CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT
Ilse's ears were beginning to hurt, and the walkie-talkie was still dead. Everything told her to turn and return to the more populated campgrounds. But wasn't that what she always did? Hide? Run away? She stared almost sightless in the dark at the trees around her. They seemed little more than one giant amalgam of shadow. What if he was out there? Her father. What if his face emerged from the night, leering at her, his eyes staring, his lips twisting in that horrible little smile of his? The way that sadist would smile before he hurt one of them. Her eyes began to droop as the exhaustion of the last few days caught up with her. Even with the fear running through her system, she couldn't shake sheer exhaustion. Still, the fear did keep her standing.
Maybe this wasn't
