It Lives Again
“Even if it hadn’t been, no one could easily have seen Frank Davis. He was running through very thick woods in the Santa Monica Mountains. With every step, he gasped tortuously for breath. He couldn’t stop now, though; he knew he had to take advantage of his lead. It wouldn’t be long before it was dawn, before the Los Angeles police had their helicopters out here, surveying these mountains. Suddenly he heard something, or thought he heard something. Yes, he had. A sound up ahead. Then a set of h...eadlights swept across the deep woods and was gone.
“A road,” whispered Frank Davis. “Of course, that’s it.” It would be easy to stop a car with a baby.
He fought his way out of the thicket of trees and stood on the macadam road listening in one direction, then the other, for the sound of an approaching car.
A moment later he heard it, the sound of a car engine farther up the hill. As the sound grew louder and louder, Davis stood in the middle of the narrow two-lane road, adjusting the blanket, making sure the infant was completely hidden from view.MoreLess
“A road,” whispered Frank Davis. “Of course, that’s it.” It would be easy to stop a car with a baby.
He fought his way out of the thicket of trees and stood on the macadam road listening in one direction, then the other, for the sound of an approaching car.
A moment later he heard it, the sound of a car engine farther up the hill. As the sound grew louder and louder, Davis stood in the middle of the narrow two-lane road, adjusting the blanket, making sure the infant was completely hidden from view.MoreLess
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