Despite her heart already beating out her chest, her pulse seems to quicken even more while she remembers there are hunting cabins in the vicinity. Ever since she can remember, every fall local game hunters retreat to the high mountains and use the cabins for elk season. Her hope is that she will find just such a cabin and be able to take refuge.
Little does she know that not far behind, her captor is in hot pursuit and has gained help.
Chapter Twelve
While cautiously trekking through the woods, “There, up ahead near the clearing.” The man with the green and black camouflage jacket says to the man with the mask.
Shifting the shotgun to his other arm by the strap he looks over his shoulder shining his flashlight on the man’s covered face.
Letting out a growl, the tracking dog froths at the mouth as his prey is in sight.
“Now?” The masked man asks with excited anticipation lacing his voice.
“Hang on, we have to do this right, I don’t want Hercules to tear her arm off. No harm can come of her, yet. Understand?”
He doesn’t answer.
“Arnie?” He insists.
“What?”
“You will wait until my signal.”
“What if you wait too long and she gets away?” He whines like a toddler.
“Do as I say Arnie if you knew what was good for you there would be no further questions. That damned Frankie sure didn’t know how to shut up and look at what that got him.” He says in a stern but ominous voice.
“I gotcha boss, I wanna keep my finger!” He grumbles and reluctantly waits for his boss’s instructions.
“Stay I have an idea. Follow me at a distance and keep that dog quiet!” He hisses.
Hurrying in the dark, his flashlight showing the way to the woman cowering in the opening by a moss-covered log that used to be a proud and erect tree.
“Hello?” He shouts ahead. “Are you lost?”
She doesn’t respond.
“You there, can I help you?”
Her head whips up as she realizes that the disembodied voice she hears belongs to an actual person and not her imagination.
She stands up but is too weak. “Yes. I need help.” She whimpers.
As the distance between them closes, she notices right away that much to her relief that the person is not her captor but an older man. Unable to make out his face or recognize his voice, she still senses a familiarity.
The crunching under his heavy footsteps stops on the other side of the log. The flashlight is causing her to see shadows which her weary eyes cannot rely on as it makes it appear that they are surrounded but in fact only one man serves as her Calvary.
Having made his way around the tree, he places the light in his breast pocket then once again adjusting the shotgun strap across his chest, he leans down and scoops her up in his arms.
With Arnie and Hercules following behind at a safe distance, he carries the nearly unconscious young woman to his cabin.
∞∞∞
13 days later…
As the last of the news crews make their way down the long drive that turns out to the highway, the headline being read on the blaring television in the background says:
With no ransom demands, few clues and no suspects, they have stalled recovery efforts for kidnapped starlet Ellen Jackson who went missing Christmas Eve.
“Looks like they are all gone.” Kathy says quietly while placing her hand on Tim’s shoulder.
“Good. Now we can have peace.” He grunts.
As she turns away from the window she says, “No peace Tim. There will be no peace until they return her.” She chokes. “I keep asking why? If not for money, then why?”
With tears streaming down her face, her body shudders.
Grabbing her into his arms, they embrace one another as the tears flow with an abandon he whispers in response, “I don’t know. I just don’t know.”
After some time of allowing their grief to overcome them, Tim pulls away. He holds Kathy’s tear-stained face in his gaze, “I don’t know that I would get through this without you. The last time I had a tremendous tragedy, with my family so far away, I had to do it all on my own. But I had her. My Ellie.” His voice fades as his hands drop by his sides and his body collapses into a chair sitting at the rustic wood table.
All has fallen silent but for the murmurings of the news report still coming from the television in the sitting room. Tim laments about how there will be no more news crews clamoring for a morsel of information to report. Which also means there will be no more men in black with dark sunglasses and matching grimaces on their faces because now, there is little hope left that she will return.
“We are back in the newsroom this Monday morning with updates on the Ellen Jackson abduction.” The female reports authoritatively, “Officials have issued a written statement, she reads: Due to adverse weather conditions and lack of evidence, rescue efforts have been suspended. Recovery efforts will begin early spring or as soon as search conditions have improved.”
As Tim’s long legs move briskly to the sitting room just before he reaches the remote to turn off the television, the offending reporter gets in the last word, “It should be noted that twenty-three years ago Melody Jackson, Ellen Jackson’s mother also went missing without a trace. While they performed recovery efforts, they never located her body, it remained as a cold case until new evidence recently surfaced. Has Ellen Jackson suffered the same fate? Be sure to check back for the special report that will give a more in depth look at the secrets that the inhabitants of Thunder Valley hold.”
Switching off the television Tim stands in the middle of the sitting room, contemplating the reporter’s words. In a fit of rage, he throws the remote against the wall, causing the batteries and cover to scatter across the floor from the impact. He leans over the coffee table and in one motion angrily swiping his arm across the top, all the objects in his path go flying in random patterns around the room. Collapsing to the floor, he releases a heart-wrenching sob that seems to rise from the inner depths of his soul.
Kathy comes running just as he crumples to the floor in a shattered heap. Sobs emulate from his body like a wounded animal. Throwing caution out the door, she wraps herself around her husband swathing him in reassurance and empathy.
Hours later after Kathy got Tim to lie down for a nap, he reappears looking far too pale and weak.
Alarmed she leaves her station at the stove and rushes to her husband’s side. “Tim! You look terrible… I think I need take you to the hospital!”
“Nonsense. I’ll be fine. I’m just exhausted is all.” He scoffs.
Shaking her head rapidly, “No. A man with your heart condition cannot withstand the kind of stress you have been under. Get your shoes and coat, we will have you checked out.” She turns off the stove and oven and says, “Dinner can wait.”
Tim raises his hand while she blurts, “I will not take no for an answer. Now get ready.”
He protests again but gives up because he knows that he won’t convince her otherwise. With great hesitation, he prepares himself for the drive into town.
Navigating the icy roads, the old pickup truck hugs the curves like a rhino on a balance beam. It’s so clunky that Kathy is driving with her teeth clenched and knuckles white on the steering wheel. As she is maneuvering around a snow embankment, the wheels spin out just as she tries to straighten the wheel after the turn. Struggling to gain control of the sliding vehicle, Tim grabs it and with a sharp jerk, he causes the rig to lurch over the line into the oncoming lane.
“Tim!!” She shouts as she shoves his hand away and takes back control of the wheel. While straightening the wheels, she slows the vehicle, bringing it to a stop, then she whips her head to stare him squarely in the eyes.
“What the heck was that? If someone had been coming our direction that would have caused a head-on collision! Are you mad?” She shrieks.
“I’m sorry. I was only trying to help you.” He responds lamely.
Taking a deep breath, she tries to channel what little patience she has left, “Never do something like that again. That might have killed us both! Thus, making this exercise of driving you to the hospital to have your heart checked a moot point, wouldn’t you agree?” She chastises.
He agrees. “I won’t do that again.”
She grunts then pulling back onto the road, she releases a deep sigh. “This nightmare just keeps getting worse. When will this be over Tim? I don’t know how much more we can take.”
Shrugging, he doesn’t answer, instead he stares out the window at the blurred winter landscape as the truck careens down the icy road. Everything is little more than a series of shadows with night approaching. Tim wonders if Ellie is somewhere safe and sound. Or if something horrific has befallen her.
Chapter Thirteen
Finally, having her energy back, she is in a fighting form. The only thing is that her opponent had the unfair advantage of being prepared for the fight, one which has rules she would never have dreamed. "Help! Help! Is someone there? Her voice hoarse from yelling for the better part of the day.
Walking over to shuttered windows, she wishes that she could see just a glimpse of the outdoors. By her estimation, it has been weeks since she has been outside. Not knowing how long they have held her captive, her hope of escaping has waned. The helicopters overhead have ceased, and her captors have been careful to keep her concealed and contained.
The shock that Gus Halverson is the mastermind behind everything has shaken her to the core.
Angry and desperate to break free, she pounds on the windows again. Knowing full well the only thing that will happen is her hand will hurt for the rest of the day. Not caring about the pain, she pounds on what she found out to be a plexiglass, rather unbreakable. On the other side of the window are shutters so even if she could break through the impenetrable glass, she would still have hurricane strength shutters to contend with.
Her captor was kind enough to leave a small peephole in the knotted wood shutters. At certain times of the day when the lighting is just right, she can see outside which is more like torture than any kind of consolation. But that is her only glimpse into the real world because the world she is living inside is like being in a time capsule.
Waking up in this room that time has forgotten, was nothing short of horrifying. Gus kept the attic bedroom just as Debbie Halverson left it ten years ago. Her image in frames screwed to the walls like they do in cheap hotel rooms. The glass is missing from each frame and there is not a single mirror. Not one sharp object or anything else that can reasonably be fashioned into a weapon.
Stuffed animals from Debbie’s childhood are in every crevice. Standing proudly in the middle of the room is a doll house that was lovingly constructed, complete with wall paper and hand-crafted furniture in the life like rooms. It is obvious that that the house was painstakingly assembled for someone who was adored.
Sitting on the bed staring at the doll house, Ellen is so angered, she screams again but out of respect for Debbie’s memory, Ellen has refrains from destroying the shrine. This time when she screams it’s not at the top of her lungs but from the depths of her core.
“Get me out of here!! Get me out of here! Get me out of here!” She shrieks.
Though her voice is growing hoarse, she continues to yell. When her voice gives out, she jumps up from her place on the white brass bed to the door and pounds with her fists. Ignoring the pain in her arm that is still wearing the pink cast, now dingy from her trek through the wilderness.
“Help! Help!” She shouts again.
“Knock it off!” Yells the familiar voice of the masked guy from the other side of the door. “Yeh know that aint gonna help. Now go calm yourself down.” He says in a patronizing voice.
“No. Get me Gus. I need to speak with him.”
His laugh is sickening.
“Now why would I go and do that? He doesn’t wanna see yeh. He got better things to do.”
“What the hell is the plan? You can’t just keep me here indefinitely.” She says fighting back suppressed tears.
“Oh, can’t we?”
“No, you can’t. They will come looking for me again.”
“Yeah and whatcha think they gonna find?” He says in a menacing voice.
Her entire body feels weak as his words sink in, they don’t plan to let her return.
“Now you be a good girl and shut up, so I can get my nap.”
Her anger reignited, she resumes pounding her fists against the door this time with more vigor. Stomping her feet in unison she chants, “Let me out… let me out… let me out….”
“Stop it! Stop it!” He shouts.
She continues.
“You better STOP!” He shouts even louder than the last time.
Stepping back, she braces herself by anchoring her left foot against the door jamb and hanging on to the door knob for balance she takes her right foot and kicks the door with her heel. Despite the pain, she continues the loud assault of the solid core door.
“Now you did it!” He yells while slamming his fist against the door. “Owww!” He shouts then the pounding stops.
Changing feet, she increases the battering by adding the fist of her free hand.
He yells, “Fine, I’ll get Halverson over here and he can deal with you, maybe once and for all.”
“You do that!” She yells while continuing to stomp on the floor.
As she sees the shadows cast from his feet and legs under the door retreat, she lessens her assault. Once she can tell that he has gone back downstairs, she retreats to the bed to nurse her swollen and bruised hands and feet. The dim light filtering into the room through the shutters is receding and night is about to fall, she hopes her efforts reap a reward.
Lying in her bed for hours the night has come. The few shadows allowed to enter through the mere slats on the windows travel across the ceiling. She pretends she is at the ocean lying on her back in the sand counting stars. He body stiffens as she hears footsteps approach the door… she holds her breath.
The door flies open and a large figure blocks the light flowing in from the hall.
Sitting up straight in her bed, she knows instantly that it’s her captor, Gus Halverson.
“I hear you been causing trouble. What’s all the ruckus about?” He asks in a gruff voice.
“Mr. Halverson… Gus… you owe me an explanation.” She pleas.
Without saying a word, he turns to the hallway—her hopes instantly dashed but then just moments later she hears dragging and scuffing sounds. Much to her surprise, his figure fills the doorway again with a large object that her eyes are having a hard time deciphering. Plunking the object down just inside the door she soon realizes it is only a bentwood chair. She notes how it creaks under the strain of his weight.
“I suppose you think me a monster for bringing you here?”
She clears her throat pretending to have a tickle, stalling so she may plan her answer. “Well the thought had occurred to me.” She answers quietly.
“I had hoped that you might have come to your own conclusion.” He crosses his arms over his chest.”
She blurts, “You need money for something? Tell me what you want, and I will gladly pay you for my freedom.”
He chuckles in such a gruesome way that her hair on her arms is standing on end under the warm fleece lined sweatshirt she is wearing. One that is not her own.
“You think this is about money?”
Quietly she nods.
His lips curl up on one corner as he snarls at her. “Well of course you would think this was about a ransom, people like you never take responsibility for their actions.”
Feeling exasperated she leaps to her feet, “What do you mean?” She pauses then slowly sits back down as she notices his arms are no longer crossed over his chest. He is now holding something in his hands that is making a swooshing sound.
Just as she is sitting back on the bed he says, “Best keep yours
elf sitting down little lady.” He warns while the swooshing sound continues.
“You want to know why you are here?”
Feeling like he is dragging this out she is feeling frustrated and weary from this dead-end conversation. “Yes! Please tell me!” She insists.
“I want you to take responsibility for Debbie’s death. It’s time you pay for your sins.”
“What? Are you kidding me?” She breathes, “She took her own life! Why would I have had anything to do with that?”
Suddenly he is standing over her with his hands placed on hips. Slowly shaking his head, he replies in a sinister vice, “I wish I were kidding, but I’m not. If she weren’t always living in your shadow, she would have been happy, and still be with me—alive! My dear wife Elaine might still be with me too.”
“That’s the most absurd thing I’ve heard. How can you stand there and accuse me?” Her body quivers, “I am sincerely sorry for your loss but that was ten years ago, and I had nothing to do with her unfortunate decision to end things.” She pleads while carefully choosing her words.
“You little bitch! Even now, you can’t see the part you played.” He hisses.
“You are delusional. Exactly what part do you think I played?”
He groans then turns back to his chair which is once again creaking as he sits.
“It saddens me that you don’t have a clue. For starters, you stole her boyfriend.” He says in an affected drawl.
Taken aback, she ignores his dramatics and responds, “I never stole hers or anyone else’s boyfriend!”
“Oh no? Then what about going to junior prom with Benjamin Lynch?”
She gasps, “You kidnapped me because of Benjamin? Come on! Ben and I had been friends since we were in diapers before you ever moved to the valley. You are right though, we went to the junior prom together, but that wasn‘t until after your daughter dumped him just days before.”
Shaking his head rapidly, “No-no. You swiped him right out from under her which was on the heels of sleeping with the drama teacher to get the lead in the school play. My wife couldn’t handle all the grief. Even though I just buried Elaine, she died the night that my Debbie took her life and it’s all because of you!”
Secrets of Thunder Valley- The Locket Page 12