There were a few cars in the parking lot belonging to the night-shift personnel, but they soon fell behind as Angela trudged toward the path that led to the upper lot. Angela noticed that she was entirely alone. There were no other people; the evening shift had long since departed.
As Angela approached the path she began to feel uneasy. She was unaccustomed to being out at such an hour, and had certainly expected to see someone. Then she thought she heard something behind her. When she turned she saw nothing.
Continuing on, Angela started thinking about wild animals. She’d heard that black bears were occasionally spotted in the area. She wondered what she would do if she were suddenly confronted by a bear.
“You’re being silly,” she told herself. She pushed on. She had to get home; it was after midnight.
The lighting in the lower parking lot was more than adequate. But as Angela entered into the path leading up to the upper lot, she had to pause for a moment to allow her eyes to adjust to the darkness. There were no lights along the path, and dense evergreen trees on both sides formed a natural archway.
The barking of a dog in the distance made Angela jump. Nervously she moved deeper into the tunnel of trees, starting up a run of stairs constructed of railroad ties. She heard crackling noises in the forest and the rustling of the wind high in the pine trees. Feeling frightened, she recalled vividly the episode in the basement when David and Nikki had scared her, and the memory made her even more tense.
At the top of the stairs the path leveled and angled to the left. Up ahead Angela could see the light of the upper parking lot. There was only another fifty feet to go.
Angela had just about calmed herself when a man leaped out of the shadows. He came up on her so suddenly she didn’t have a chance to flee. He was brandishing a club over his head; his face was covered by a dark ski mask.
Staggering back, Angela tripped on an exposed root and fell. The man flung himself at her. Angela screamed and rolled to the side. She could hear the thump of the club as it sliced into the soft ground where she had been only seconds before.
Angela scrambled to her feet. The man grabbed her with a gloved hand as he began to raise his club again. Angela swung her briefcase up into the man’s crotch with all the strength she could muster. The man’s grip on her arm released as he cried out in pain.
With the route back to the hospital blocked by the wheezing man, Angela ran for the upper lot. Empowered by terror Angela ran as she’d never run before, her flying feet crunching on the asphalt. She could hear the man behind her, but she didn’t dare to look. She ran up to the Volvo with one thought in mind: the shotgun.
Dropping the briefcase to the pavement, Angela fumbled with her keys. Once she got the trunk open, she yanked the manila paper from the shotgun. Snatching up the bag of shells she hastily dumped them into the trunk. Picking up a single shell, she jammed it into the gun and pumped it into the firing chamber.
Angela whirled about, holding the gun at waist level, but no one was there. The lot was completely deserted. The man hadn’t given chase. What she heard had been the echo of her own footfalls.
“Can’t you do a little better than that?” Robertson asked. ” ‘Sorta tall.’ Is that it? That’s hardly a description. How are we supposed to find this guy if you women can’t describe him better than that?”
“It was dark,” Angela said. She was having a hard time keeping her emotions even. “And it happened so quickly. Besides, he was wearing a ski mask.”
“What the hell were you doing out there in the trees after midnight anyway? Hell, all you nurses were warned.”
“I’m not a nurse,” Angela said. “I’m a doctor.”
“Oh, boy!” Robertson said haughtily. “You think this rapist cared whether you were a nurse or a doctor?”