Spirit of a Hunter

by Sylvie Kurtz

  “Thanks for the concern.”

  “Need a hand?”

  “I’m good.”

  “I can see that.” Boggs squatted and peered down. “I’m glad we’re getting this chance to talk. I’d hate for you to die not knowing what happened to the girl.”

  Sabriel’s jaw tensed.

  “I’ve got two men shadowing her right now.” Boggs dripped ash on Sabriel’s head. “Once she’s shown us where the boy is, she’ll have an unfortunate fall. Along with Tommy. Who knows when their bones will be found.” The worm of a smile returned and he unholstered his pistol, looked at it fondly. “I was going to kill you, but then I thought, no. He has a right to know when it’s all over.”

  Boggs squinted and scanned the horizon. “I do believe this is part of the flight path.” His eyes sparked with wicked pleasure when they returned to pierce Sabriel’s gaze. “When you hear a helicopter fly by, you’ll know it’s over. That you’ve lost everything all over again—Tommy, the girl.” He stood up. “The boy.”

  Boggs dropped his cigarette on Sabriel’s hand, then crushed it with the heel of his boot until bone ground into rock. “Can’t risk a forest fire now, can we?”

  Wincing against the searing pain, Sabriel fought for purchase. Boggs dug harder.

  Pain pulsed in white-hot shards.

  “Careful, now,” Boggs said. “Don’t miss the ledge. I’d hate for you to miss the show.”

  Sabriel lost his grip.

  * * *

  NORA MOANED and cracked her eyes open. Bald rock all around as barren as the moon. Was that snow over there? In October? Too early. What was she doing outside, anyway? She rolled over, anchoring the throbbing in her head with the heels of both hands against her temples. Her stomach revolted.

  She pulled up on her hands and knees.

  “Hold it right there.”

  In slow motion, she turned her head. The blurred muzzle of a pistol swam before her and she remembered the hit. She followed the length of black sleeve up to the hard face. Hutt. How long had she been out? The sky was dark with storm clouds, but it was still day. Not that it mattered. She was cornered. Her heart shook against the cage of her ribs. She was trapped with no hope of rescue.

  She’d really messed up this time. Hutt was going to kill her, roll her body over the cliff and make her disappear. Oh, Scotty.

  “Nora? Are you okay?”

  “Tommy?”

  Each movement hurt, but she focused on Tommy, hands tied behind his back, ankles shackled, his face black and blue as if he’d fought a mountain lion. Blood caked his blond hair and one eye was swollen shut.

  “Scotty?” she asked and couldn’t keep the panic out of her voice.

  “He’s okay. He’s safe.”

  “Where?”

  “Calm down. He’s okay.”

  How did he expect her to calm down when he was tied up and she couldn’t move without the whole earth tilting off its axis? With the Colonel’s thug pointing a gun at them and Scotty missing? “He’s alone. My, God, Tommy, how could you leave a ten-year-old boy alone in this wilderness?” Just left him alone to wonder if you’d ever be back. “He could die.”

  “He’s safe.” His face screwed up in pain. “I made sure.”

  She drew in a shaky breath. “Tommy, please. I have to know.”

  “Sabriel will find him.”

  Waves of anger and terror stormed through her. Don’t fall apart. Stay strong. There’s only you now. “Sabriel’s hurt.”

  Tommy’s curse was cut off by the throb of a helicopter, pulsing through the air in a rattling heartbeat. The black bird rose from the mountain’s side like a raptor and settled its spindly legs on the gray granite. The wash of the rotors pummeled against her, kicked up silt into her eyes, lashed her hair about her face in a stinging whip. Two men, armed with rifles, as well as the Colonel, jumped out of its belly.

  No, not him. Not now.

  She wanted to speed through this nightmare, get to the end, get to Scotty. A fit of shakes rattled through her, beating her heart like a trapped bird. She was going to be sick. Right here. Right now.

  A splash of cold wind tamped down the nausea.

  Stay strong. For Scotty.

  In this wind, she was surprised that the aircraft had been allowed to go up at all. But then the Colonel never played by the rules, and his pilot probably feared the Colonel more than the weather.

  Hard reality was that her son was still missing, that she was on top of a mountain, surrounded by mountains, that she now had four weapons pointed at her skull. How the helicopter had gotten here didn’t matter.

  She wanted to live.

  She wanted to find Scotty.

  She wanted to see Sabriel again.

  And if she wanted any of those things to happen, she’d have to be her own hero.

  * * *

  SABRIEL PULLED HIMSELF up and over the lip of the cliff, the press of wasted time flaying at him like a sharp knife in sadistic hands. Boggs’s tracks were easy to find. Where was he heading? Why was he taking the long way to Lightning Point? Had Nora tracked the wrong line?

  Ignoring the pain throbbing in his ankle, Sabriel moved parallel to Boggs’s expected tracks, cutting in once in a while to check his progress. He reached the ridge soon after noon. In this exposed area, wind and cold whipped through the layers of his clothes, made him aware of every bruise, every broken finger. He’d lost the track and would have to cut again. Logic told him to go left, but something inside pulled him to the right. That inner voice had never failed him and, this late, he couldn’t afford to second-guess or he’d risk disaster.

  Just as he was about to give up and cut back to the left, a glint in the distance caught his eye. A gum wrapper. And right there, Boggs’s track.

  Fatigue, pain, worry played tricks on Sabriel’s mind, skewed his thinking, made his movements reckless. The oppressive weight of time flickered the fuse of panic. He shook his head. Stay sharp. Giving in to the exhaustion was one step from sloppy and letting down his guard. One step closer to losing Nora.

  He squatted next to a track, studying its unlikely path, when his spine stiffened in warning.

  At the moment Boggs fired his weapon the track’s truth blossomed into knowing. Sabriel had been running on pure emotions, and that had put him square in the path of danger. Boggs had been laying tracks, taking him away from Nora, circling in for the kill.

  And for his mistake, Sabriel was going to die.

  Reacting with pure instinct, driven by rage, he rolled to one side.

  Instead of finding his chest, the bullet grazed his arm. A hot wire of pain unleashed the base animal in him, blinded sense and reason. Boggs plowed out of the trees seven yards away and came up for the kill, aiming his weapon right at Sabriel’s face. Sabriel waited until Boggs’s ego took him too close and swept his feet out from under him, disarmed him.

  He hit Boggs with every ounce of power he had left. Fist connected with face. Punch after punch exploded out of him, until Boggs flopped like roadkill.

  Sabriel tied him up to a tree so that any movement of cuffed hands and feet would rip off his balls.

  Sabriel shook the fog of pain from his brain. He should’ve known what the track was telling him, that Boggs was on his tail, that Boggs had laid them down to suck him in and trap him. Beaten by a jerk that wasn’t all that good a tracker. But he couldn’t afford to let his emotions overshadow his thinking.

  Sabriel cut tracks until he found Nora’s and pushed himself to make headway until he was dead tracking—

  following faster than she was moving. As the beating pulse of helicopter blades chopped at the air in the distance, he prayed he wasn’t too late.

  * * *

  THOUGH THE COLONEL smiled, his expression did not light with friendliness. “Where’s the boy?”

  “I’ll never let him go back to your asylum.” Tommy turned to Nora. “That’s what he wanted to do. He was going to drug you. Have one of his doctors testify that you were mentally unst
able. Then once you were caged, Scotty would be his. I heard him, Nora.” His gaze, the most sober Nora had seen it in years, implored understanding. “I had to get Scotty away from the mansion.”

  “You did the right thing, Tommy.” I just wished you’d trusted me with your plan.

  “Tell me where the boy is,” the Colonel ordered.

  Tommy struggled to his shackled feet and faced his father, steady eye to steady eye. “Never.”

  Tendons strained at the Colonel’s neck. Icy anger darkened his voice. “You will obey a direct order!”

  “You know what I learned in your house, Colonel?” Tommy asked, the fear that had cowered him all of his life gone. “I learned that I didn’t matter. It took Nora to show me that I was worth loving. It took Scotty to show me what unconditional love was all about. It took leaving your choking rein to learn I was worth something.”

  “Then you learned nothing.” A cold, hard smile crimped the Colonel’s lips, then dissolved. He raised his rifle and pointed it at her. “Tell me where the boy is or I will kill her.”

  Tommy’s head whipped in her direction. “Trust me, Nora.”

  “Last chance, Tommy boy.” The Colonel took aim.

  Tommy spit in his father’s direction. “Never.”

  “Your choice.” The Colonel squeezed the trigger.

  Tommy lurched, launching himself at her.

  She fell sideways. Her head ringing with the report of gunfire and the hard slap of granite. Her lungs emptied and she could not catch another breath. I’m dead, I’m dead, I’m dead. Oh, Scotty, I’m so sorry!

  Tommy’s heavy body smacked onto hers.

  Warm blood stained the rock under her head.

  * * *

  SABRIEL CRAWLED to the edge of the scrub of jack pines, sliding silently on patches of lichen, being careful not to dislodge a stone that would attract the attention of the Colonel’s men below.

  Two men with rifles. Hutt with a pistol at Nora’s head. Costlow threatening Tommy with his size and a branch big enough to knock out a bear. The Colonel with a pistol at his hip.

  With all eyes on Tommy, Sabriel approached the sharpshooter standing on the helicopter’s left, positioned to keep the Colonel in his sight, but out of view of his twin on the other side. Using one of the pressure points Grandpa Yamawashi had shown him, Sabriel took out the soldier and dragged him into the brush, leaving him so he could do no harm. Sabriel stalked to the right side of the helicopter, slipped under the nose, out of sight of the pilot, and stunned the second rifleman with a nerve pinch to the neck.

  Two down, three to go. He slithered around the perimeter of the bare rock, positioning himself behind Costlow. Danger shot in the Colonel’s eyes as he aimed his weapon at Nora.

  Too far, Sabriel thought. I’m too far.

  Tommy shoved Nora and took the bullet intended for her. Blood burst in an ugly red bloom on Tommy’s chest before he collapsed onto Nora.

  For a second Sabriel could do nothing more than stare.

  The creep had killed his own son in cold blood. But Sabriel couldn’t think about the blow now, couldn’t let the sharpness of the pain detract him. Not with Nora the next target.

  As Sabriel maneuvered in close to take out Costlow, Nora rose to her feet and his stomach dropped.

  A furious aura of strength surrounded her. Yielding was dying, and she was not going to give another inch.

  A still chill iced her voice. “You’ve just lost the one thing you wanted.”

  Then she moved.

  Nora, no!

  * * *

  NORA SHOOK Tommy’s limp body. “Tommy!”

  Blood. So much blood.

  “Nora…‘Gimme Shelter…’ ‘Norwegian Wood…’ ‘Atlantic City…’”

  “No, Tommy, what have you done?”

  She rolled him off of her, shed her fleece jacket and pressed it against Tommy’s chest to stanch the flow. “Tommy! Talk to me.”

  “He’s dead,” the Colonel said, no expression tainting his voice. “And if you don’t want to end up in the same condition, you’re going to stand up, raise your hands and lace them on the back of your head. You will not cheat me out of my legacy.”

  Tommy’s only chance of survival was for her to pretend he was dead.

  The Colonel didn’t care about Tommy. Didn’t care about Scotty. Only about winning.

  Her stomach curdled at the thought of Scotty growing up under the Colonel’s thumb. Of her sweet boy cracking like Tommy. Or worse, hardening into a clone of the Colonel. There was no way she would simply hand her son over to him, hand him the power to shape her son into a monster.

  She had to buy herself time. Tommy had saved her life. She couldn’t waste his sacrifice. She had to find a way to save Scotty.

  Soaked in fear sweat, she rose and did as the Colonel asked. “You’ve just lost the one thing you wanted.”

  “Scotty? No. I’ll still find him.” His eyes shone with triumph. Her flesh prickled. “As for Tommy, he’s been lost for a long time. I simply put him out of his misery.”

  “I always thought soldiers had more control than the average person,” she said, proud that her voice remained steady in spite of the fear trembling inside her. “But your impulsive act lost you Scotty. Only Tommy knows where Scotty’s hidden.”

  “I have trackers who can find a needle in a haystack.”

  “Such brilliant trackers that they need three months to track down two inexperienced teenage boys.”

  He raised his rifle. “You’re of no use to me.”

  “Yes, I am. I can find Scotty. Tommy gave me the song.”

  Her busy, busy mind spun, tumbled, reeled. The world shrunk to now, to the Colonel and his men, to the thwacking heartbeat of the helicopter blades. To this one moment in time where if she didn’t rock the boat, she might as well die.

  She’d gotten into this mess because of her past decisions. Choosing not to fight. Choosing to accept. Choosing to cause no ripple that would leave her alone in the dark.

  This was not the role model she wanted for Scotty.

  She took a deep breath. Another. Her damp hands wiped the side of her pants.

  Darkness from the approaching storm brewed on the horizon. The wind belted a violent rap, tossing the helicopter off its perch like a toy, sending it hovering into the sky nearby.

  “I’ll give you Scotty and you’ll leave me here. Alive.”

  To her ears, her voice sounded hard, convincing.

  The Colonel’s smile was ghastly. His laughter as sharp and sudden as ice cubes cracking in water. “I could kill you right here and nobody would ever find your corpse.”

  “You want your grandson to see you as a hero. You won’t kill his mother within his eyesight. And you won’t risk his spending a night alone out here. Not with this storm coming. Not when the cold could trigger an asthma attack and kill him.”

  “You think you can manipulate me?” the Colonel asked.

  “No. You’re too smart. You know that what I’m saying is true.”

  “Too little, too late, Nora.” He approached, a hunter squaring off for the kill. “I gave you a home, shelter, prestige. I opened my home to you, even though you were nothing but street scum. I sheltered you, protected you, gave you all the advantages that come with the Camden name. All I asked in return was that you give me an heir.”

  “I gave you one. A beautiful, sweet boy.”

  “You were too soft on the boy. How is the boy supposed to grow a spine that way?”

  His words glanced away against the new hard skin of her determination.

  “You’re right,” she said. “I admit that I was weak. I should have stood up for Tommy when you threw him out and limited his visits with Scotty. I should have stood up for Scotty when you tried to push him beyond his abilities. I should have stood up for myself when you accused me of being a bad mother. I will always regret that weakness. No more. I won’t let you ruin Scotty’s life.”

  Logic collapsed, blanking her mind, disappearing i
nto a vortex of pure instinct. Everything around her slowed, slowed, slowed, until her heartbeat drummed inside her head. Her hand reached into her pocket, wrapped around Scotty’s monkey fist.

  The Colonel’s hand was steady on the grip. His finger curled around the trigger, tightened.

  She launched Scotty’s monkey fist with all of her strength and it found its target of the Colonel’s eye.

  The Colonel reeled back, recovered and pointed his gun once again at Nora’s chest. Anger cresting in a powerful wave propelled her forward. With a warrior’s cry, she jammed all the years of fear, hatred and fury into the Colonel’s outstretched arm and rammed into her jailor’s body as if it were nothing but a boneless uniform.

  As they fell in a heap, the Colonel cushioned her landing. His elbow cracked against granite. His weapon fired wildly, three bullets strafing the air in a futile SOS. A fourth punctured the helicopter. The pilot’s head smacked against the plastic bubble, splotching a web of red.

  The helicopter dipped. The skid tilted, spun, unraveling a rescue ladder from the bird’s belly. Then, like a jouster’s lance, the skid aimed straight for Nora. She rolled off the Colonel to get out of the way.

  Madness burning in his eyes, the Colonel lifted his weapon. Keeping tabs on the wayward helicopter, Nora kicked at the Colonel’s wrist, forcing it into the path of the flaying ladder. The tangle of rope pulled tight around the Colonel’s weapon and arm, diverted the gun’s spew of bullets into the sky and hoisted him off the ground. He reached up reflexively with his free arm and grabbed a ladder rung. The pilotless bird pitched again, caught a swirling current of air, and spiraled out of control over the side of the mountain.

  The Colonel’s scream vanished in the explosion that boomed like thunder, shaking the whole valley.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Dead. The Colonel was dead.

  He could take his own son’s life and not blink.

  He could ruin his grandson’s life, and think he was doing him a favor.

  Violent. Controlling. Tyrannical.

  But he was dead. And she was free.