossomed in her mind.
She squeezed her eyes shut, calming herself.
Think.
Vague impressions danced at the edges of her mind—the SUV crawling to a stop on the shoulder, a horrible feeling that something was wrong, that they weren’t alone in the desert.
Gritting her teeth, she brushed the sand from her father’s hair. A single droplet of blood stained the ground beneath him. His knuckles appeared raw, as if he’d fought for his life.
Her vision blurred. She forced herself to look at him—really look. The T-shirt she recognized from that morning now bore a dark smear around the collar. No bullet holes. The bruise on his temple seemed the only wound, but it was enough. The swelling told her someone had struck him hard. She looked around and saw a jagged rock beside the car. A red smear marred the surface.
Delaney pressed a hand to her mouth, trying to swallow the panicked wail building in her throat. She glanced over her shoulder with an instinctual fear that whoever had done this might come for her next. The desert stretched in all directions, a scorched and empty stage for whatever violence had unfolded.
She returned to the SUV, the door left wide open. The keys dangled in the ignition. A thousand questions jostled for attention, but all that mattered was surviving.
Steadying herself, Delaney limped to the SUV, swaying like a newborn colt. Her pulse beat in her ears.
As the heat built, she climbed into the driver’s seat. She had only a learner’s permit, but the SUV was her lifeline.
Praying, she turned the key. The engine coughed with a grinding rattle.
“Come on. Please.”
She cranked the key again.
The SUV refused to cooperate. Her phone was gone, her pockets empty except for a crumpled receipt and a few coins. She searched the center console, the glove box, and couldn’t locate her father’s phone either. Which meant she couldn’t call for help, even if a signal existed in this wasteland. Fear clouded her thoughts, questions piling atop each other like dry kindling waiting for a spark.
A sob rose in her throat and she pounded the steering wheel with her fists. She looked at her father’s motionless body in the rearview mirror, and fresh horror gripped her. She couldn’t leave him there. But what choice did she have? If she stayed, the desert would claim her as its next victim.
Climbing out of the SUV, Delaney stood over her father. She felt guilty for even considering walking away.
“Dad, I’m sorry.”
The sole of her shoe caught on a crack. She shielded her eyes and wiped the perspiration from her brow. Turning back one last time, she saw her father’s fingers curled in a silent plea.
Tears stung her cheek. This was a betrayal. But there was no way around it.
“I’ll find help,” she told him, though she knew he couldn’t hear. His eyes would never open again.
She began walking. The world wavered before her like a fever dream.
With nothing but sorrow to guide her, Delaney put one foot in front of the other, abandoning a truth she couldn’t remember .
Start reading The Girl Under the Sun today!