by Pinki Parks
“Chase, we have to get downstairs and get the files. There’s got to be something in them to prove Mason’s innocence.” I had a feeling this was the main purpose of the letter I’d found on Mason’s computer.
“There’s no time for that. The only thing we might have going for us is that he is most likely alone. I can only hope he hasn’t brought reinforcements.” As if in answer, there was the sound of breaking glass downstairs.
“I don’t think you fully understand. I’m terrified. I can’t even imagine what you must’ve gone through during your many tours of duty. I have some questions, but they can wait. I appreciate how you came to my rescue.” We went toward the stairs and then I stopped momentarily to race back to the bathroom.
I found the gun I had left strapped underneath the sink for emergencies. I was always prepared. I never wanted to get caught with my pants down.
The gun was a Beretta with only one clip. It wasn’t going to be enough in a firefight, but it could give me the element of surprise. There was the shotgun over the fireplace. It was my grandfather’s. There was no way to know if it really worked after all this time.
This was no time to go off half-cocked and run around like chickens with their heads cut off. I was assessing the situation. I was finding the best idea was to get into the Jeep and drive away as fast as possible.
There was a flash of what I thought was lightning, but it turned out to be something even worse. I went to the window and pulled back the curtains far enough to see where the flash had originated. I shook my head in disbelief at the flames and black smoke surrounding my jeep. This was getting personal.
“I think somebody doesn’t want us to leave. Do you have any other bright ideas?” Gail was looking for answers and I had none to give her.
I was going to check my phone, but up here in the middle of nowhere reception was practically nothing. I hazard a look and had my hopes dashed with no signal.
“There is the shed out back and there’s enough snow on the ground to utilize the snowmobile. There are many tracks. I know this land better than anyone.” We started toward the stairs when the smell of something burning assaulted my nostrils.
The stairs were on fire leaving little chance of escape. I could see the direct line it had taken from where something was thrown through the window. There was some kind of accelerant feeding the flames. I could make an educated guess and determine it was most likely liquor. It was pretty crude but rather effective in close quarter combat. It was meant to disorient an opponent and give them something else to think about other than the current danger they were already in.
“This is getting ridiculous. Those papers are going to go up in flames and there’s nothing we can do about it. Thankfully, I do have the hard copies securely located on my computer with a code word to access it.” We were the only two who knew the code and this was an easy way to eliminate the threat.
“He could have come in with his guns blazing. This is his way of emotionally affecting me. He’s making it hard for me to think on the fly. I’ve been in difficult positions in the past.” I was trying to make it seem like I knew what I was doing, but underneath I was thinking about the realization of burning alive.
“I don’t want to die.” She had momentarily had a breakdown but surprisingly came back clearheaded and ready to fight.
“Nobody is going to die here today if I have anything to say about it. We need to get some towels and soak them in water. The best place to take cover is in the bathroom. We need some time to get out the window and down onto solid ground.” The flames were spreading over the walls and covering the ceiling.
“Chase, a broken ankle is preferable over burning inside this fire. I would rather face whatever is outside than stay in this deathtrap.” I was having flashbacks of those times I’d spent with my grandfather hunting and fishing during summer break.
I felt her tugging on my arm. She pulled me into the bathroom and slammed the door shut behind us. She went to work dousing the towels and putting them snugly against the bottom of the door. She managed to wedge a few more in the seams to prevent the smoke from getting in and suffocating us.
“I know it’s painful to see what your grandfather built burning to the ground. It can be rebuilt. I’m sure you have insurance to cover this.” We were pinning our hopes on the window leading to our possible safety.
I opened the window and removed the screen letting it fall to the ground aimlessly. There was an explosion of flames from the living room below us. I could feel the heat on my feet. It was a matter of time before the cabin was condemned to a fiery grave. I didn’t want Gail to join it. I made a quick circuit of the area looking for anything to resemble a threat. I couldn’t see the perpetrator of this crime leaving without witnessing his dirty work.
The smoke was trying to bleed itself through the door frame. What Gail had done to keep it at bay was only a temporary solution. I could see the first telltale sign of flames at the door.
“You are going to go first and run as fast as you can for the tree line. Stay there out of sight and don’t move until I get there. I can’t stress this enough. I know you don’t want to hear this, but the person responsible still could be out there lurking in the darkness. There’s no point in taking chances with either of our lives.” I helped her up to the window still searching the area in the darkness for anything which would leave us sitting ducks.
“Don’t drop me.” She was using short sustained sentences to get her point across.
Her feet went out the window first and I was holding her hands with my fingers locked around her wrists. She was dangling a few feet off the ground and there was a pile of wood which was going to make an awkward attempt to keep her balance.
I held my breath and released her. She should have plummeted to the ground below, but she was still clinging with her fingernails driven into my hands. I cringed and winced from the pain, but it was nothing compared to the bullet tearing through my chest to protect her brother.
“You’re going to have to let go.” I glanced behind to see the door in flames and the sound of sizzling when it came in contact with the wet towels.
“I can’t do it. My fingers are locked and I can’t make them let go.” She looked petrified on the verge of tears, but she was refraining from showing that kind of emotional outburst.
“Take a deep breath through your nose and out through your mouth. You need to settle your nerves. This breathing exercise will help you deal with the panic.” I had seen many recruits in stressful situations. I taught them the same thing in a more in-depth way.
“I know I should be able to do this, but I can’t. Forget about what I said about this being preferable than dying in the fire.” I had to literally pull one of my hands free. It was with enough force to have her long and sharpened nail break the surface of the skin of my palm.
I had to pry her other hand away from me one finger at a time. The look of shock and dismay had me feeling guilty for making her let go of her lifeline. She disappeared into the darkness. I could hear her vocal exclamation of pain. I could see a female shape hobbling over to the tree line. Nobody took a potshot at her.
It didn’t mean I wasn’t going to fall victim to a bullet in the back of the head. There was no other choice. The flames were already in the bathroom. I felt like a cornered animal. I lifted myself seamlessly through the window and was barely hanging in midair when I let go. I heard the bullet and felt it graze my cheek.
I landed on the woodpile trying my best to balance myself before jumping to the ground. Another bullet with my name on it splintered a piece of wood where I had been standing. I was well aware of the sniper quickly reloading and firing another round.
I turned and fired the gun I had taken from my waistband. I couldn’t see where the shots were coming from. This gave me a way to defend myself. I was putting myself in the shooter’s shoes and extrapolating his location by personal experience.
I was running backward with
the recoil of the revolver knocking me off my feet. I was down on the ground staying near the center of gravity crawling on my hands and knees. My clothes were dark enough to leave him without a line of sight. This was all contingent on whether or not he was using night vision goggles. The smoke billowing from the open windows in the cabin was hopefully distorting my image.
There was no way to move fast enough without alerting the shooter to where I was. I had to use a modicum of patience. Moving a couple of inches at a time was necessary to inhibit his ability to see me out of his peripheral vision.
Chapter Thirteen
Gail
I was aghast and was literally trembling with fear running through my veins. I wanted to help him, but it would mean coming out of hiding. I attempted to take a few steps forward, but I couldn’t go much further than that.
“You can do it. I know you can.” I was whispering hoping it was loud enough to give him the encouragement needed to make it safely into my arms.
The sound of the fire crackling within the enclosure was disturbing on many levels. I felt bad for him. He was seeing his home go up in smoke. I couldn’t imagine walking a few moments in his shoes. It would have crippled me to see my belongings destroyed with a single lit match. It was a waste and a crime to watch this miscarriage of justice take place in front of my eyes.
He was motioning me with his hand to stay back and not to come any closer than necessary. Mother Nature with the snow and the wind was blanketing the area in black smoke. The wind direction was perfect to hide his progress from the unseen enemy. Chase was getting closer, but it felt like forever.
“I don’t know what is taking you so long.” I couldn’t know what was going on in his head and I really didn’t have any leg to stand on to argue.
He was quite insistent and his expression was that of grave concern for my safety. The house and the jeep burning uncontrollably with the smell of burnt rubber sickening me were hard to ignore. I had to cover my nose with the sleeve of my shirt. It wasn’t easy to stop myself from choking, but necessary to thwart and frustrate the man with the gun.
Chase’s gun was discarded and was very little use without any ammunition. He tried to reach back for it lying covered with a layer of snow but was unable to grip it with his cold fingers.
He was within my reach and I grabbed him and hauled him to his feet. He fell on top of me with the snow covering the both of us. There was a long and forgotten story in his eyes emblazoned by the flicker of the flames a few feet away. He was reliving his childhood.
“It’s going to burn to the ground. The snow and this inclement weather will keep it from spreading to the trees. Nobody is going to come unless I specifically call them to do so. The fire department is several miles away. The storm is ruling out any possibility of them seeing the smoke swelling into the sky.” We used the canvas of the trees to impede the shooters ability to get a bead on us.
“I know it has profound sentimental value for you. But let’s not forget what is waiting for us if we stay here a moment longer. This person was not content in shooting us. They went the extra mile in setting the house ablaze. We had no choice but to raise our head from inside long enough for him to get a shot off.” I found myself following in his footsteps with the snow hindering anybody’s idea of tracking us.
The snow was picking up and the wind was swirling it around in the air to make visibility almost nothing. I wasn’t wearing boots and neither was he. The lock on the shed was the variety where a combination was used instead of a key. He was able to disengage it and get inside without us being seen. The wood structure had snow plastered to the front.
There was another door at the back of the shed. He easily opened it by sliding the bolt. He was able to open both doors leading to what I could only assume was a path covered in the snow.
“I’m through playing the nice guy. Everything I owned is nothing more than a memory. I can no longer take this assailant lightly.” The keys to the snowmobile were in the ignition. I wrapped my arms around his midsection and held on for dear life.
“I would ask where we are going, but I think anyplace is better than here.” We both knew when the engine came to life the shooter would know where we were. It might take him a few moments to gather his wits, but it was inevitable for him to find his mark.
“There’s an abandoned ranger station a few miles away. We can take refuge there. I will be able to see for miles in either direction.” The engine came to life and he pulled back on the throttle making the snowmobile lurch into the snow with the tracks finding traction.
I heard a gunshot, but his aim was pretty much a shot in the dark. He was hoping to get lucky. This person was desperate and quite deadly with a firearm. We moved through the snow seamlessly like a knife through butter. Somehow, Chase was able to navigate the perilous journey without crashing into a tree or upending the contraption with us on it.
The snow was letting up and there was a break in the clouds above us. The moon made its appearance winking into focus through what was left of the storm passing by quickly. We were far enough away that the snowmobile tracks wouldn’t be noticeable. It wasn’t an express route. Chase had to stop a couple of times to get his bearings. He looked a little confused, but then he found some landmarks to guide him the rest of the way.
“Do you think the radio works at the ranger station? We could call in our location and have them extract us at their earliest convenience. The sky is clearing and a helicopter approach would be perfect.” I knew enough about the military to know some of the terms courtesy of my brother’s late-night telephone calls.
“Your brother taught you a lot about our way of life. He used to say that you would have made a great interrogator. He said you had this innate ability to know when somebody was lying to you.” We narrowly missed a boulder and the machine clipped the side of it taking off some paint.
We both breathed a sigh of relief. I had my hand up to my chest where my heart was about to jump out of my mouth. It wasn’t the only close call. There was a very thin margin between the path and a plummet into a deep and deadly ravine. He maneuvered the machine like it was an extension of his body.
“I think that particular gift isn’t working. You have been a very hard man to read. It’s like we are speaking different languages.” We continued on a forward momentum pushing through the snow until he stopped and turned off the machine.
“We’re going to have to go the rest of the way on foot. I don’t want to take the chance of this person finding us. It’s about a mile north of here. This is scary, but you are holding up well. You don’t look like you weigh anything more than what I can handle. Wrap your legs around my waist and put your hands around my neck.” He wasn’t saying it, but he was giving me the impression I was slowing him down.
I was happy to have the reprieve of not dealing with the possibility of frostbite to my feet. He was hardened physically like steel. I was a little faint from the adrenaline rush wearing off. It was comforting to put my head on his shoulder while he was trudging through the snow with me as extra weight.
The cold through my clothes was making me shiver, but his body heat was helping to elevate my temperature in more ways than one.
“You should have told me about your connection to my brother Colby. I can’t believe that you are Preacher. I commend you for your duty and the way you constantly put yourself in danger to protect my brother’s life.” Colby had told me some stories and was probably the reason why I found my first gray hair.
“I didn’t know you were his sister until fairly recently. I was trying to tell you when I came over and found you with the older man. I know it was perfectly innocent, but my green streak of jealousy got the best of me. I was determined to show you a real man.” He had made me feel like a hit and run victim on the side of the road.
“I don’t know how to forgive you for being with me knowing it was the anniversary of Colby’s death. I guess, we found comfort in the grief of losing hi
m by being with each other. Your ring was the other reason I didn’t want to go further.” I was bringing up something he had told me was off limits.
“My wife was the most understanding woman I have ever met. She was the light of my life and made me feel like I could be a better man. I was even contemplating leaving this line of work. She knew what I did for a living made me happy. I knew she worried every time I went out the door. It killed me more than I could ever say to her.” He was using the past tense to describe her. I was getting the idea his wife was no longer in the picture.
“I assumed because of the wedding ring on your finger it was the reason why we couldn’t be together. I’m sorry for your loss. Losing her and Colby in recent years must have left you a little disillusioned.” I saw in the distance a huge wooden structure and there was no doubt in my mind it was the ranger station.
“It’s been nearly two years of hell. I lost my wife over a year ago and a year after my best friend died in my arms. She was the innocent victim of a holdup at a local convenience store. They tell me she didn’t suffer, but I can’t know that for sure.” Being with me was the first time he had allowed himself to feel anything more than a fleeting chance to get into a woman’s panties.
“You must know she would want you to be happy. This overwhelming pain you feel from her loss is normal. I hate to say this, but the wedding ring is holding you back from moving forward with your life. It’s a symbol of your fidelity and the love you shared with her.” I knew there was no way I could take her place in his heart, but I believed there was room for me.
“She would be the first one to tell me to snap out of it. Cheryl made me want the white picket fence. We didn’t have the chance to have children. We talked about it often, but life got in the way.” There was a huge ladder leading to the ranger station in the sky.
The wooden rungs were rickety and I heard them creaking while climbing the apparatus. He was right behind me but was avoiding placing extra weight on the rungs. The wind was buffeting me and I had to stop with the freezing cold numbing my bare fingers. His hand on my back gave me the courage to continue. I knew looking down was going to give me an acute case of vertigo.