by Donald Wells
A shape appeared, but then grew more distinct as the cloud moved away. The new man was maybe a few years older than the man he had killed and looked enough like him to be a brother. He was carrying a gun, and from the size of it, he thought it might be a Desert Eagle. It wasn’t until the man nearly stepped on the body that he noticed it.
“Joey? Oh hell, Joey, what happened to you? Joey?”
Trying to sneak up on the man was risky, as his right side faced him. He thought of taking a shot, but knew that it would only bring any others around running to the scene. In the end, he decided to let the man go, and hoped that he would run off to get help.
KA POW!
The man fired his gun off to warn the others in his group that there was trouble. In most cases, this would have been a wiser action than running off to get help; in this case, however, it was fatal.
KA PUUW!
The old rifle proved to have quite a kick and the projectile it spit out took the top of the man’s head off.
He scrambled over while keeping low and picked the gun up from where it had fallen. He had been right; it was a .50 Desert Eagle, black, with a six-inch barrel. He dropped the now useless rifle and kept the gun in his hand.
He ran up the graveled road at a jog while keeping eyes and ears wide open. He was just about to step out onto the highway, when he saw the two men come out of the bushes on the other side of the road. He turned, thinking to head back towards the dock and then lose them in the trees, but the sound of trampling feet came from the graveled path, and from the sound, it was at least three people.
He brought to mind the map of the area that he had perused prior to the trip. To his right lay a narrow stretch of forest that dead-ended amid the rocky coast, to his left, more forest, but that ever-widening swath of trees ended in a rock wall, with the ocean on one side and a valley on the other, but beyond that lay another town, and safety.
He took off at a sprint to his left, convinced that the only thing that would save him would be to outrun his pursuers. Thankfully, the moon was cooperating and he could see well enough to navigate through the fir trees.
He knew how it would go down behind him. First, the two groups would meet and the men from the bushes would learn of their colleagues’ deaths. Next, someone would curse in anger and swear to see him dead, then, they would go in search of their leader, or if he were among them, take time to listen to what he had to say.
That was good. All that natural human behavior bought him much needed time, time to put distance between them, and time to send out a warning. He hunkered behind a thick tree and brought out his phone.
She answered after the fourth ring, in a sleepy voice.
“Hello?”
“It’s me, now listen, there’s trouble in Bel Rey.”
“What?”
“I know you’ve just woken up, but I need you wide awake now, baby.”
“I’m awake. I’m good. Tell me, what’s wrong?”
He told her what had happened, by the time he was done, she was bright-eyed.
“I’ll come get you.”
“No, it’s too dangerous. I’ll make my way back to you; besides, I’m on the run here.”
“Ramos! She and Burke are staying in the hotel. I’ll find them and tell them what’s happened.”
“Do that. Now I’ve got to go. Be careful.”
“How many men are after you?”
“At least five,”
“Oh God,”
“I made you a promise earlier, remember?”
“That you would never leave me,”
“And I intend to keep it.”
“I love you.”
“I love you too... goodbye.”
He put the phone away and began running.
***
Nearly an hour later, as he neared the end of the woods and could see open space in the distance, he began to wonder if his pursuers had given up on him, or if he had somehow lost them completely.
That’s when he saw the headlights behind him.
A vehicle, possibly a jeep, was crisscrossing between the trees, bouncing over fallen logs and branches and coming after him with a zeal that bordered on suicidal. One miscue by the driver would either ram the vehicle into a tree or off into a ditch.
This told him something. Whoever was driving that jeep wanted him more than anything.
He didn’t know if he’d been spotted and figured it didn’t really matter since the madman in the jeep wouldn’t stop until he ran out of room to drive, and attempting to hide among the trees would be foolishness, as the man’s friends could then take their time weeding him out.
He cleared the trees and felt naked beneath the unfiltered moonlit, as the sound of the engine grew closer. To his right was a sandy slope of rock that led down to the water’s edge, while to his left lay a long field of mud and sand.
He kept running straight ahead, climbing higher along the edge of the cliff, as the field on his left morphed into a rocky plain and sloped downward at a precipitant angle. He needed to move to the end of the cliff, where the trees began again, and past that, the town.
He made it to the crest just as the shot sounded. The bullet chipped off a piece of the rock wall well below his position and he knew that he was beyond his pursuer’s range, at least for the time being.
A man stood beside the now parked jeep. His silhouette, amidst the gloom of night was tall and broad. He was wearing a parka with a hood and the shape of a rifle was in his right hand. The man, once manic to catch up to him, now stood in a serene manner, as if he were waiting for something to happen.
A sound came to his ears then, as if something were scraping over the rocky path he had just run upon. He squinted, trying to pierce the fresh gloom as a cloud passed over and blocked the moonlight, and if the dog hadn’t growled before leaping, it surely would have ripped his throat out.
He managed to raise a protective arm just in time and the pit bull sank its teeth deep into the muscles of his forearm, causing him to drop the gun and cry out in pain.
Even as he brought his other hand up to fend off the dog, he realized that he was off balance and falling backwards into the rocky field below.
And the whole way down, the dog never let go.
***
Jessica was pacing behind the police barricades when Ramos came up from the dock to get her.
“Have you found my husband?”
“Not yet, I’m sorry, but Agent Burke got one of the men we captured to talk, and he gave us his probable position, it’s a few miles south of here.”
Jessica spread her arms wide.
“Then why the hell are you still here? Let’s go get him.”
“We’re waiting for the chopper to arrive. There was a violent storm here the other day that took down a lot of trees on back roads. Without all-terrain vehicles, a search from the air is our best bet.”
“When will the helicopter get here?”
“ETA, ten minutes,”
“Ten minutes? Oh God,”
To their left, two men loaded a pair of blanket-shrouded gurneys into an ambulance.
“Those two were dead when we got here, your husband’s work?”
“He was defending himself.”
“Yes, he’s very capable.”
“The men you say you’ve captured, is that everyone, the entire gang?”
Ramos hesitated for a second before answering.
“Our source, he told us that the two corpses over there were brothers. Their father, the leader of this group, he took off after your husband, looking for revenge.”
“Oh no, but at least it’s only one man,” Jessica said, and then saw Ramos break eye contact.
“What are you not telling me, Teresa?”
“The father, he’s not alone... he’s got four other sons,”
***
After half-falling, half-tumbling down into the canyon, he lay on his side among a weedy, rocky landscape in a symphony of pain. He told himself to move, to get
up, to defend himself against the damn dog that caused this misery, however, the misery itself proved too great an obstacle, and for the first few moments, all he could do was moan.
Then he heard it. Mixed in among his own sounds of misery were those of the dog, a whining yelp that actually caused him to feel sympathy for the beast and he turned his head to see what had befallen it.
One of the animal’s back legs was broken and also the opposite one in the front, plus, judging by the malformation on his left side, a rib as well. He remembered landing on top of the dog as they hit bottom and figured it was his bodyweight that had caused most of the damage.
As the radiating waves of pain subsided to the level of mere agony, he managed to pull himself up to his hands and knees and began assessing the damage.
His right arm was torn and bloody from the work of the dog, but bleeding very little, indicating that the dog’s teeth had missed any major blood vessels. The pinky on his left hand was pointing upward at an odd angle and the index finger refused to bend. His legs both looked fine and straight, however, the sweatpants he wore were now mottled by bloody tears and he realized that the rocky earth had cut him more than once.
He forced himself to stand, knowing that his parka-wearing pursuer wouldn’t just assume that the dog had finished him, and would soon make his way down into this valley, likely by driving through the field of mud he’d passed while he was running. He glanced up, and it was like standing at the bottom of a soup bowl.
The valley was surrounded on three sides by nearly vertical hills, while behind him was an endless field dotted by trees. The quickest way out would be to traverse the field of mud, but he had no idea how deep the mud went and if he were to step into a hole and break an ankle, the man in the parka would surely kill him.
He looked down and cursed the dog for causing his failure to reach safety. As it stood now, he had to face a mobile enemy who was also armed.
“I’m gonna kill you slow, mister.”
He looked up. Standing atop the cliff was the man with the parka, and he had his rifle pointed right at him.
“I ain’t gonna shoot you. You ain’t gettin’ off that easy. It’s gonna take days for you to die.”
The man’s voice was harsh, raspy, and underscoring it was a southern drawl. He looked to be about his height, but twenty years older, and his hair was combed forward, to hang slightly over his forehead.
“Them two that you killed? They was my sons,” the man then pointed beyond him. “And look, here come my other sons.”
He turned and gazed out at the valley floor, knowing that if the man meant to shoot him, he had plenty of chances already. Far across the plain were lights, headlights most likely, time was running out.
He looked back up at the man and saw that he was now grinning at him.
“You gonna die, mister, and you gonna die bad.”
And after saying that, the man disappeared from view, but he knew that he was headed back to the jeep and that he would soon be down there to kill him.
He heard the dog whimper loudly. He walked over and stared down at the injured beast.
“You’ll either starve or get eaten by something if I just leave you here like this.”
The dog let out a pitiful whine.
Nearby was a hefty rock, he lifted it up with both hands, walked back over to the dog, and raised it as he prepared to strike.
***
After taking care of the dog, he gazed across the valley floor at the oncoming lights and gauged them to still be miles away. He hoped he was right. On the left, about a thousand yards away, the hill sloped downward and offered an opening. That was where the muddy field bordered the valley, and it was where the man with the parka would be coming from.
He considered his options.
He could run again, but he was already tired and his pursuers had vehicles.
He could stand his ground and fight; however, without a weapon of his own, the odds didn’t look good.
He could outthink them.
Ahead lay the first tree of any real size, and beside it, a group of saplings, one of which was snapped in two at about the three-foot mark, its top half hanging by a thread and showing dying leaves. He stared at the tree as an idea formed and then rushed to it and pulled until the top of the sapling tore free of its stump.
He had just finished when he heard the first roar of the jeep as it fought its way through the mud, meanwhile, the lights of the other vehicle had grown significantly nearer and would be upon him soon.
His last act before seeking shelter was to strip off his white sweatshirt and tie one of its sleeves around the top of the stump, and then he scrambled to cover and waited for his chance.
***
The man in the parka stopped his muddy jeep beside the tree and stared at the sweatshirt blowing in the breeze. Afterward, he looked about at the sparse trees and bellowed.
“If this white shirt was your idea of a flag of surrender, well then, I got news for you, there ain’t no surrender!”
A moment later, he leapt down from a branch of the tree to land atop the man, and the two of them began to struggle for the rifle.
***
As the first faint tint of daylight seeped across the landscape, Jessica, along with Ramos and Burke, came upon a scene from a nightmare, as the chopper they were in flew over the trees and hovered above the valley floor.
Five men were huddled around a man down on his knees with his hands clasped together behind his head, the tallest of the men wore a parka with a fur hood, while the man on the ground wore a white sweatshirt with black sweatpants, exactly what her husband had been wearing when last she saw him.
The man in the parka pointed at the man on the ground, and the other four men raised their weapons and began firing.
Jessica let out an anguished scream, but then watched in amazed bewilderment as the man in the parka stepped back and began mowing down the other four men with his rifle. When he was done, the four men lay dead on the ground, but the man they’d been shooting, the man on his knees, was still on his knees, in seeming refusal to go down, and in fact, still held his hands behind his head.
“What the hell...?” Burke muttered, but then he brought a pair of binoculars up to his eyes, and after adjusting them, he let out a loud laugh. “Oh, oh he’s a beauty this one, an absolute beauty,”
Jessica looked over at Burke with eyes of despair.
“What just happened?”
Burke handed her the binoculars.
“It’s all good, Doctor, take a look.”
Jessica gazed through the binoculars and watched as the man in the parka leaned the empty rifle inside the jeep, and then he turned around, and she saw the face of her husband.
A sound of absolute joy poured forth from her throat as she did a little dance in her seat, and then Burke told the pilot to take them down.
***
As Jessica bandaged his arm with supplies from the chopper’s first-aid kit, he explained what happened, and throughout the whole thing, Burke kept asking questions.
“So let me get this straight,” Burke said. “After you survive the attack by the dog and the fall down that cliff over there, you still have the presence of mind to come up with that?”
Burke pointed over at the broken tree, which now supported the impaled corpse of the parka wearer, whose hands were lashed together behind his head by the drawstring taken from his hood.
He stared at Burke, wondering if the man’s tone was truly one of wonder or an attempt at mockery.
“I had to think of something, Agent Burke, and this was the best I could come up with.”
“So after you lure him over here to the tree, you drop down on him and kill him, then what?”
“Then I switched clothes and positioned him atop the stump.”
“Positioning him atop the stump, how’d that happen?”
“From behind, I picked him up from beneath his arms and pressed him downwards, until the jagged end of the stump pu
nctured him beneath his rib cage.”
Burke shook his head in amazement.
“So then the boys show up and see a man they think is their father, holding a rifle on the man they believe killed their brothers, then, you give the order to start shooting, and while they’re blasting the crap out of Daddy’s corpse, you step back and blow them all away, right?”
“That’s right,”
“You do realize that you wasted an entire family in one night?”
“It was them or me. I chose me.”
“Hey, I’m not criticizing; according to local law enforcement the Hitchen’s clan over there was responsible for half the serious crime in the area. None of these dudes were saints by a long shot, plus, we got to make a multi-million dollar drug bust.”
Jessica looked over at Ramos, who had just finished conferring with the forensic crew that had arrived in a second helicopter.
“Can we go now?”
“Of course, but we’ll need a formal statement soon.”
He walked Jessica over to the chopper, but then turned and began walking towards a group of small trees.
“I’ll be right back.”
“Where are you going?”
“There’s another passenger,”
When he returned from the trees, Jessica saw that he had the pit bull swaddled inside the parka.
“Oh, he’s a cutie, but look at his legs, and God he’s so skinny,”
“He’s lucky to be alive,” he said.
“Take us up!” Burke told the pilot, and they lifted into the air, and away from the valley of death.
TAKEN! 12 – TWO CAN KEEP A SECRET...
He sat in his place at the head of the table and gazed over at their dinner guests.
Carly Zhang, their researcher, had brought along her boyfriend, Michael Hartmann. Hartmann was twenty-two, of average height and build, and blond. His dark-blue eyes were ablaze with intelligence and he seemed nearly as nervous as Carly was.
Michael looked back at him and smiled.
“Carly told me that you’re the one who developed half the Apps on my phone. I’d love to pick your brain sometime about software development, Mr. White.”