Haven Hill: Chapter 37

An Excerpt from Haven Hill, now available on Amazon

This is the final chapter that will be posted.

If you’ve been with me this far, the physical book has two more chapters that I think you’ll really enjoy.

Here’s where the story left off last time.

Kate rounded the corner of the cabin, boots sinking into damp earth. Smoke curled around her, warm against the cold fog, carrying the smell of burning cedar and scorched fabric — the smell of her haven and everything in it going up in flames.

Rage, cold and pure, propelled her.

The fire behind her roared higher, hungry now, crawling along the eaves. A window burst with a violent pop. Embers drifted around her like stars dying midair.

She clutched her Glock with both hands as she stepped into the front yard.

And there he was.

Logan was in the yard, limping but upright, shoulders hunched like a bull about to charge. The firelight flickered wildly, turning him into a living silhouette – broad, bleeding, feral.

His eyes locked onto hers with twisted joy.

And then he smiled.

As if this was a reunion.

As if this was a damned love story.

Kate raised the gun, sighting center mass.

“Don’t take another step.”

Logan tilted his head, blood running down the side of his face like war paint.

“Katie… put that thing down. You won’t shoot me.”

He took a step…

Then, suddenly, he lunged.

She fired, but missed anything vital. The shot went high and caught him in the shoulder.

It cracked the fog like lightning. Logan jerked sideways with a raw howl, his shirt blooming red—but he didn’t fall. It wasn’t a hit with stopping power.

It was like a horror movie where the monster just keeps coming, no matter what.

He just smiled.

Twisted.

Perverse.

Something like devotion warped into a grotesque shape. The stink of fuel clung to him, burning her nose.

“You actually did it,” he crowed, almost awed. “I can’t believe you shot me.”

He lunged again.

Kate took the next shot—too fast, too close—and her second round skimmed past him as he slammed into her with his full weight. They hit the front of the porch railing hard, the wood shuddering and cracking beneath the impact. She couldn’t hold onto her gun, and it flew from her hand and clattered across the porch, vanishing into smoke and rolling embers.

“Mom!” Ariel shrieked from somewhere behind the woodpile.

She didn’t have the breath to answer. The wind had been thoroughly knocked out of her. Kate thought she heard Evan say something quiet and steadying, but the world had narrowed to the man crushing the air out of her lungs.

She tried to swing.

He laughed at her feeble attempts.

She was still on her feet, pinned against the porch’s remaining railing with his forearm across her chest, pressing hard enough to steal her breath. His forehead rested against hers, a grotesque parody of intimacy.

For a heartbeat, she was back in her old apartment,

face down,

helpless,

fabric pressed into her nostrils,

breath going thin —

No.

Not again.

She was not that woman anymore. She fought like a wildcat, grabbing, clawing, scratching, striking. She would not let him take her down to the ground. She used the railings behind her to keep herself upright.

“Katie,” he hissed against her cheek, breath hot and sour, “Why do you keep fighting this?”

She snarled through clenched teeth, shoving at him. “Get the hell off me!” She went for his eyes with her thumbs, but he grabbed her hands.

He laughed— broken – breathless. “I went to prison for you, Katie. That should mean-”

Kate put a stop to his creepy declaration by driving her knee directly into his wounded thigh with every ounce of force she had.

Logan screamed, his grip faltering.

Kate twisted hard, rolling out of his hold. She scrambled backward and found herself on the front of the porch, slapped hard by smoke and heat. The air was blistering this close to the flames.

Logan staggered after her, panting, clutching his thigh, which had begun bleeding again, rage twisting his face into something barely recognizable as human.

“You wanna fight? You really think you have a chance against me?” he snarled. “Okay. Let’s fight, bitch.”

He advanced on her.

Slow.

Certain.

She’d finally convinced him she wanted nothing to do with him, and the result was icy, murderous rage.

Kate pawed blindly for her gun but couldn’t find it through the smoke.

She was coughing…she was blinded by tears from the smoke.

She needed a weapon — anything — to even the field. Even with all her training, she knew she couldn’t fight him hand-to-hand and win.

Her hand closed around something on the porch floor.  A fallen two-by-four from the shattered railing—one end jagged and sharp from breaking off, the other end charred and orange from the flames licking out the windows.

She didn’t think.

She didn’t plan.

Kate clutched the piece of wood in both hands and jabbed at his face.

Once.

He dodged.

Twice.

She made contact, and he staggered. She got closer and swung for the fences.

The burning end connected with Logan’s forearm and shoulder—a brutal, cracking thud that reverberated up her arms, numbing her hands and sending sparks scattering. She grunted from the force, but she didn’t let go.

He swore.

Kept coming.

She prepared for another vicious set of jabs.

Then the flames took root – crawled up the sleeve of his jacket.

He stared down at it, bewildered—the way a child looks at a scraped knee before the pain hits.

The fire flared upward.

Logan shrieked and stumbled back, slapping uselessly at himself, spinning and choking. The accelerant he’d used to burn her cabin fed the flames in ravenous orange bursts.

He spun, flailing, choking on smoke and panic. Screaming words she couldn’t understand. He hit the ground.

Kate froze.

She hadn’t wanted this.

She didn’t want to watch this.

“ROLL!” she screamed.

Her voice no longer sounded like her own.

“ROLL ON THE GROUND!”

He didn’t.

Whether he couldn’t hear her or simply refused to listen, she didn’t know.

He crawled toward her, reaching for her even as flames climbed his shoulder and neck.

“Katie—”

His voice broke into a tortured gurgle that ended in a scream. She would never forget how horrible it sounded as long as she lived.

Kate moved without thinking. She ripped the porch curtain down from the side that was not yet engulfed in flames and ran at him.

Her instincts were screaming at her to save even him, because she was human and he was burning alive.

It wasn’t supposed to end like this.

It wasn’t supposed to be another horrifying moment that was with her forever.

She pressed the curtain to his shoulder, shoving down hard, trying to wrap it around him. The flames only flared hotter, racing along the fabric.

“Kate—Katie—PLEASE—”

His voice was barely human now. Deep. Animalistic. Soon, the sounds that emerged had no meaning.

Somehow, he still grabbed for her and caught her wrist in an iron grip—wild, blind—and the fire jumped.

She stumbled back. She tore free, chest heaving, eyes burning from smoke and horror, ripping her jacket off before it fully ignited, barely feeling her own skin burn.

She watched in dismay as he staggered farther away, half running, half collapsing, until he crashed into burning debris spilling from the window.

Logan fell to his knees.

Screamed once.

Twice.

Fire met fire and swallowed him whole.

Then…nothing.

Kate stood trembling in her front yard, one hand pressed to her mouth, tears carving hot tracks down her soot-streaked cheeks.

It was over.

Finally over.

Footsteps crunched across the grass behind her.

“Mom?”

Ariel.

Kate turned, and Ariel ran straight into her arms, sobbing.

Kate held her tight, burying her face in her daughter’s hair. “I’m here,” she whispered. “It’s okay. You’re safe. You’re safe. It’s over.”

From behind the woodpile, Collins rasped hoarsely, “He down?”

Kate nodded, still holding Ariel. “He’s gone.”

Together, they moved back toward the injured deputy.

Far through the smoke and fog, sirens wailed—faint but growing.

Kate collapsed to her knees with Ariel, overwhelmed and shaking, the fire at their backs lighting the night like the end of the world.

Haven Hill was burning.

Logan was dead.

And in the ashes, Kate finally felt the first fragile flicker of safety she’d known in years.

About Daisy

She is the best-selling author of 5 traditionally published books, 12 self-published books, and runs a small digital publishing company with PDF guides, printables, and courses at SelfRelianceand Survival.com You can find her on Facebook, Pinterest, and X.