You Can't Hide

by Theresa Sneed

  Sure enough, her brother Jack had his legs dangling over a large boulder, and her mom sat by him, looking down over the falls. She knew it was Jack, even though he was no longer a kid. And her mom took her breath away. It was everlastingly hard not to rush to their side, but she’d wait. They’ll have to move from the falls sometime, she thought, as she hid behind a tree.

  She didn’t have to wonder what they were looking at. Her father loved rappelling, and he was no doubt, doing just that.

  Jack pointed over the falls. “No sign of him.” He glanced at his watch. “I think he did this on purpose, Mom—making us miss the execution.”

  She nodded. “Yeah, and I’m kind of glad he did. He’s probably in that cave again.”

  “Yep. It’s probably exactly where he is.” Putting his hands behind him, he leaned back on the boulder. “I really miss her, Mom.”

  “Yes. Me, too. There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t think about her.”

  Elle put her head against the rough bark of the tree, tears streaming down her face. “Ditto,” she whispered into the gentle breeze.

  Sally pulled away. “Let me at least get my bag.” She pointed to the bathroom.

  “Be quick about it,” Agent Thompson barked, resuming his conversation with Sally’s grandfather. “No, Mr. Hancock, of course, we have no idea how something like this could happen.”

  Sally slipped into the bathroom and shut the door. She leaned against the wall. Why is this happening again? Her thoughts came quick, jumbled with fear mixed with determination. Within seconds, she climbed out the window and onto the back porch. Her mom and dad were on that path and there was no way she was leaving them to the hands of that monster. If he was out there, she’d sneak up on him and—“and what then, Sally?” she asked, dismayed.

  She dashed to the shed and then tore down an axe hanging on a peg. She scrambled toward the path, but, didn’t stay on it. Nights of dreaming about trying to escape from Merrick had created scenarios in her troubled mind. This is just like in my dream, she thought. She knew better than to stay on the path, but followed it closely, out of view.

  Louise tapped her knuckles against the bathroom door. “Sally? Are you ready?” She fought the quiver in her voice. “We have to go.” She turned the knob, but finding it locked, knocked harder. “Sally?”

  Sam Sr. rushed beside her. “Sally!” He pounded on the door, and when there wasn’t an answer, he kicked it hard, popping it open. A breeze blew the curtains into the room from the opened window, and Louise screamed.

  Sam hurried down the path, the heavy phone knocking against his leg. It crackled, and then came on.

  “Sam? Sam, do you have a copy?”

  “Copy that,” he said. “I haven’t found them yet. They must have gone all the way to the falls.” He released the button.

  “Listen carefully. Merrick might be near.”

  Huh? Pressing the button, he said, “I must have heard you wrong. Come back?”

  “It wasn’t him, Sam. It wasn’t Merrick about to be executed. Nancy and Winifred Snyder both confirmed it.”

  Sam looked nervously into the thick trees that surrounded him.

  “We’ll have to maintain silence from here on out. We’re on our way.”

  Suddenly, another voice came over the air. “Sam!” He recognized his mother’s voice, before the phone went dead. Glancing around, he slipped into the trees, out of sight.

  Furious, Louise’s mouth fell open. She grabbed the dead radio and shook it. “Why didn’t you let me tell him about Sally? You know that’s where she’s going.”

  “Exactly, ma’am.” Agent Sanderson took the phone from her. “If Merrick overhears it, he’ll know Sally’s out there, too.”

  Her heart beat fast. “You’re right,” she whispered.

  Agent Sanderson pressed a button on the phone and relayed the new information to their headquarters. “How long before backup arrives?”

  “From Augusta, about two hours.” He turned to the other agent. “Stay with them. I’m going in.” Sanderson opened the door and then looked back at them. “Lock this—”A shot rang out, and Sanderson fell forward into the room. He rolled over on his side, getting out of the way of the door. He kicked it shut.

  He lay flat, knees up, blood seeping from his wound.

  “Shots have been fired!” Thompson yelled into his phone. “Sanderson’s down. Get a medic here, now.”

  Louise made her way to the cabinet under the sink, where she kept the emergency medical kit. Another shot rang through the air, and glass exploded into the room.

  “Get down!” Agent Thompson yelled. His gun drawn, he worked his way toward the door. He pulled the radio from his belt. “Suspect is hot. I repeat—suspect is hot.” He looked down at Sam Sr. “Is there another way he can get into the house?”

  “We have a cellar,” Sam said, pointing to the cellar door. He grabbed a kitchen chair and wedged it under the door knob.

  Louise crawled over to Agent Sanderson who had slumped to the floor, holding on to his arm.

  Thompson peered out from the side of the window. “Get down and stay down.” After another glance, he opened the front door, and slammed it behind him.

  Louise’s voice caught in her throat. “Let me help.” Sanderson peeled the shirt off his shoulder. Louise cut the rest away with the medical scissors.

  She peeled the shirt off the wound. “Oh, my,” she whispered. It looked like half of his arm was blown away. “We’ll have to stop the bleeding.” She applied wads of gauze on top of it and wrapped it loosely. “Sam?” She gestured for him to come near. He crawled next to her and held the gauze against Sanderson’s skin. “At least, it’s not—it should be—okay,” Louise blubbered.

  Sanderson groaned. “I’m fine, ma’am.”

  She hoped he was right, but from the looks of it, she doubted he’d be using that arm for a while. Her thoughts fell to Sally and the rest of her family outside with that maniac, and then her eyes rested on Sam’s rifle hanging over the fireplace mantel. Without thinking, she jumped up.

  Sam got up on his knees. “Get down, Louie.”

  But she ignored his plea. She wrenched the gun from its perch and then grabbed the box of cartridges by its side. Keeping the muzzle in the air, she opened the bolt, and slid the cartridges into it.

  Sanderson sat forward and reached for her. “Ma’am,” he said, wincing from pain. “I don’t think you should do that.”

  “Well, I appreciate your concern,” she said, “but no need to worry about me.” She parted the curtains with the muzzle of the gun. “Just got them back, and I’m not about to lose them again.”

  “Louie?” Sam said. “What are you doing?’

  John whipped around. What was that? Though muffled in the dense woods, it sounded a lot like gunshot. He sped down the path back toward the farm. He hadn’t gotten too far, when another shot sounded. He’s at the house. Panic gripped him, but years of training in the police force took over, keeping him focused on what might lie ahead.

  Sally looked back over her shoulder. Those were gunshots, and they were coming from the farm. She hesitated with bolting back, but then common sense took over. She’d not seen her parents yet, so that must mean that they were farther down the path—in the opposite direction of the gunshots. She stumbled out of the woods and raced down the path toward the falls.

  Heavy footsteps sounded from behind. “Oh, yay. I thought I’d never find you.” Relieved, she turned.

  A horrified shriek left her throat. She stepped backwards and then turned to flee, but Merrick was already upon her.

  He grabbed a chunk of her hair, his breath hot against her neck. “Just like flushing out a skittish rabbit.”

  “Eech,” she screeched, in a frenzied panic. Falling backwards, she hit the ground hard.

  “My, but you’ve grown, since last I saw you—daughter.”

  She spit at him. “I’m not your daughter!” She whimpered. Scooting backwards, she dragged the axe beside her q
uivering body.

  “Now, why y’gotta be so mean?” His mocking eyes fell on the axe. He sneered. “And whatcha got that for? Gonna cut down a tree, or maybe, me?”

  Her nostrils flared, and her skin flushed. She jumped up and danced around, clumsily waving the axe at him. Her fingers clenched so tight around the axe handle, her knuckles were white. “I will cut you down! I will! I will!” She screamed, breathing heavily.

  He made a face. “Really? Do you know how easily I could pluck it away from you, kid?”

  She swung it at him and it fell awkwardly through the air. “Just try it!”

  “Such defiance from one so young.” He sobered, as if deep in thought. “I was gonna kill ya.” His eyes narrowed, and a wicked grin spread across his face. “But instead, I think I’m gonna keep you.”

  Sally swung the axe through the air. It caught him off guard and sliced into his shoulder. She gasped and took a step backward, dropping the axe.

  His angry howl filled the woods, followed by a barrage of filthy words. She turned and raced into the trees, his heavy footsteps coming behind her. On she ran, darting this way and that, behind trees and large boulders. Finally, when she could hear him no more, she sank down behind the wide trunk of a large maple tree, fighting back the uncontrollable sobs lurching in her throat.

  Her heart pounded, as twigs snapped and leaves crunched beneath his heavy footsteps. He was almost upon her. Flee or fight? She was no match against his fury, but she wouldn’t go down without a fight, either.

  He circled the tree, a wicked grin plastered on his evil face. He pressed his fingers into his bloody shoulder, growled, and then snatched her off the ground like a lion would its prey. Her arms and leg flayed about, as he wrapped his fingers around her throat.

  Thirty-Four

  Deadly

  Merrick released his grip, and Sally’s listless body fell to the ground. Blood seeped through his shirt and trickled down his arm. He pressed his fingers against the wound, and then grabbing her by the legs, he pulled her deeper into the woods. He tied her body to a tree and then spat on her. His lip curled. “I’ll deal with you later.” He swung his foot back and kicked her in the gut and then went back to the path.

  A scurry of hurried footsteps farther down the path alerted John that someone was coming. He slipped behind the trunk of a large tree. Gun drawn, he waited. Within seconds, one of the FBI agents appeared.

  He stepped out of the trees. “Don’t shoot.”

  The agent lowered his gun. “You heard?” He peered past him, as if he was in a hurry.

  “The gunshots? Yes. What’s going on?”

  “My partner took it in the arm.”

  “Oh, wow—that’s too bad, man. But the others, they’re okay?”

  The agent ignored the question. “I did a quick search around the outside perimeter of the house. Whoever fired those shots, must’ve picked up the spent shells.” The agent stepped past him. “Look, I could use you back at the house.”

  They parted ways. The agent went deeper into the woods, and John raced back toward the farm. He broke through the trees, the farmhouse was straight ahead. From way down the road, he saw someone emerge from the trees. He wouldn’t have even seen the man, except he was wearing an orange hunting vest over a hooded jacket with a rifle slung across his back. The man sauntered toward a truck parked along the side of the road.

  John dashed out of the trees. He groaned. He’d never get to the truck in time, and he had no way to pursue it. In the back if his mind, he thought it was a hunter anyhow. Who’d wear a bright orange vest to commit a crime?

  He moved toward the house, keeping his gun drawn. In the shadows beside the barn, something moved. Someone was rounding the barn carrying a rifle.

  He shook his head. He pitied the man who got in Louie’s way and raised his hands in the air. Louie swung the rifle around.

  She lowered her weapon, a look of relief sweeping across her face. “Oh, John!” She waved him forward with her free arm. “It’s just John, dear.” she called over her shoulder.

  Sam Sr. came around the back of the barn, also carrying a rifle. He gave John a quick wave.

  If it hadn’t been so serious, John would’ve laughed out loud—two senior citizens ably protecting their lives and their property.

  At that moment, a car pulled into the driveway, and John turned his attention toward it. The two FBI agents inside, had already seen Louie and Sam. They scrambled out of the car and placed themselves in a protective stance behind the vehicle.

  That was enough for Louie to drop the rifle and raise her hands, too. Sam follow her lead.

  John waved the agents down, flashing his badge. “I’m Sheriff Higgins.” He approached them cautiously. “You’ll want to pursue a white truck heading east. Could be just a hunter, but I saw him coming out of the woods farther down the road. He was wearing a hooded jacket, orange vest, and had a rifle slung over his back.”

  They lowered their guns and got back into the car. “And Agent Sanderson?”

  Louie nodded toward the house. “He’s okay. I called for an ambulance. It should be here shortly.”

  Their tires squealed, as they tore out onto the road. Louise approached John, rifle to her side. Her voice trembled. “You can’t stay here. Go after Sally.”

  Sam Sr. came up beside them. “Ay-yuh, John, we’ve got it covered here.”

  “Go back inside, please,” John pleaded. Sam and Louie’s expressions of sheer determination were identical. “Perfectly matched,” John muttered, turning toward the path.

  He looked back and saw them go inside the barn. He didn’t have to wonder why. The barn had the best lookout from its fourth-floor hayloft. When Sam Jr and he were younger, they’d spent many a time up there. They could see pretty far down the road this time of year before the leaves fully opened and blocked their view.

  John sprinted down the path, his mind racing. Something troubled him, but what was it? It hit him. Merrick was a big man, and the man getting into the truck, was not. Maybe that was a hunter after all, he thought. “But if that wasn’t a hunter, then Merrick’s got help,” he whispered. He was doubly careful, as he stealthily made his way down the path.

  Elle watched from behind the tree. C’mon guys, just step away from the falls, so I can show myself. Jack, and Elle’s mother, Lucy, were too close to edge of the steep drop to the jagged rocks below. So, she stayed still, watching her family. She couldn’t wait to reveal herself to them, to finally be a whole family again.

  Her mind drifted back to the lethal injection. She sighed. She was a little disappointed that she didn’t get to witness the execution of that horrid man, but nonetheless, she was glad it was over.

  Jack squirmed. “We might as well join Dad in the cave. But, uh, not now—in a minute.” He jumped up. “I’ll be right back, Mom.” He pointed to the trees. “Bathroom.”

  She waved him on and then attached her harness to the rope. “I’ll meet you down there.” She swung her legs over the edge of the cliff and then lowered herself down.

  Jack moved closer to Elle. This was her chance. But she couldn’t have him screaming—that might upset her mother’s delicate balance at the edge of the steep precipice. She decided to step back far enough to give him his privacy first. When the time was right, she’d reveal herself.

  Jack turned and then walked back toward the falls. If he were to turn in her direction, he’d see her. “Jack.” She barely got his name out, when fingers wrapped around her mouth, and a strong arm pulled her down.

  “It’s me,” Sam whispered into her ear, uncovering her mouth.

  “Why’d you do that?” she grumbled, pulling away.

  He held his finger to his lips. “Shh!”

  The panic in his eyes shot through her. She grabbed his arm, expecting the worst.

  Sam glanced Jack’s way, and she did, too. From the frightened look on Jack’s face, it was apparent he’d heard her. As he hurried toward the falls, he kept looking back.

  �
��Sam?” she whispered, as he led her away from her brother. “Sam, what’s wrong?”

  He drew her to him, holding her tight. Pressing his mouth to her ear, he whispered. “He escaped.”

  She didn’t hear him right. Merrick was on death row. No one escaped from death row. The words came out in a terrified shriek. “That’s impossible!”

  “Shh!”

  “No. He’s on death row.”

  He shook his head. “Nancy and Winnie both confirmed it, Elle.”

  “What? Impossible.”

  He waved her down. “You’re too loud. Shh.”

  “But, I don’t understand.” Her voice came out in a whimper.

  He cupped her face in his hands. “Me neither, but no matter what, we’ve got to keep our wits about us—for Sally.”

  She drew in a quick breath. “Sally?”

  He studied her eyes. “She’s safe at the farm.”

  She nodded, and then pressed her fingers into her churning stomach. Sam was right. This was about Sally. Straightening, her words came out quieter, but still stressed. “He’s probably not even here, right?”

  “More likely than not, he’s hidden himself away for good, but we have to take precautions.”

  His words made sense. Merrick probably wasn’t anywhere near Maine, but just in case, it was smart to be careful. “Well then, let’s get to my parents and then get out of here.” She meant Maine, and from the look of sadness on Sam’s face, he agreed with her.

  “Yep.” He pointed toward the falls, where they had seen Jack.

  “Jack is bigger, huh?”

  It was evident that Sam suppressed a chuckle. “Yes, he would be after all these years.”

  “I know,” she said softly. “I guess memories of people sort of freeze in time from when we last saw them.”

  “Yep.” He took her hand and pulled her forward. “It’s equally surprising for them, too.”