Of Love and Deception

by Melisa Hamling

  Daniella didn’t think twice. In nothing but a hospital gown and panties, she exited the room. She rushed down the hall and ran like hell until she escaped onto the front lawn.

  25 - If I Die

  Rain pelted her skin, but Daniella didn’t care. After she’d determined the driveway or anything in front of the cabin wouldn’t be safe, she darted toward the back and pumped her legs as fast as they’d go. She scrambled through the pine needles and rocks tearing at her feet. She was numb to the pain and her surroundings, only frantically searching for a safe haven away from her demise.

  ~~~

  Out of sight and out of breath, Daniella knelt over, but didn’t dare sit or stop moving for long, maybe just long enough to lap up some much needed oxygen and to secure the cell phone by tying it to one of the strings at the neck of the hospital gown. Unsure of her direction, she stood, flipped her wet hair over her shoulders and rubbed the water away from her eyes. She examined her surroundings. Her heart pounded, but pounded harder with every beat of panic setting in. It was the fear of dying and fear of heights mixed with claustrophobia—surrounded by endless mountains. She willed her dirty, bloody feet to move.

  Daniella continued to run, alert to every sound, louder noises causing her to jump. She tried to focus on something, anything. The baby was an easy focus and she prayed she’d be able to keep it safe.

  A bang, bang, bang, stopped her cold in her tracks. “Guhh …ggunfire. LLord help me.” A silent sob escaped her. Oh, no! Gunshot. Falcon? Please, Lord, help him… and help me. I can’t die. Please keep us alive.

  A rush of adrenaline shot through her, and she was certain it came from God. She ran fast, as fast as her pregnant body would go. It didn’t matter that she was contracting, she kept running anyway with continual prayers for the safety of her unborn child, prayers that Falcon wasn’t dead and that he had removed enough of the medicated suppository to keep her from going into full blown labor.

  The faint sound of footfalls crunching ground debris somewhere in the distance caused Daniella to pick up the pace, but the sound continued far behind her, getting louder and closer. Her heart raced so much that she couldn’t look back. There were only four directions, three of which would keep her on solid ground, the fourth required scaling down the mountain. All directions offered no protection and threatened death. If she moved forward, she had no choice but to scale down the wall and if she were lucky, she’d find some sort of leverage, a lip, or a hole to crawl into.

  The baby picked this moment to roll around and it was enough to cause Daniella to brave the danger, face her biggest fear, or give their lives away to the psychotic woman who wanted her dead, who’d killed Blake, and wanted to steal her baby. She’d be an open target if she chose any other direction but down. She inhaled a deep breath and slid down the rocky slope, gravel and debris scuffing up her skin until she came to the end of the slope and faced nothing but mountainous walls only meant for the bravest of people daring to scale them. Cliffhangers. A wall monkey, whatever you want to call them, but Daniella wasn’t one of them.

  Confronted with her personal fear, Daniella had no choice but to challenge it. This was a life or death situation and her life wasn’t the only life at stake. If Meg caught up to her, she’d have to drag her back up the path, which could turn out badly. Only one choice would give Daniella and the baby any hope of survival.

  Far below and slightly west, Daniella spied a small hollow in the wall. A very erect, straight up, straight down wall.

  Okay, okay. I can do this. And if I make it to that hole, when I make it to that hole, and if Meg finds me, I might have a chance to kick her away, and she’ll fall to her much deserved death. I gotta do it. We can do this. It’s me and you, baby. And I really want to see you! Okay. Gotta go now. Here we go. God, give me strength and courage to carry us through this.

  Daniella sucked in a lungful of air, examined the wall, which held many deep cracks, lips, and indented shelves, and then determined her path. She released her breath and sucked in another, reached for a pointed edge, grasped it, reached her other hand to an extended edge and grasped that one as well. She slid one foot across the smooth wall, slipped it into a crack and did the same with the other. She clung to the wall, her head turned with a cheek pressed against the cool, damp stone.

  Don’t look down don’t look down don’t look down. Please, God. Please help me.

  She jammed a foot into another crack, biting back the pain it caused and prayed it would hold her. After a few minutes, she released her grip and fumbled frantically for another rock to grab hold of; repeating the sequence, grabbing a rocky edge, sliding her throbbing feet into cracks or searching for some sort of footage while finding the strength to fight against the crosswinds. She knew not to look over her shoulder or anywhere other than her next step, toward the hollow.

  If only there were some cliffhangers scaling those walls right now, they could help me. Almost there. Guide me oh God. Please lead us to safety. Oh, Lord...

  Daniella gasped. Rocky debris fell from far above and grazed her cheek. The sound of snapping of branches was getting closer. No! Or maybe her senses were heightened, alert to every sound near and far.

  First, there was a harsh throaty chuckle. Then a voice that sounded like it walked right off the set of Stephen King’s The Shining. “COME OUT, COME OUT WHEREVER YOU ARE.”

  Don’t panic. Calm, quiet breaths. God, please don’t let her hear me!

  There were more crunching sounds. At that moment, Daniella took the last step and slid into the crevice, squeezing herself as far as she could into the tight space, so tight she couldn’t even sit, not with her protruding belly.

  BANG! BANG!

  NNo! Daniella clenched the hem of the dirty, torn up gown and stuffed enough of it into her mouth to stifle a scream. Her nostrils flared hard and wide. The pounding in her head and rapid thrash of her heartbeat pressing against her jugular veins nearly caused her to pass out. Acid rose in her throat threatening to spill over. Daniella had to bite down harder to keep from retching.

  “OH LITTLE PRETTY ONE? COME OUT, COME OUT.”

  Dead silence.

  “COME OUT OR I’LL KILL THE FUCKING KID TOO.” The shrill sound of the psychotic voice echoed high above her.

  Daniella shook violently, partly out of fear and partly from the contractions, which came in waves and gave no signs of letting up. A sudden tickle at the back of her shoulder caused her to jump and she almost blew her cover by screaming, but it came out in a silent rasp.

  Please oh please don’t let her find us. Daniella reached behind her shoulder and smacked at the crawling thing, probably a spider, and remembered the cell phone. She untied the strings of the gown around her neck, snagged the phone, string attached, and with a shaky finger, she punched in Cruz’s number.

  Please let it work. Let there be reception. Please oh please! It rang four times.

  Please answer… oh please! On the sixth ring, he answered.

  “Where is she? Did you find her? What the fuck is going—”

  Daniella cried and blubbered incomplete sentences and broken words. She wanted to scream and tell him it was her and not Falcon, but she couldn’t for fear Meg would find her. She knew Meg lurked somewhere above in search of her soul.

  “Whaa—who is this?”

  “Mmm,” she squeaked. “D-Daa—”

  “Oh, God! Daniella? Is that you? I can hardly hear you. Where are you?” His voice trembled. She sobbed. “MMount… mountains. Cl-Cliff. Hollow. MMeg’s… geh-go… kuh-kill me. Gonna kill me!” She screeched. “St-Steal. Steal buh-baby. YYours. Please. HHelp—”

  “Bloody hell! Whatever you do, don’t hang up, Daniella. Don’t. Hang. Up.” His voice trailed off. She could vaguely hear him, but she picked up the sounds in the background. There were people moving and talking. Radio calls of accidents, dispatchers designating assignments and something about a swat team told her he was already at the police station. But which one? At home, in Florida, or….
No there was no possible way he’d be in the Rocky’s.

  She could vaguely hear Cruz speaking. “Yes… right where the PI said… the cabin…”

  Some kind of chaotic noise blurred out his voice and she closed her eyes.

  “Daniella?!” he shouted in a voice filled with panic.

  “I… I’m here,” she squeaked.

  “Whatever you do, don’t give up. I’m coming. The authorities are working on tracing the call—triangulating the cell phone to locate you. You might hear a series of booms; but it’s to see if we can hear them in the background through your cell phone.” He paused. “Don’t panic.” Stay awake, stay awake.

  “I’m… I’m so sleepy. I don’t think I can stay awake,” she whispered before she passed out for an undetermined amount of time.

  A gust of wind and bitter chill jolted Daniella to wake. She panicked.

  “Cruz!” She cried hysterically and brought the phone to her ear. “Cruz?” Static and shuffling sounds filtered through the phone. “Please. I-I can’t hang—”

  “Oh, thank God! Daniella, don’t you dare give up on me!” Cruz shouted through the speaker. “You hear me? You have to fight, baby! Fight for us, for the baby, but you can’t give up,” he pleaded.

  “Okay,” she whimpered. “I… I’ll fight.”

  “That a girl. Now save your energy. Don’t speak, just listen to my voice. There’s a swat team swarming the premises, the cabin. I can see them from the helicopter.”

  Helicopter. He’s near? The thought warmed her heart.

  “We’re going to find you, baby, and when we do, I’m going to wrap you in my arms… never let you go.” He paused, probably to keep her from hearing his own heartache. She caught the sounds of his gasps but she was too shaky to comprehend. He took a deep breath and continued. “I should have never belie—”

  “NOOO!” A primal scream came out of Daniella.

  “YOU—” Meg had dropped into the narrow opening of the crevice hanging by her hands; her body swinging side to side.

  “SAY GOODBYE, YOU STUPID BITCH! She let one hand loose, dipped it into the top of her shirt and whipped out a gun.

  The rage burned feverishly in Meg’s eyes. Daniella knew she was as good as dead as Meg aimed the gun at her head. Spit flew from her mouth as she shouted, “YOU FUCKING WHORE! YOU’RE…”

  BANG! BANG! BANG! Three shots went off as Meg’s grip failed and she suddenly dropped out of sight.

  “… Dahhhh—” Meg’s voice faded.

  There was a thunk, thunk, thunk and then a snap, snap, snap of popping branches.

  Daniella’s head swirled. The cell phone—now unraveled from the string on the gown—clattered to the ground. Meg was no longer there.

  All light had faded.

  ~~~

  The sound of a helicopter and muffled shouting brought Daniella back to reality. At first, she panicked and blinked rapidly, then lifted her hand to shield her eyes from the flood of lights. After her eyes adjusted, she could see a man sitting in a metal basket swinging from a long cord connected to a helicopter. He kept shouting even though he wavered right near her. There wasn’t enough room for another person to enter the narrow hollow safely, which probably made for a complicated rescue.

  “You’ve got to reach out and take my hand! Step into the basket!” His shouts muffled by the sound of the helicopter blades.

  The fear of falling had Daniella choking and gasping. She tried to step forward, tried to squeeze out of the crevice, but a horrific pain shot through her foot. Her legs were unsteady, weak and numb from the strain of running, sliding, falling and climbing. She shook her head at the rescue worker and dropped her chin to her chest as she pointed to her bloody, battered feet. Tears streamed down her cheeks and she swallowed back a scream threatening to escape her throat.

  “Okay, Okay!” He waved, shouted and then hollered something into a walkie-talkie. The rescue worker and the basket ascended back toward the helicopter.

  Another rise of panic gripped Daniella. Come back! Please don’t leave me… aaagh!

  A few minutes later, he descended again. “I’m going to toss over this jacket. Do you think you can hold out your hand and try to catch it?” he shouted.

  She stretched out her arm, careful not to move any other part of her body.

  “Okay! Here we go!” He tossed it but Daniella didn’t catch it. The second time he threw it, the vest caught her hand but she didn’t have enough strength to grasp it. She braced herself, held her arm out, tightened her bicep and concentrated on her fingers, praying she’d have enough willpower and strength to latch on to the vest, but he didn’t throw it again.

  “Hang in there!” He was reeled with the helicopter and the sound of it disappeared over the top of the mountain. Daniella wasn’t sure she could ‘hang in there’ much longer. The contractions had subsided but new worries settled in when she realized the baby hadn’t stirred, not even a trace of movement for hours.

  “Please be okay little baby, please,” she whispered.

  The sound of the helicopter honed in, getting louder. Daniella glanced up and caught sight of the rescue worker dropping down into the entrance. He was lowered on a heavy wire connected to his safety vest.

  “You’re going to be okay. Now I want you to take this vest.” He held it out as he tried to steady his body and keep it from swaying. She barely grasped it. There wasn’t an ounce of strength left in her. “You can do this, Daniella. Inhale and exhale slowly several times and then slip your arm through the jacket.”

  Barely lifting her head, she noticed he’d managed to wedge an arm and a leg into the narrow split of the wall, close enough to help her get one arm in. But how would she get the other arm in? She’d have to move her feet, which were completely numb from standing in the same spot for so long.

  “Daniella!” He snapped and brought her out of her misery. “You have to do this! Your husband is up there in frenzy. I promised him I’d get you out safely. You can do this.” He kept pushing her, forcing her to take baby steps until she managed to get the vest on. He latched and secured the belts, and then connected the hooks on the vest to another roped wire, locking them in place. He grasped the loops on each sides of her vest.

  “Grab on to me and hold tight!” he shouted and yanked her toward him. She grabbed on to him and found new strength out of panic as she was ripped out of the hole with the sudden force of the helicopter as it pulled them higher and higher. She closed her eyes, not wanting to see how far down she’d fall if the wires somehow snapped.

  A sudden burst of voices mixed in with the sounds of the propellers. She lifted her head when she felt hands reaching for her. She didn’t move when the rescue team quickly moved in, removed the wire and vest and then hoisted her onto a gurney. She lay limp while they worked on her. She didn’t flinch when they placed an oxygen mask over her nose and mouth, or when they scrubbed her arm and placed an IV there. She struggled to keep her eyes open and fought the urge to give up because there was one face she needed to see.

  A spark of panic set in as the medics lifted the gurney and placed her in the flight-for-life helicopter. Tears trickled down her cheeks when she caught sight of Cruz rushing toward the copter, forcing his way in. His eyes now in direct contact with hers, penetrated deep within her soul, and never wavered.

  He stood next to the gurney looking down at her, and she lost it.

  “You… you came f-for me.” Daniella choked back a sob.

  He fell to his knees and completely lost it. His chest heaved as he leaned over. He slowly dragged his hands along her arms, up her neck, and pulled himself over her, but never pressing his full weight against her.

  “Oh, Daniella. What did they do to you?” He gasped. The look on his face—torn, terrified, guilt, remorse, and love all rolled in one, as he took in her rugged, battered appearance. “I’m sorry. I’m so damn sorry.” He traced her bruised forehead, puffy eye, and then rested his cheek against hers and whispered, “I should have never let you g
o. All of this is my fault.” His chest vibrated and his tears wet her cheek. His tears turned into uncontrollable sobs—his hands continually clutching and releasing her hair—he sobbed so hard he had to gasp to catch his breath.

  Daniella mustered enough strength to wrap her arms around him and lightly squeezed him. “It’s not… your fault. It’s… not.” She cried a little, and a little more when Cruz suddenly pulled the oxygen mask up and captured her whimpers with a deep passionate kiss. It wasn’t just her cries he captured. It was her pain and tears, anguish and loss, alarm and fear, but more than anything, it was the insurmountable love swelling inside of her. And by the way he kissed her, she knew he’d felt it too.

  She clenched his shirt, and didn’t want to let go, but she could feel herself fading. Withdrawing slightly, she mumbled against his lips, “Cruz. Cruz, I love you,” before exhaustion took her under.

  ~~~

  In the pitch of night, Daniella woke with a start. “No, no, no!” she screamed and thrashed to free her unknowingly free arms. “Huh-whew-huh-whew,” she panted, slid off the bed and tumbled to the floor. The I.V. pole and bag attached to it clattered next to her, only startling her further, causing her to scurry into the corner against the wall, where she crumpled, and retreated into a fetal position.

  Cruz rounded the bed, flipped the lights on and rushed to her side. Drawing her into his arms, he caressed and brushed the hair away from her cold, sweaty forehead. “Jesus, Daniella. What the hell did they—you’re safe, baby. Calm down.”

  She grabbed onto him, refusing to let go, and buried her face into the crook between his neck and shoulder. “I need you,” she cried.