CHAPTER EIGHTY FIVE – A NARROW ESCAPE FROM DANGER

The world seemed to tilt on its axis as she plummeted through the darkness. The wind whipped at her hair, the ground rushing up to meet her with terrifying speed. Just when she thought she was about to meet a painful end, her hands grasped a rough, uneven ledge. With a gasp, she pulled herself up onto a narrow ledge clinging precariously to the side of the church building. Her heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic drumbeat echoing the fear clawing at her throat. Below, she could see Clara scrambling to her feet, dust swirling around her. Relief washed over her, so intense it almost made her knees buckle. They were alive. But the elation was short-lived. Their escape route – the plane – would have long since departed, leaving them stranded in a hostile foreign land with no resources and Randall's goons undoubtedly hot on their trail. "We have to keep moving," Clara called up, her voice raw but determined. Scarlett nodded, her throat too dry to speak. Using the rough stone