Lone Survivor (Book 1): All That Remains

by Hunt, Jack

  Blasting away from the cabin, fear drove her on as her legs pounded the earth beneath her. She had a small advantage, the element of surprise, and she intended to capitalize on it. Darkness and dense woodland were her friends as she circled around the group.

  She could hear them arguing about what to do.

  Two of them wanted to head into the cabin, the other was against it.

  “We have no idea what we’re going into.”

  “I don’t give a fuck. That bitch put an arrow in me.”

  “Morgan, calm down. I need to think.”

  “Why don’t we just set the cabin on fire?”

  “Tommy. Are you an idiot? My gear is in that cabin.”

  “Cayden, look. She’s just a girl.”

  “And her old man was just a guy but he got in the way.”

  Beth stopped moving, shock setting in. Was that an admission to her father’s death?

  “Yeah, what was the deal with that? The lights were out. It’s not like the cops were gonna do anything.”

  “It only takes one fly in the ointment to screw it up. He was a liability. A man like that doesn’t walk away and say nothing.”

  As Beth listened, she couldn’t believe her ears. What had her father got involved in? And why had he hidden it from her? She was beginning to think she never really knew her parents. Anger turned to fury and she brought up her arrow and scrambled forward preparing to unleash hell.

  28

  Quit. It wasn’t in Sara’s vocabulary. If her mother had taught her anything, it was cry if you must — wallow in self-pity for a moment — but eventually pick yourself up, brush yourself off and press on. And yet in that moment all she wanted to do was lay there and die.

  Minutes earlier she’d reached the bottom of the stairs only to find the rifle gone.

  Hearing the woman chasing her, she’d darted into the kitchen hoping to make it out the door only to be cut off by the second attacker. She’d hurled a plant on the table at him before sprinting back to the living room only to find the handles on the patio doors had been locked.

  With no time to waste she tossed a chair at the window, figuring she could crawl out. That escape attempt had failed miserably. No sooner had she begun to climb out than she was yanked back in by her hair. She slid across the hardwood and slammed into the wall. The woman switched hands on the hammer and shoved a small table out of the way as she charged over ready to unleash one hell of a beating.

  As she brought the hammer down, Sara lunged forward and drove the blade into the woman’s rib cage thinking it would stop her but it didn’t, it only made her lash out with more intensity, cracking her in the side of the face with the hammer.

  Sara blacked out.

  It was hard to know how long she was unconscious but it couldn’t have been long as when she awoke the woman was lying on the ground nearby, coughing and staring at her; gripping the knife that was still deep in her rib cage.

  Seconds elapsed. From across the room she heard a thunderous pounding of boots as someone hurried over then stopped abruptly. A groan of anguish. With blood dripping down her forehead blurring her vision, Sara peered through pain at the attacker. He pushed back his hood and dropped to a crouch beside the woman, cupping a hand around her face. Sara heard him telling her to hang in there, then he flashed her an angry sideways glance. Shit.

  He gritted his teeth and came at her, all spit and fury with the knife raised.

  This was it.

  This was where it would end.

  There was no more fight left in her. She wasn’t a quitter but she couldn’t lie to herself either. She attempted to get up but her vision went sideways until the man was nothing more than a red blur.

  She squeezed her eyes tight waiting for the inevitable and the piercing pain of a knife but it never came. A sudden metallic thud, then another and another followed. Opening her eyes, she saw the man was lying face down with Max hunched on top of him, beating him in the head with his baseball bat.

  “Max. Stop,” she said but he either didn’t hear her or was gripped by so much fear that he couldn’t even if he wanted to. She clawed at the hardwood floor trying to make her way over and that was when he saw her. His hands were shaking. Max dropped the bat and fell to his knees.

  “Mom,” he said staring at his bloody hands.

  “It’s okay. I’m here.”

  She reached him and wrapped an arm around his waist and he wiped blood from her forehead. “The other?” she asked.

  “Dead.”

  Sara looked over at the woman. She was no longer breathing.

  They remained there for another five minutes before they got up and Max helped her out of the house down to Hank’s truck. The keys were still in the ignition and the engine idling. “I’ll drive,” Max said.

  Fifteen minutes later they arrived outside Jake’s home on the east side of town. Max helped his mother out of the vehicle, his arm gripped her waist while her arm hung loosely over his shoulder. He carried her up to the front door, calling out to Jake, but his voice was lost in the howling wind. She kept going in and out of consciousness on the way over. “Mom. We’re here.” She mumbled something as he banged hard on the door. A few minutes then the door cracked wide.

  “Max? Sara!” Jake rushed out and helped her into the house.

  Max turned and looked out before closing the door. A trail of blood in the glistening snow marked the path they’d taken, and foretold the challenges to come.

  29

  Under the cover of woods, Beth watched the four men fan out around the cabin. Using her rifle made sense but it also would give away her location and with the odds stacked against her, remaining out of sight was all she had working for her.

  That and her knowledge of the terrain.

  Taking out four adults had less to do with age or skill and more to do with opportunity. It was all about timing. She was comfortable in her environment, they weren’t. She removed the bow and laid it down in the underbrush while she slung the rifle strap over her head and scooped it behind her back.

  The plan was to take them out one by one.

  If she could do that silently, even better.

  Next, she climbed up into a big oak tree, straddled a large branch and focused her attention on the Chinese guy, who was the closest. Taking an arrow and laying it across the bow, she pulled back and slowed her breathing. One shot. That might be all you get. Even using a bow she wouldn’t be able to stay hidden. They would hunt her down but at least if she could draw them away from the cabin it might offer Landon a better chance of survival. She knew these woods like the back of her hand, it would be like leading them into a maze where only she knew the route to take.

  The Chinese guy was crouched near a tree, his AR-15 aimed directly at one of the cabin windows. Hitting him through the heart would be the easiest shot but there was a chance he wouldn’t die immediately and his cries would attract the others. No, she aimed for the back of his neck, it would cut off his windpipe and possibly…

  Before she could finish the thought, they opened fire on the cabin peppering it with as many rounds as possible from different angles. Muzzle flashes lit up the night as glass shattered, wood spat and holes appeared in the structure.

  Beth released the arrow.

  It was a perfect shot. The Chinese guy slumped forward without letting out even a whimper. Under the noise of gunfire the other three didn’t even notice as she scaled down the tree and shifted position, withdrawing another arrow. One down, three to go.

  The assault on the cabin ceased and she stopped running and hunkered down behind a large trunk, then moved up behind a boulder.

  “Tommy!”

  Damn it! They’d spotted him.

  Beth caught movement.

  “She’s out here. I told you. We should have killed her when we had the chance,” the bald guy said. All eyes were now on the forest, scanning, trying to pinpoint her location. She held her breath not wanting to release even a wisp of air.

  T
he bearded fellow they referred to as Cayden dropped to a crouch and directed Shifty Eyes over to his left while he went right. Baldy didn’t keep his position, instead he turned towards the cabin. No. She couldn’t let that happen.

  Pulling back an arrow, she fired again, this time however because he was moving it struck him in the shoulder. He let out a cry and cursed loudly before snapping it and continuing towards the door. “Over there!” Baldy bellowed figuring out her rough location based on where the arrow had hit him.

  Beth blasted away from the boulder as rounds tore up soil, tree trunks and rock around her. The hunt was on.

  Lying on the ground, his arm holding Grizzly down, Landon felt another wave of pain ripple up his legs. The rapid succession of gunfire tearing up the cabin gave him no other choice than to roll off the bed and stay low. The sudden impact of the drop felt almost as bad as the first time he tried to move inside the plane. A series of terrifying thoughts came to him: What if Beth was dead or worse — injured? What if they burst in and tortured him before putting him out of his misery?

  He thought back to Beth’s warning. If they enter, shoot, don’t hesitate. He’d been to a firing range, unloaded more than his fair share of rounds at paper targets, but killing a human? Could he really do that?

  Grizzly growled and struggled within his grasp. “Whoa, boy, sit still,” he said but it was useless, Grizzly was staring at the door barking loudly and Landon was losing his grip on the collar. The sound of boots outside, and a rattle of the door followed by multiple rounds fired at the lock, and he knew why the dog was losing it.

  He released his grip just as the door burst open.

  The man managed to get one leg in the door before Grizzly broke away from Landon at a full sprint and leaped in the air taking the man outside. The door slammed shut and he could hear the dog going crazy. “Grizzly!” he yelled. Unable to move his legs and with the P320 in hand, Landon clawed towards the door with his other arm.

  A sudden round and a high-pitched howl from the dog marked the end of the commotion outside. No. No! He brought up the handgun preparing for the worst.

  Outside he heard cursing then the door was kicked open.

  Landon rolled behind the table, brought the gun up and held it with both hands as a man staggered into view and unleashed a flurry of rounds, all of which were squeezed off at hip level. He spotted his opportunity and fired the gun, once, twice.

  The bullets went into his thigh and knee.

  The guy dropped; his rifle slid across the smooth wooden floor.

  As the man gripped his leg in agony, cursing and screaming, Landon rolled into view to take another shot only to have a knife thrown at him. It hit him in the upper right shoulder. Before he had a chance to fire a round, the guy dragged himself behind a wall that divided his room from the rest of the cabin. Still, Landon squeezed off five rounds through the wooden wall, hoping for a lucky shot.

  No such luck.

  He heard the man laugh. “I’m gonna gut you like a pig.”

  Landon winced as he reached up and pulled the knife from his shoulder and scrambled back against the bed, waiting for the man to emerge. He could hear him moving, crying out in pain but trying to do something. What was he up to? Landon held out the gun knowing he had ten rounds left. He unleashed another four at the wall hoping to catch him. One of them hit its mark as he heard the man wail. “You mother—”

  “Is she alive?” Landon asked cutting him off. There was a pause.

  “Not for long,” the guy replied.

  30

  Beth’s throat burned as she raced through the blackness of the forest using what little night sight she had. A crescent moon loomed overhead offering minuscule rays of light that pierced through a canopy of coniferous spruce-fir. The sky was unusually dark that night with no stars visible.

  With snow falling and limited vision, trees came into view only when they were a few feet away. She threaded her way around, sidestepping and lunging over large roots as she tried to avoid the onslaught of rounds lancing trees. Cold, with adrenaline pumping through her system, she barely noticed branches slapping her in the face or pain in her ankles as she tried to remain upright over uneven ground.

  Slipping her bow over her shoulder, she brought the rifle around and crouched by a tree, listening to where the men were. “She went that way!”

  “No, I’ve got tracks here. Russ…”

  She squinted through a flurry of snow and saw Cayden giving Russ directions.

  Would they give up if she kept on running? She doubted it. They would just double back and finish Landon and… Grizzly. She felt a twinge of pain at hearing her dog yelp. If they killed him, she’d go berserk. That was her only family now.

  Her father’s voice came back to her in that moment like a lost memory.

  They’d been out hunting, trying to locate wild boar, and fear had got the better of her after several close encounters. Though boar were more inclined to run from humans, attacks did happen. They were vicious and depending on who you asked, they were known to be even more dangerous than bears. She’d heard stories from her father of them killing a local man who was trying to protect his dogs.

  I know you’re scared but just breathe. You can do this.

  And like that she was back in the moment.

  Beth watched as Cayden went off to her left and Shifty Eyes disappeared out of view. Where did you go?

  She wanted to scale a tree to get a better lay of the land but any sudden movement was liable to give away her position. Carefully stepping out from behind a boulder she darted across to a tree and scanned her field of vision. Nothing.

  Then movement.

  Beth spun around but wasn’t fast enough.

  A gun butt struck her in the face and she found herself on the ground, her rifle gone. Scrambling, she raked the ground around her.

  “Forget it. Go now before he finds you.”

  She looked up to find Shifty Eyes holding her rifle and jerking his head towards the forest. “I’ll tell him you got away.”

  “Why?”

  “It doesn’t matter. Just go.”

  “Did you kill my father Rhett?”

  He stared at her, cast a glance over his shoulder then took a few steps back. “Kid, you don’t want to get involved in this. Go now.”

  “Did you?” she asked. She had to know.

  “No. Cayden did. Now get the fuck out of here before I change my mind.”

  She could see he was torn but why was he letting her go? She began to scramble when the other man emerged from the forest. His eyes darted between her and Shifty Eyes. “Russ. What the fuck…?” And like that he lifted his gun and went to fire a round at her but Russ lunged at him knocking the gun down. The revolver went off and a round tore up the earth nearby. Beth bounced up and pulled an arrow in an attempt to kill Cayden but the two of them were now rolling on the ground, down the slope, through the snow. She tried to get a bead on him but it was impossible without risking killing the other guy.

  More rounds erupted from the cabin.

  She looked that way and then back at the men.

  Stay or go back?

  The decision was purely selfish, a desire to kill the man who’d murdered her father. The same group that was responsible for the death of her mother, a death that was filed away by cops as nothing more than an overdose but she knew the truth. At least the truth according to her father, now even that she doubted.

  Turning back, she watched as the two men rolled over a bluff and vanished.

  For a second there was no sound, and then one single shot echoed.

  Beth pitched sideways and with her bow in one hand and the other gripping branches, she made her way to the edge of the bluff and peered over. The two of them were lying motionless. Were they dead? She hurried around and down a trail that opened up near where the men were. As she came around a large beech tree, only one man was in the snow — Russ. Her eyes scanned to the left, then right. Where are you?

  She bac
ked up only to feel the brunt force of something hard against her head.

  It didn’t knock her out but it dropped her.

  “Just like your old man. Always getting in the way.”

  Cayden lumbered into view, limping.

  “Why?” she asked.

  “It’s not personal, kid, just business. Your mother? That was personal.”

  Rage welled up inside her, her hand sliding to the machete on her hip. Cayden noticed. “You’ve got courage, kid; I give you that. But now…”

  He raised his revolver and cocked it. She didn’t close her eyes but went for the machete. She didn’t stand a chance but if she was gonna die, she would die fighting.

  A round cracked.

  She turned her head and saw Russ drop his rifle.

  Cayden gripped his chest and his knees buckled and he fell face first into the snow.

  Beth sat there for a second or two, unable to believe it was over. She scrambled back and hurried over to Russ who was gripping his own wound. “Sorry,” he managed to say before coughing up blood. His eyes glazed over and he was gone.

  Huddled in the corner of the cabin, Landon waited. Any second now he expected Baldy to emerge, a final assault that would end with one of them dead. He glanced at the handgun. He’d all but used up what rounds were in the magazine, firing randomly at the wall hoping to take him out before he attacked. One round had got him but the rest missed. Would he attack? He’d shot him multiple times. Maybe he was bleeding out behind the wall. There had been no movement for several minutes and for a fleeting moment, he felt a spark of hope that perhaps he was dead.

  That hope died as his attacker tossed something out and Landon reacted by firing the last round out of fear. Laughter followed. “I’d say you’re out of ammo now,” the man said. The bastard had been waiting him out. Expecting him to use up his rounds so he could then waltz out and finish him in brutal fashion. From the edge of the wall he saw the man hold out a small mirror and he caught him smile.