“Why didn’t you tell me she was awake?”
Wyatt jerked his hand away from hers. It was the monster. She recognized him as the other hunter they’d met on the trail near Echo Lake. He was larger than Wyatt. More powerful, with a full beard and craggy features. His gaze gleamed with cold relish, something the boy lacked. This man-horse was in his element, doing exactly what he wanted. He inhabited this space with confidence.
“She threw up,” the boy said.
“Take off her clothes.”
Terror coursed through Brooke, cold and bright. Of course this was the reason she’d been brought here. It was the same reason any girl got taken and tied up against her will. She would be raped and murdered, like the other victims. The ones who’d tried to claw their way out of this grave with their fingernails.
She turned to Wyatt in a silent plea. He wasn’t a monster. Or maybe he was a skinnier, less-experienced monster.
Would he help her?
The older man spoke again. “I said, take off her clothes.”
Wyatt moved his gaze from Brooke. “No.”
“No?”
“I want this one.”
The monster clenched his hand into a dirty fist. “You what?”
“I want her for myself.”
The monster looked back and forth between them, incredulous. Clearly they worked as a team, but Wyatt must not have asserted himself this way before. “I wouldn’t have gone to all this trouble to bring you a little friend.”
“You can get another woman. The older one.”
Wyatt meant her mother. Brooke’s heart twisted at the thought.
“This one’s mine,” he insisted. “I like her.”
“You don’t know what to do with her.”
“Yes, I do.”
“Show me.”
“No,” Brooke said, squeezing her eyes shut. She didn’t want to belong to either of them. Intuition told her Wyatt would be kinder and easier to escape from. But she couldn’t just lie here while he violated her. “Please, don’t.”
“See? You’re not ready to break her.”
“I can do it,” Wyatt said, glowering at him. “She’s young. I can let her get used to me. Then maybe she won’t run away, like the others.”
The monster grasped her bare foot. His fingernails were ragged, with dark crescents of dirt beneath them. “The last one ran away because you got lazy with her shackles. Do you remember what happened to her?”
Wyatt paled. “Yes.”
“You won’t make that mistake again, will you?”
“No, sir,” he said, bowing his head.
“If you want her, you can have her after I’m done. Now move aside.”
Brooke’s stomach lurched at his words. She panicked, trying to kick her legs and jerk her wrists free of the bindings. When the man tightened his grip on her foot and gave it a hard yank, she screamed out loud.
“Where’s her boot?” the monster asked.
“It fell off at the campsite.”
He backhanded the boy across the face. Wyatt went sprawling. Brooke gasped in dismay. She’d seen fights after school, and the not-so-playful scuffle between Nathan and Leo. But she’d never witnessed this kind of abuse.
“She was wearing one the whole way here,” the man said.
Blood dribbled from Wyatt’s lip. He cowered in the corner. “I didn’t notice.”
That was a lie. Brooke remembered someone removing her boot and telling her to hush. Wyatt must have done it. She didn’t know why this was important, but she kept her mouth shut, trusting her instincts. Shh.
“I’ll go look for it,” Wyatt said.
Brooke shuddered at the thought of being left alone with the older man.
“No,” the monster said, after a pause. “I’ll go. You stay here and guard the hatch.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And don’t you dare untie her—or you’ll both end up in the pit.”
* * *
BY MIDDAY, THE TRAIL had gone cold.
Abby scoured the forest for wool threads. Leo studied the map as if “villain’s lair” might be marked with an X. They backtracked and changed routes. Nathan wanted to continue to the off-highway vehicle area in hopes of finding some bikers with cell phones. Leo said they were at least five miles from that location. Nathan glanced at the map and disagreed. The two of them argued in urgent whispers that set her nerves on edge.
Abby was hanging on to sanity by a thread. She’d been this way for several days after the San Diego earthquake. Hope that Brooke was still alive kept her going, then and now. She couldn’t rest until she knew where her daughter was. She wouldn’t stop looking.
She would not quit. Ever.
“We need to get to higher ground and study the land formations to orient ourselves,” Nathan said.
Abby seconded this idea. They climbed the nearest hill and looked around. Leo didn’t believe that Nathan knew where the hell they were, but they reached a truce nevertheless. The tree-lined ravine in the distance indicated Silver Creek, which flowed east. According to the map, the creek skirted the edge of the old forest service road, which led south, to the off-highway vehicle area. If they traveled east along the creek, they should find something resembling a dirt road within miles.
As plans went, it was sketchy, but she wanted to keep moving. She couldn’t stop to think. She’d fall apart.
Abby trudged down the other side of the hill towards a copse of trees. She’d only taken a few steps when a hint of red caught her attention. She gripped Nathan’s wrist, unable to speak. Brooke’s brown hiking boot was lying at the base of a short cliff, less than a hundred feet away. The red laces were untied, dangling loose.
He followed her gaze to the boot. A muscle in his jaw flexed. He signaled Leo with a curt gesture and they ducked into the trees. Abby crouched down in the leaves beside Nathan. Her heart was pounding in her ears, her mouth dry. She wondered if Nathan’s suspicions were right. Perhaps they had been lured into a trap.
The boot appeared perfectly placed, like a flag on a putting green. There was also something odd about the area. It resembled the rest of the Monarch wilderness, with boulders and foliage and pine trees. The cliff was more of an escarpment, a rift between two levels of earth that rose about twenty feet high.
“If anyone was going to ambush us, they’d be waiting right here,” Nathan murmured.
“Then we’re safe to proceed,” Leo said.
“I don’t know how her boot ended up at the base of that cliff. The dirt is rocky and the ground is uneven. It’s not a natural footpath.”
“Maybe it fell from the top.”
“Maybe.”
“Let’s check it out,” Leo said.
“I’ll check it out,” Nathan said. “You two stay here.”
When Leo opened his mouth to protest, Abby elbowed him to shut up. As long as they kept moving and making choices, she could hold her emotions at bay. Too much discussion and strife would wear down her defenses. “Good idea.”
Leo and Abby kept watch while Nathan crept forward. Abby studied the woods for movement, though she wanted to see what Nathan was doing. When he disappeared from her peripheral vision, she felt lost.
He returned a moment later, his face tense. “We have to go.”
“Why?”
“There’s a door in the escarpment,” he said. “A fucking door, hidden inside a crevice. It’s covered in clay or some kind of material that matches the dirt.”
“Let’s break in,” Abby said.
“They’re waiting on the other side, armed and ready to kill us,” he hissed. “That’s the only reason they aren’t out here.”
“So you want to just leave, after coming this far?”
“I thought we’d find t
hem in a camp or someplace open. This is a fortress. Our chances of getting in and out alive are minimal.” He paused to let that sink in. “We need help, Abby. We can lead the authorities straight to her.”
Abby stared at her daughter’s boot, remembering the long hours after the quake. The aftershocks. The agonizing walk to the football stadium, which had acted as an evacuation center. The hours spent sitting on the floor of an overcrowded east-county hospital. Sleepless nights and endless days. Piles of dead bodies.
“I’m not leaving,” she said.
“If we don’t go now, we won’t get to go. We’ll all die. Brooke, too.”
“I’m not leaving,” she repeated.
“Me, neither,” Leo said.
Veins formed in Nathan’s flushed neck. “Motherfucker,” he said through clenched teeth. “I knew you two would do this.”
“She’s getting raped in there, Dad,” Leo said quietly.
“You think I don’t know that?” Nathan whispered, rage in his eyes. “You think I don’t care?”
Abby understood why he was angry. Her insistence on staying put Leo’s safety at risk. She’d be dismayed if their situations were reversed, and Brooke wanted to rescue Leo. But the only thing that mattered to Abby right now was saving Brooke. Leo was an adult who could make his own decisions.
“I’m going in after her,” Abby said.
Leo bumped his knuckles against hers again, showing solidarity.
Nathan looked as if he wanted to throttle them both. She thought his head was going to explode. Finally, he took the knife out of his pocket and stood. “Bring your fucking spear, hero. We have to case the perimeter first.”
Abby rose with them, her heart racing.
Nathan stopped her with a blistering glare. “You can keep watch. We’ll be right back.”
“What should I do if I see someone?”
“Run.”
After issuing that curt dismissal, he walked away with Leo. She studied the swaying grass on the hillside, her heart in her throat. Anxiety coiled inside her like a spring. Although she wasn’t a religious woman, she prayed for her daughter with fervent desperation.
When Nathan and Leo reappeared, Abby almost wilted with relief. Nathan gestured for her to follow him through the copse of trees. “I think there’s another door at the top of the cliff,” he said, pointing in that direction. “You stay here and guard the exits. If Brooke comes out, don’t wait for us. Just run as fast as you can.”
“Where?”
“To the creek. It will lead you to the forest service road.”
Abby didn’t like it. “I’d rather go in with you.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“What do you think we’re going to do in there, ask nicely for Brooke to be released? Have tea and discuss our options?”
Abby’s palm itched to slap his face. She crossed her arms over her chest, smothering the urge to respond with a violent outburst. “She’s my daughter. I should take the greater risk.”
“We have to overpower them, and Leo is stronger than you are.”
“I don’t want him to get hurt.”
“Neither do I,” he said coldly. “But here we are.”
“Leo can keep watch.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Do what I fucking said or we’re leaving.”
Abby looked to Leo for help and found none. He stood by his father for once. She had no choice but to nod her assent.
Taking a deep breath, she ducked behind a tree. From there, she could see the side of the escarpment and its grassy plateau. As Nathan and Leo approached the door, her fear skyrocketed. He’d never forgive her if this plan went terribly wrong. The tenuous connection they’d made over the past few days had just snapped, unable to bear the strain of the horrific circumstances.
She waited, knees trembling, for all hell to break loose.
* * *
AFTER HIS FATHER LEFT, Wyatt got up and wiped his chin with the same washcloth he’d used on Brooke.
He didn’t seem shaken by the abuse. This was the way he expected to be treated. There was a slamming sound and movement overhead, as if the monster had ventured aboveground. Dirt rained from the ceiling of the bunker, which had been reinforced with log beams. It settled in her hair and tickled her nose.
Blinking the grit from her eyes, she examined Wyatt’s homely face. He was in that awkward stage between man and boy. One day he might grow into his big ears and shaggy brow. Would he also develop into a psychopath? She couldn’t count on him to free her. He hadn’t lobbied for her release or fought back when challenged. If he had his way, she’d be his captive. But still, a captive.
“Are you all right?” she asked.
“I’m fine.”
“That looked like it hurt.”
He returned to the crate beside her. His gaze met hers for a moment before he flushed and glanced away.
“I don’t like my dad,” she said, trying to appeal to him.
“Does he hit you?”
“No. He ignores me.”
“I wouldn’t ignore you.”
“Untie me,” she whispered. “Please.”
He studied the bloodstained rag, making no move to help her.
She tried again. “You don’t have to stay here with him. We can leave together. I’ll help you run away.”
Wyatt didn’t look at her. “He hunts down runaways.”
“And brings them back?”
“No.”
Brooke grimaced at the thought, fighting another wave of nausea. She didn’t see a way out of this predicament. She felt weak and sick. Even if she could loosen her bindings, she couldn’t run or fight until the drugs wore off.
She might die in this room after a prolonged torture session, perhaps years of captivity. The possibility loomed before her, nightmarish.
Wyatt watched her in silence. She got the impression that he was waiting for something. As if he was counting on her to be his salvation, instead of the other way around. They were both helpless, trapped here together, and she couldn’t think of a solution. Her brain was sluggish. Whatever drug they’d given her was strong and long-lasting. She could only stay alert for a few moments at a time.
“You took off the boot,” she murmured, drowsy.
He squeezed her hand in warning. “Shh.”
When the footsteps returned, Wyatt broke the contact. Their captor burst into the room, carrying two guns. She guessed that one was a shotgun because it had twin barrels. The other might be a rifle. “They’re outside.”
“Who?” Wyatt asked.
“Her family. I can’t believe they found us.”
Brooke let out a whimper of distress. No. Please God, no. Not a shoot-out. She could live through another earthquake. She’d dodge cartoon creatures and floating heads. This was too real, too violent. If her mom tried to get in, they’d kill her or capture her. “Don’t hurt my mom,” she begged Wyatt.
“They’re in the tunnel,” the man said, handing Wyatt the shotgun. “Take this and get down there.”
He accepted the shotgun with reluctance. “I can’t.”
“You can’t what?”
“Shoot people.”
“You can and you will,” the older man said. “Just fire a warning round to send them running the other direction. Your birdshot won’t kill them.”
“What if they’re armed?”
The older man turned to Brooke. “Does your dad have a gun?”
“He’s not my dad.”
“Answer the question.”
She hesitated, uncertain. Nathan didn’t have a gun, and lying about it might put them in more danger. “I—I don’t know.”
“Is he a tracker?”
“A what?”
&nb
sp; “Does he hunt?”
Brooke wasn’t sure how to respond. She had no idea.
“They’re tree huggers,” the man said to his son. “No balls and no weapons. They’ll run as soon as you fire at them.”
Wyatt glanced at Brooke. His hands trembled as he held the barrel of the shotgun in a white-knuckled grip.
The monster pointed the rifle at her, but spoke to Wyatt. “Don’t forget what happens when you disappoint me, boy. Maybe you need three more days in the pit with your new girlfriend, after I put a bullet in her pretty little head.”
“No,” Wyatt said. “Please.”
“Get down there!”
The man opened a hatch in the floor that she hadn’t seen before. While Wyatt descended into a dark space, his father stood in the doorway, rifle trained on Brooke. She stared back at him, terrorized into silence. He had crease lines in his forehead and stains on his shirt. His fatigue pants were torn. Threads of silver snaked through his unruly beard and mustache.
Although she wanted to spit in his face, she looked away, trembling. She couldn’t even scream to warn her mother. He was large and filthy and probably insane. She supposed he had a mental illness, but she felt no sympathy, only fear. Wyatt had a sense of decency she could appeal to. There was a caring person behind those stark eyes and odd features. In the older man, there was nothing. No humanity.
Following his orders, Wyatt opened fire.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
THEY CREPT TOWARD the hidden door, side by side.
Leo’s heart hammered against his ribs with every step. He’d never been so afraid—or so pumped up with adrenaline—in his entire life. The thought of Brooke being terrorized by two psychos made him crazy. He wanted to tear those guys apart with his bare hands, to pop out eyeballs and rip off arms. He’d chew through their fucking necks.
Even through the haze of bravado and bloodlust, he understood why his dad had lobbied to play it safe. This was a scary situation, and it could end badly. Leo was worried about their chances for survival. The odds were stacked against them. Their opponents might be armed with a crossbow and an arsenal of other weapons. Leo had only a hastily made fishing spear, his dad a hunting knife.
Backwoods Page 15