CHAPTER EIGHT
Emmeline screamed again and dragged herself back though the wheat, clawing the ground with her hands, kicking feebly with her feet, trying to put as much distance as she could between herself and the owner of those vivid blue-green eyes. She left a flattened trail of wheat as she backed further into the field. The trail she left would tell her pursuer exactly where to find her, but her strength finally left her, and she collapsed on the ground, uncaring. Her breath came in a rapid pant, her eyes bloomed with panic. She could think of nothing; the blind fear had stripped her of even the thought that she was going to die in this wheat field. She lay on flattened stalks of wheat, gazing up at the other stalks standing tall around her, but she was unaware of them. Her ears were
