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Be Not Afraid-BK1 of Samantha Cain Mysteries

By Deborah Lynne

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A scream pierced the darkness outside the office. Samantha Cain's head popped up as she glared out the big window. She froze. Her heart pounded as an icy chill slid slowly down her back.
"What was that?" she whispered to herself as she slowly rose to her feet.
Fearfully, her eyes searched the night through a large picture window in a futile attempt to find the source of the scream. A black void filled her view as the moon hid behind a large cloud.
Standing still, Sam listened for another scream. Almost perfect silence flooded the room. Neither the hum of an occasional tugboat chugging down the Mississippi River nor the steady rhythm of a train crossing over the bridge on elevated tracks was heard. Only country music played softly in the background, barely audible over the pounding of her heart.
Was it a scream or was it her imagination? It could have been a squeal from tires. Kids raced along the River Road all the time. A cat could have called out in the night. Possibilities flashed through her mind.
It could have been anything. Why am I reacting this way? I've worked nights too long to start jumping at every sound....
Fear comes from the devil. Peace comes from God. That wasn't a straight quote from Isaiah but Sam got the message her mind had just sent her. She took a deep breath, a cleansing breath to calm her nerves and slowly released it.
A moment later the scream replayed in her mind.
She shivered. That was what unsettled her nerves. It wasn't tires squealing or a cat screeching. It sounded like a human scream--a woman's scream.
With unsteady hands, Sam reached for the knob on the radio and turned it off. Straining, she listened again. Nothing. Silence.
Her fingertips iced over, and goose bumps lined her arms. The bitter taste of fear settled unnaturally in her mouth.
"This is silly," she scolded herself. Sucking in a gush of air, then quickly blowing it out again, hard and fast this time, she tried to shake off the feeling of alarm.
Fear not. I am with you. Words of peace crossed her mind as her heartbeat settled to a steady thump.
Maybe I just imagined the scream. To further convince herself of her strong imagination, she unlocked the double locks on the wooden door to her office. Standing in the entryway to the glassed-in lobby area, she saw first her own reflection: a woman barely over five feet tall, with long brown hair cascading down over her shoulders. Her bangs almost covered her green eyes as she leaned toward the glass door and cupped her hands around her eyes. She peered through the glass door leading outside. With the fluorescent lighting on inside, she could see only vague, indistinguishable shadows through the glass.
Pushing the front door open, she stepped out into the night air and listened again.
Still nothing.
Sam's eyes adjusted to the darkness. The one streetlight, near the gate's entrance to Liquid Bulk Transport, exposed an empty highway.
The clouds shifted slowly, unveiling the moon one slice at a time. Patches of grass-covered ground became apparent beyond the road where the levee rose to contain the flow of the mighty Mississippi. Tracing the moonlit summit of the levee in both directions, Sam saw nothing out of the ordinary.
Confident now she'd imagined the scream, she relaxed, unclenching her fists. A slight breeze stirred strands of her hair, blowing them softly across her face as she turned back toward the building. Grabbing the door handle, she was about to pull it open when she heard a rustling.
Sam stopped and turned in her tracks. What was that? Was it the wind? Was it something...or someone?
She perked her head, twisiting toward the highway as she strained to listen. Then she heard it again...a scuffling. A couple of dogs, maybe? She wasn't sure what, or possibly who, but she knew she heard something. Sam jerked her body around in the direction of the levee. Staring hard, she tried again to find the source. Her eyes squinted, slowly tracing along the levee for something--anything--making that sound.
The noise stopped again. With her left ear cocked toward the levee, Sam stilled, straining to hear the sound again. Nothing.
If only it were distinct, she could find it. Identify it. Maybe then, she could prove to herself it was nothing to worry about. Possibly even discover it was two dogs fighting over a bone. And, who knows, maybe a cat tried to interfere.
There it was again!
Running back into the building through the glass door and past the wooden door leading back into the office, she punched 9-1-1 on the telephone. As it started to ring, she glanced out of the window and back at the door to the office. Oh no! She forgot to shut and lock the door behind her. Her stomach knotted as panic choked her. Her chest tightened.
There isn't time for fear, she told herself just as she heard, "This is 9-1-1 emergency. What is your emergency?"
In a rush, she said, "This is Samantha Cain at Liquid Bulk Transport on River Road. I heard a scream and saw two people fighting on the levee. By the sizes and shapes of the shadows, it looked like a man attacking a woman. Can you get help her quick?"
"Stay calm ma'am. I'll dispatch help right away. All cars in the vicinity...."
Sam listened while the operator broadcast the situation and location to the deputies on duty. What if help doesn't get here in time? she wondered. How can I stand here holding a phone while someone is being attacked? Can I let her be a victim too?
"I've been trained," she reminded herself aloud, thinking of all the self-defense and emergency courses she'd taken over the past year. She slammed the phone down on the countertop. "I can't just sit here. No way. I've got to try and help her." Greater is He that is in you, than he that is in the world.
With that Scripture in mind, Sam grabbed her purse and pulled out a small black container of mace. Help me, Lord, she prayed. I can't stand by and let him hurt her. I need to slow the man down, distract him, or something, until help arrives. Please help me to make smart moves...."
Now she knew exactly what she was going to do, and she knew she wasn't alone.
Racing out the doors, across the graveled parking lot of the trucking company toward the levee, she didn't give herself time to worry about the consequences. She hastened toward the fight, holding the device tightly in her grasp, ready to spray the attacker when she reached him. If nothing else, it should buy time.
As Sam rushed closer, she noticed that woman's hands hanging limply at her side. It appeared all of the fight had gone out of her. Sam prayed she wasn't too late.
Hold on, her thoughts whispered. Aloud, she screamed, "Leave her alone! Let her go!" Sam closed some distance between them as she started across the highway toward the levee.
The man's head snapped up, and he peered in her direction. Even from this far away, Sam saw his eyes. They blazed with a sick, detached, almost possessed look. His hands stayed locked around the woman's neck, appearing to squeeze even tighter if that were possible. Sam knew she had to be crazy to continue toward this crazed man, but she couldn't stop now. She had to do all she could do. It took all the courage she could muster to keep moving forward and not run back to safety.
As she started up the levee, less than fifty feet away, Sam shouted again, "I said, leave her alone!"
The attacker's eyes widened as he slowly turned toward Sam, twisting the limp body still in his grasp in the same direction. The woman wasn't fighting back anymore; nor was she standing on her feet. He was holding her airborne, by her neck.
Sam's steps slowed slightly as her grip tightened on the mace.
Suddenly the attacker released his hold, and the victim crumpled to the ground like a fallen leaf. His gaze locked on Sam, and he took one step toward her.
Sam's heart skipped a beat. I'm next. He's going to come after me now. Am I strong enough to hold him off till help gets here? Her heart began to pound even harder.
Then she heard that still, small voice in her head: I can do all things through Christ which strengthens me.
There was no turning back. She gripped the can tighter and her fingertip felt for the button ready to spray him, to stun him...to bring him to his knees.

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