by Jade Alters
The crewman looked at me, annoyed. “Can’t it wait? There’s a bathroom onboard the boat.”
“No. I have to go now.”
Disgusted, he threw down the pile of blankets he was holding and untied my feet. “Just hurry up, do you hear? We’ve got to get ahead of a gale.”
He turned me around and searched my hands, then searched my boobs. I held back a grimace of disgust as his hands circled around the nipples, pinching the tips. “Go on then,” he relented, pushing me forward. I went inside the canvas outhouse and pulled the curtain shut.
Squatting on the floor next to the toilet, I pulled out my knife, palming it open. I slid it under my wrists and cut through the ropes. At the back of the toilet, I sliced an L-shaped flap and peeked out. There was nobody in the woods behind the cabin. They were all at the pier, getting ready to move out. I made a long slice, sucked in my breath, and slipped out. I heard a shout and I dropped to the ground, but it wasn’t about me. The captain on deck, or whoever he was, stood at the bow, ordering the men to move more quickly and get the damned girls on board. I slid backwards into the woods, eyes on the camp.
As soon as I was under cover of the trees, I began to run. I didn’t have an escape plan in mind. This was an island and the only way off was by boat, but I felt if I stayed hidden long enough, they would leave, and I could somehow find a way to survive until help came. I found a tall, rugged spruce tree with lower limbs as big around as my leg. I climbed up into the branches, going as close to the top as the tree would bear without bending.
It wasn’t long before I heard them pass by. Only three were searching the brush. The rest were probably guarding the girls. They passed directly under the tree. “We might as well go back. The storm is kicking up. Denisovich wants to get ahead of it.”
“One more pass. If we don’t find her, they’ll take it out of my paycheck.”
“It won’t be that bad. You’ve got, what… six others in the bag? That’s a lot of juicy fruit, my king.”
“One more pass.” They spread out, looped around, and met back under the tree.
They heard the long boat’s whistle. “We’d better go, dude.”
“And the girl?”
“She can’t go anywhere. We’ll burn the place down. Nobody will notice in the rain. We’ll send out a skiff to pick her up when the storm is over. She’ll either be dead by then, or she’ll be dead when we’re through with her.”
Darkhorse
I’d barely rolled my wetsuit around a change of clothing when the bones began cracking and bending along my back and thick folds of muscle and gristle rolled down my frame. A thick, shaggy coat, more insulated than any wetsuit could be, shook itself free as the waves splashed up over me. I began swimming, one powerful paw in front of the other.
I wasn’t sure where the others had touched down. The waves were too high, the sky was too gray. I saw bits of useless life-preservers, far too puny for our bear-shifting forms, and the sinking helicopter, but that was all. They were bears. They would be instinctively swimming for the nearest shore. In fact, it sounded to me like a very good idea.
I could trace the island by the acrid scent of recent smoke and turned in its direction. The storm had eased, but the water was still choppy. I paddled with my head up, my eyes half-closed, my feet following my nose.
I heaved myself up on a driftwood-studded beach, its cliffs carved away by the force of the north winds. I must be getting old. That tailspin had done a number on my equilibrium. I crouched on the beach for a few seconds, waiting for the world to stabilize, then shifted back into a human. I bent over my wetsuit to pull out my clothes when I was whacked from behind. Somebody smacked me on the head with what felt like a hundred pounds of solid steel. I fell forward, vertigo completely overtaking me.
Shaking the stars out of my eyes, I looked up at a long, stout pole held in young, feminine hands. I grabbed my aching noggin, completely forgetting to cover my iniquities. “Fuck! That hurts! What the hell did you do that for?”
A stern female voice answered back, “Who are you?”
I hadn’t looked up, and wasn’t sure I dared. Those feminine hands looked fine and well-shaped, but they also looked like they meant business. “Lieutenant Moses Darkhorse, U.S. Coast Guard,” I said, automatically reaching for my badge before remembering I was wearing no clothes.
The pole raised more threateningly, and I winced. “Please don’t hit me again. I’ve got a splitting headache. You could have knocked me out with that thing.”
“That was the idea.”
I sat down and groaned. “It’s a good thing I’ve got a thick head.” The throbbing pain slowly eased and mixed in a cocktail of unnerving sensations generally associated with being shook, spun, tumbled into freezing water, and shifting into a bear. “Can I put some clothes on?”
“I guess you can.” Her voice was hesitant. “Just don’t try anything stupid.”
I stood up slowly and shook out my wetsuit. She watched, unwavering, never once turning her head or lowering her staff. I was carrying a pair of denims and a naval-issue sweatshirt. “My badge is here,” I said carefully. “In my pants.”
“Pull it out and toss it over to me.”
I brought out my wallet, opened it and tossed it at her feet. She looked down for a split second. “What brought you here?”
I was busy climbing into my pants, so I gave the short version. “Smoke. We saw smoke. We were looking for a shipwrecked fisherman and we saw smoke, so we came over here to check it out.”
“In that helicopter?” She pointed to the wreckage sinking in the distance.
“In that helicopter,” I confirmed sadly.
Her hearing caught a sound just seconds after mine did, which was remarkable for a human. “How many of you are there?” She raised the staff over my head again.
I cringed. “Four. All officers with the Coast Guard, Special Division Ursa.” The sound in the brush was coming closer and the pole wavered intimidatingly. “Whoever is in the brush, please come out,” I called loudly. “I do not want to get whacked on the head again.”
Lee came forward, looking a little sheepish. “I wasn’t sure how to respond, sir. If you needed assistance or if, well, you know…” He waved his finger around in the air as though it meant something.
“Petty Officer Lee Brightwater, I want you to meet…” I looked in her face for the first time, and nearly dropped over again. She had one of those Russian faces, wide across the cheeks, with blonde, waving hair that blended in with the mountainous, coastal landscape. She had acquired the deep blues and greens of the ocean in her eyes, and the blush of wild berries on her lips. I stood at my full height and puffed out my chest, trying to appear more impressive. I’ve never had women complain about my physique before, but when one is beating you to death while you’re naked, it does make you wonder. “I don’t know your name.”
She held the pole in front of her and poked it at my chest. “If you’re Coast Guard, why did you let the whole damned thing get out of hand? Why did you leave it all in the hands of the state troopers and the police who can’t even go beyond their city limits?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You don’t?” She started to whack me again, then threw aside her pole. “Fuck it. You weren’t even told. Did you get a message out before you went down?”
I shook my head. “Maybe we could retrieve the two-way radio. There was one on board for emergencies.”
She scoffed. “How will you do that?”
The helicopter was listing, around three hundred yards out, with the tail tilted toward the water. It was only half-submerged.
“It looks like the skids grounded on some rocks or a sand bar. I could recover it.”
She gave a short chuckle. “I know you guys are Coast Guard and all, but that would be pretty amazing. You can’t even pilot a boat in this storm.”
Now that she realized we weren’t the enemy, that we were as stranded on the island as she was,
she was turning soft, wistful. I smelled the changes like tracking honey to its hive. I wanted just then to crush her hair against my face and breathe her in, but instead growled, “We need to find the other two. Lee, did you see any sign of them?”
He was hovering close by, shuffling his feet and sniffing the air. “No,” he said absently, then came to attention. “I believe I saw them coming in to shore due west of here. I turned this way because I heard voices.”
Due west was over some rocky terrain. Over centuries, the northwestern end had been beaten and slammed by furious Arctic winds and pelting rains. The green brace of forests was claiming it with a struggle. We began picking our way through, and I had to admire the way those nicely shaped hips and that pleasantly round butt slid her weight from one side to another as she climbed up over the rocks. I still didn’t know her name.
We found Roy on a bluff about five hundred yards off some mud flats. He was only half-dressed and appeared disoriented. His head cleared, though, as soon as I called his name. “Ensign Roy Stevenson. At attention.”
He stood up and saluted, his pants sliding below his hips. He pulled them up on one end and continued saluting.
I waved him down. “At ease, ensign. Put your clothes on.”
“Yes, sir,” he said hastily. “Permission to speak freely.”
“Speak away.”
He fumbled with his shirt, twisting it as he slid it halfway into his pants, then pulling it out again to straighten it. “You have a girl with you.”
I grunted. “I’m glad you confirmed what I thought might be a hallucination.”
He looked at me from under a crop of curly, rust-colored hair. “Did she shoot down the chopper?”
“What? No! Of course, she didn’t.” I looked at the girl uncertainly. “You didn’t, did you?”
She rolled her eyes and scoffed. “If I had a high-powered rifle, would I be hitting you with a stick?”
I decided if she could be suspicious of me, I could be suspicious of her. “How did you end up here?” I asked. “Did you burn down the cabin?”
She looked like she was getting ready to take another swing at me. “I didn’t burn down anything. Denisovich’s men did. They’re the ones that shot at you.”
Denisovich again! I was contemplating another question when we heard an earth-shattering roar that frightened a covey of ducks into scattering in all directions. The brush in front of us quaked and a giant bear sprang up from behind it, rearing on its hind legs, pawing at the air.
The girl screamed and threw herself into my arms. “Do something! Kill it! Didn’t you bring a firearm?”
I tried to calm her down in a gentlemanly manner, but dude! All that soft, warm flesh pressed against my chest was causing the wild and wooly hairs to pop out all over. With a low rumble, I told her, “It’s okay. I know that bear. He won’t harm us.”
“He won’t harm us?” Timidly, she turned her head to peak at the bear. He had dropped on all fours, lowered his head, and was backing into the brush.
As much as I hated to do it, I broke away from her and turned her over to Roy and Lee for care and comfort. “I’m just going to talk to the bear, so he doesn’t come back and scare you again,” I said in what I thought was a reassuring voice.
She grabbed my shirt, trying to force me into staying. “You don’t have to play the tough Coast Guard macho man with me. I get it. You can swim among icebergs and rescue baby walruses, but you can’t just walk up and start talking to a wild bear. These things don’t happen.”
I took those sweet hands and set them aside, wanting more than anything to pretend I was just another helpless guy, truly in danger for my life, instead of just going to see the boss man. “Trust me. It will be all right.”
I trusted Lee and Roy more than I did Captain Josh right now. He was pumping high octane. Nothing pissed him off more than losing a good helicopter, unless it was accidentally running into a beautiful dame while in bear form. I’ll bet he’d gotten one whiff of her and went berserk.
His trail wasn’t hard to find. He had lumbered his way through, snapping back every branch and pushing aside every sapling that had gotten in his way. When I found him, he was phasing into his human form. I waited for him to sit back with a sigh and open his wetsuit before confronting him. “What the fuck, Josh? What the hell were you thinking?”
He waved at me as though I was a gnat. “I wasn’t. I wasn’t damned thinking at all. I hadn’t shifted yet and I heard you talking. And I heard the name Denisovich. Who the hell is Denisovich?”
“I don’t know. That’s what I’ve been trying to find out.”
“And that girl.” He slapped at his face repeatedly with his hands. “That girl did something to me. Her smell. It did something to me.”
“We don’t spend enough time in town where there are women.”
Folding his arms over his chest, he grumbled the age-old Alaskan complaint, “There aren’t enough women, even in town.”
“That’s because we don’t spend enough time there. The good ones get taken while we’re gone.”
He pondered my words. “We’ve gotta change that when we get back to the mainland. Find a good woman we can come home to at the end of the day.”
He was coming around. He buckled his belt and slid his hoodie, stamped with the Coast Guard emblem, over his head. “What have we got?”
“Not much to tell you until the girl talks. I think she was abducted.”
We were returning by the same trail Josh had made in his head-long dash, chuckling at the spots where the grass fell over as he’d rolled in it and scrambled to his feet while in bear form. He stopped laughing to give me a sharp glance. “What makes you say that?”
“Rope burns around her wrists. And she was frightened. I don’t think she gets frightened easily.”
The group was just a few minutes away. Roy and Lee were standing at active attention while the girl vocalized her displeasure of their ignorance. She had found another stick, a gnarled piece of driftwood with a bulb at the end, and was beating it against the ground.
“And I told the police chief there was something strange going on. Girls were disappearing, but he told me—” She thumped the stick and stared at Ray as though it was his fault. “He told me they were just going to Anchorage. They always run away to Anchorage. But the girls were scared.”
Roy nodded his agreement, his freckles standing out against his pale skin. “Lee told me the show girls were scared.”
She wheeled and buttonholed poor Lee, who was too wet behind the ears to know what comes after prom night. “And what did you do about it?”
He hunched his lanky shoulders guiltily, his hair falling in his eyes. “I couldn’t do anything. She told me she didn’t trust anybody that worked on the water.”
She saw me coming out of the corner of her eye and spun around. “That’s it,” she said, drawing me into the conversation. “That’s how he works. He uses a clipper to transport his cargo. That’s why the girls are afraid of the Coast Guard.”
“A clipper?” Josh squeezed in between us and interrupted. “Are you sure it’s a clipper?”
She gave him an irritated look. “Yes, it’s a clipper. I’ve lived on the coast all my life. I know a clipper when I see one.”
Josh brooded. “Let’s have a look at the burned-out area. Maybe we can find some clues.”
The girl held back. “What if the shooter is still there?”
He gave her a look she probably didn’t understand—the look of a predator anticipating his prey. “Believe me,” he growled at her. “We’ll see him before he sees us.” He jiggled his hands inside the pocket of his hoodie. “Maybe you should stay here. The rest of us will go out and survey the area.”
Josh hadn’t been exposed yet to her abuses. She turned on him, the bulbous end of her driftwood stick swinging dangerously close to his chest. “The hell I will! You’re still a suspect in my case.”
“Your case? Your case?” he asked with surprise.
I got between them before she had the chance to make Josh see a few stars and butterflies. “Captain Joshua Banks,” I said, emphasizing the title, “may I present our mystery witness, uh…”
“Captain,” she sniffed, as though finally receiving the recognition she deserved. “Natalia Ivanova, state trooper.”
The way she said her name, the ‘a’s rolling together with the consonants like musical notes, caused my every nerve to become energy spikes running up and down my spine. I think I shall never hear a name quite so beautiful as Natalia Ivanova.
It took every bit of self-discipline to keep myself from drooling, with my tongue hanging out. Ensign Stevenson, I noticed, was not so successful. He wiped repeatedly at the side of his mouth.
“Insolent,” whispered Lee, but he wasn’t doing much better. He used the cuff of his shirt, pretending to cough into it.
After his surprise appearance, Captain Josh was working twice as hard at keeping his animal instincts at bay. He shook her hand and returned her formal salute, even though this was going a bit overboard. The state troopers were not a military unit. “You were on assignment?”
She didn’t answer right away. Instead, she chose to start walking toward the burn site. Since it was nearly a mile away, we automatically fell in line beside her as the sensible thing to do. The hike seemed to put her more at ease.
“I was off-duty. The only thing I had on me was a knife in my boot. I was kidnapped, along with five other girls, maybe more. The cabin wasn’t the center of operations, just a transport point. The abduction point was a fake bikers’ club on Three Fords Road. There could be similar operations set up all through the woods.”
“And their ship is a cutter… as in a Coast Guard cutter?”
“It looked like a Coast Guard cutter, Captain, but it was Denisovich at the helm.”
“Who is Denisovich?”
“A mobster. A thug. A mean and nasty man. He made his first millions trafficking Russian girls to U.S. West Coast nightclubs and other establishments of entertainment. They were under his protection, but he basically owned them. He found them their jobs, their pimps, their documentation. In return, they gave him twenty percent of their income and did everything he asked them to do.”