by Dana Marton
He stayed down and waited, shot every time he saw anything move. He couldn’t win, he knew that. Even if each of his shots found its aim, which was impossible in the darkness, there were more men than he had bullets.
He crawled toward the ravine, having one goal only—to lead them away from Kaye. He didn’t bother to stay quiet. He wanted them to hear him, wanted them to follow instead of searching the surrounding area.
The side of the ravine was steep, but not impossible. He grabbed for roots, tested them before putting his weight on any, avoided rocks that would roll easily. Gunfire came intermittently from above. He ducked when he had to, then moved on. For a while the men seemed to hesitate about whether or not to follow him down. Dirt and gravel rolled onto his head when the first few began their descent.
His life was not as much a question of skill as luck. He had no cover, and the men above them had plenty of bullets. His only saving grace was that the moon had slipped into hiding again, giving him at least a chance. He lowered himself, hand over hand, searching for a foothold in crevices that were slick from moss.
Then his luck ran out and pain seared through his shoulder. A bullet. He cursed as his grip loosened on the sturdy vine he used for support. Soil crumbled beneath him, leaf mold making it hard for his feet to find purchase again. And then he was going down, down, down.
Keep up the head. He made an effort to do that. Getting knocked unconscious on a stone now would be really bad. Sharp gravel tore his clothes and skin, his body getting banged against deadwood and small boulders, but with his right arm useless, he couldn’t grab on to slow his descent.
An eternity passed before he reached bottom. The bullets were still coming from above, but he couldn’t run. He was too beat up even to stand.
Chapter Seven
Kaye lay on her stomach in the bushes and listened to the sound of the guns, praying that none of the bullets found Danny. She couldn’t move, not because of her injury—the wound had opened up again but wasn’t bleeding too badly—but because two men from one of the groups had stayed behind and were now sharing a smoke not ten feet from her.
And as long as they were there, she couldn’t look around for the phone she’d dropped when they first came in her direction, nearly walking over her. She’d slipped to a safe distance quietly, but wouldn’t go farther than that without the phone. Until the men left, she had nothing to do but wait.
“Who the hell was that?” one of the men asked, kicking at some dead branches.
“Who knows.”
“You think he’s from the government?”
“They wouldn’t send just one. Probably some wacko runnin’ through the woods.”
“Could be some hunter. Got scared, started shooting, we shot back.”
“It ain’t huntin’ season,” the second man said, closer to her now.
She held her breath. Why was he coming over?
“So what?” His buddy was still kicking up old leaves from the ground. “Who the hell cares about hunting season around these parts anyway?”
She heard a zipper going down. Close by.
“Where are you going?”
“Damn home-made beer runs right through ya.”
He was standing by the tree next to her, close enough not only to hear him splash but to smell him. She stayed still, didn’t take a full breath until she heard the zipper again then the sound of his footsteps as he walked away.
He stopped. “What the hell is this?”
Kaye froze. Had he seen her?
“Somebody’s phone,” he said after a moment.
“Pete said he was missing his. What the hell is it doing here?” The other man came closer. “I’m going back to eat something. They won’t be coming up this way. Easier up at Black Bear Pass.”
She barely breathed until they moved out of hearing distance. Then she sat up and felt the shirt on her side, caked with old blood, wet with new. The men had taken her phone. She was alone in the middle of the woods, injured. And Danny…
The guns had gone silent at the bottom of the ravine. Had they killed him? No, she couldn’t think like that, wouldn’t until she knew for sure. Pain squeezed her chest.
She had two choices: wait until dawn and see if she could spot Danny on the bottom of the ravine, or follow the men to camp and get the cell phone back somehow. Either that or another phone could bring help. There was no way she could make it out of the woods on her own.
She decided to move on instead of waiting. If those men had left Danny in the ravine, they didn’t leave him alive. If he still lived, they would take him back to the compound with them.
Her side hurt enough to bring tears to her eyes. She blinked them back, told herself she was crying from the pain. She couldn’t be crying for Danny. Not until she knew for sure.
The men were talking ahead of her, taking their time. She pressed a hand to her side and followed the sound of their voices. She was careful not to trip, not to make any noise at all.
By the time they reached the compound, she was dizzy with pain. Sneaking anywhere, climbing through any windows, was out of the question. She stayed in the woods, out of sight and waited.
After a while, a slow rain began to fall, not much, just enough to chill her. She burrowed against a fallen log and covered herself with leaves.
She must have dozed because she woke to the dog barking as the men returned. They stepped from the woods into the morning light one by one. They had Danny with them. Her heart lurched.
Four men carried him, his limbs hanging listlessly, his face covered with blood. His clothes were torn beyond recognition, exposing raw flesh. She had to look down, away from the sight.
He was dead.
Her heart stopped. Tears flushed her eyes, cold pain spreading in her tightening chest.
Sweet Lord, what had they done to him?
She glanced up at the sound of shouting, saw more men run from the barracks, watched as they tossed Danny into a small wooden hut. What were they going to do with his body?
After a while, the men settled down around the fires. Somebody started breakfast. There were few jokes and little merriment despite their apparent success.
And as she looked from one to the next, she realized why. A number of them were almost as beat up as Danny, a couple nursing bullet wounds. She wondered how many were missing. Danny wouldn’t have allowed himself to be taken easily.
She slunk to the right and limped around the buildings, counted them out to find the right one. She still had Pete’s phone, which was under the bed that had hidden her earlier, but she couldn’t make her move for it until she gathered a little strength—maybe when the men went to sleep. Until then, at least, she wanted to stay close to what was left of Danny.
“Can’t get two hours of sleep together in this place, damn it.” Someone was grumbling inside one of the huts. “Now I gotta go back out again or I’ll be late for work.” He swore long and hard. “How the hell am I supposed to explain this face to the line boss? He’ll think I’ve been out drinking and fighting. He’s been on my ass as it is.”
Kaye moved on and after a while could no longer hear the guy. She found the back of the hut she’d been looking for and peeked through the slats in the wood. All of the buildings were like that, badly made with plenty of gaps. She could make out Danny’s dark bulk on the ground for a while before tears flooded her eyes again and she could no longer see.
A hodgepodge of pictures flashed through her mind. When they’d first met, when he’d saved her up in her attic, when he had tried to kiss her and she’d pushed him away. She wished now that she hadn’t done that. She’d pushed him away for what? For pride? For false modesty? For some misguided notion that she owed it to her image? Her career?
And now he was dead, had given his life for her.
She pulled up her knees and rested her forehead on them. Her body hurt all over, inside and out. She wanted to stay there as she was, give up, let them find her. But some well of stubbornness inside, maybe somet
hing she’d inherited from her grandfather, wouldn’t let her quit.
She would get out, no matter what she had to do. She would get out and bring these people to justice.
A small sound made her look up. Her muscles stiffened as she listened. Was anyone coming? She glanced around, toward the bushes just a few feet ahead of her, came up into a crouch, ready to move.
The sound came again, a small groan from behind her—from the hut.
She pressed against the wall, desperate to see.
“Danny?”
No response.
Was his chest moving? She stared without blinking, but couldn’t tell. His finger. His finger looked like it might have twitched for a second.
Could he be still alive?
The possibility loosened some of the tightness in her heart, adrenaline kicking its way through the rest of her body.
He groaned. A definite sound. Coming from him.
“Danny?” She shoved her fingers between the boards, ignoring the splinters. “I’m right here.”
His body shuddered as he rolled onto his back, then looked at her—or tried. His eyes were just about swollen shut.
He said something, but she couldn’t understand him. He said it again. “Go.”
Before she could protest, the door banged open. She snatched her hand back. The two men who entered didn’t look friendly.
The taller of the two started out by kicking Danny in the side. “Who do you work for?”
Danny didn’t respond.
The man kicked him harder. “Did you have anybody with you?”
The other guy hauled him up from the ground and held him while his buddy punched him in the stomach. And when he still wouldn’t talk, the man did it over and over again.
They were going to finish him off—beat him to death.
She needed a weapon. She glanced around and found nothing but small sticks. Maybe something in camp.
Stones and branches cut into her skin as she crawled on her stomach. About twenty men sat around the campfires, some tending their injuries.
She glanced at the nearest window. If she were to get inside one of the buildings it would have to be through the back. But not this cabin. Voices filtered from inside.
She moved back into the bushes and went around, keeping an eye on the men and the dog that was busy begging for scraps. As long as the dog didn’t notice her, she was all right.
A small shovel leaned against the oak at the edge of the clearing. Would that help? Had to be better than nothing, although not nearly as good as a rifle would have been. Watch the ground. Don’t step on a branch. Keep low.
She moved little by little until she was directly behind the tree. The only thing left to do was to reach out and grab the shovel. She waited and watched. How quickly could she grab something that was out in plain sight? What if somebody saw her?
Danny would die if she didn’t help him.
Somebody swore loudly in the cabin where he was being held, then the sounds of beating resumed. A couple of people laughed around the fires, their attention momentarily diverted.
Kaye grabbed the shovel and pulled it behind the tree, then waited motionless.
Nobody raised the alarm.
She took a long breath and moved back further, into the woods. The going was slow and painful. She was careful not to disturb any bush, not to make any noise. The cabin was quiet when she got back to it.
She refused to think, simply acted. If she thought at all, she would have had to consider that the silence meant she was too late, and she couldn’t accept that. She moved up to the boards inch by inch, looked through the gap.
There were two bodies on the floor, a man bent over them, collecting weapons. He moved as if he were broken. But she knew those wide shoulders. The muscles in her shoulders that had been drawn so tight they hurt, finally relaxed a little.
Danny.
“I’m here.” Her whisper stopped him as he headed for the door.
He came to her and knelt on the ground, brushed his fingers over hers through the gap. “You shouldn’t have come back.”
She held up the shovel with her other hand. “I got this.”
She couldn’t tell for sure in the dark of the hut and with his face all messed up, but he might have grinned. “You were going to dig me out?” He kicked at the dirt floor, apparently considering.
“I would have done whatever I could.” She hadn’t gotten as far as actually making a plan. She’d taken the first tool/weapon she could find and rushed back to him.
“It could work,” he said and thought for a moment. “Since you’re still here, I probably shouldn’t just go out there and start a war.” He put the guns down. “Wedge the shovel between the boards like this.”
She did as he showed her. The dried-out board gave with a quiet pop. Enough room opened up for her to pass the shovel to him and he did the rest. Once four of the boards were pushed aside, he had enough room to squeeze out sideways.
He gave her a handgun and kept the rifle. “Let’s go.”
She followed him into the woods, toward safety as dawn began to light up the sky. They made it. They’d gotten away. Danny was alive. She kept focused on those thoughts instead of on her side that hurt with every step. She pressed her hand to the wound and kept pace with him, step after step. Him carrying her was out of the question now; he could barely carry himself.
They were pitifully slow—both of their bodies damaged. Still, they walked a good hour before he allowed them a break.
“We can afford a few minutes.” He looked her over carefully, touching her with so much tenderness, it made her throat ache. “How are you holding up?” he asked with his head cocked and those incredible eyes watching her face through swollen lids.
His skin had split over one eyebrow, both of his cheekbones and his chin. His nose was swollen and starting to turn dark. She rubbed away the tear that rolled down her cheek.
“Are you hurting a lot?” His hands—knuckles busted—came to her shoulders.
She shook her head. “What have they done to you? You were so beautiful,” she said through more tears, her emotions taking over now that they were relatively safe, making her babble.
He gave a strangled laugh that made his split lip bleed. “You thought so, huh? Good to know.”
He was either trying to wink or give her a cocky leer, she couldn’t tell which since his face wasn’t working right.
“What else? Did you think about me a lot?”
She laughed, almost giddy all of a sudden. They were finally away from camp and still alive. Near death sure put all her other worries in perspective. She wiped her tears. “Not much, really.”
“Uh-hum.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake. That’s the trouble with handsome young guys. There’s just no end to their conceit.” She rolled her eyes dramatically as she limped away.
“Hey, who are you calling handsome?” He came after her.
It wasn’t funny. Really. Not with his face beaten as badly as it was, but the way he said it made her smile again. And then she turned too fast, which brought on a flash of pain. She touched her hand to her side.
He was all serious the next second. “Are you in pain?”
“Not as much as you are. At least I had a little time to heal.”
“Don’t worry about me. I’ve been worse.”
“Than what? Resurrected?” The only way she could picture him worse would have been if he was dead.
His swollen lips twitched.
He needed medical help. So did she.
“What’s this?” She stared at the spot of fresh blood on his shoulder.
“Got nicked. Flesh wound.” He shrugged it off.
“I want to put something on it before we go.”
“If it makes you feel better.” He ripped off the whole sleeve and handed it to her.
She did the best she could under the circumstances. “I’m sorry I lost the phone. We could go back—”
“I could go back
,” he said. “But there’s no way I’m leaving you behind again. I’m going to get you out of here as fast as I can.”
“But we have to let the Colonel know about the Summit. What if we don’t get out of here in time?”
“We will.” He took a deep breath and stood. “Ready?”
She wasn’t. She got up anyway.
They walked another hour then rested again, this time by a creek. They stayed longer than before and took the opportunity to wash. She took care of his face as best she could and placed handfuls of leaves soaked in cold water over the worst of his injuries, hoping the makeshift poultice would take down the swelling.
She was the one now who wanted to press her lips to his, to feel them warm and alive. She couldn’t. The condition he was in, she would probably have hurt him.
Little by little, they made their way toward civilization, walking as best they could, taking short breaks as frequently as they dared. By nightfall, they still hadn’t reached the road.
“We’re going to have to spend the night here.” Danny scanned their surroundings in the twilight.
“You think the road is that far?”
“A couple of miles. Maybe as many as five.”
Her legs trembled as she sat on the ground. He was right. Even if he could make it, she couldn’t.
He patted his pockets. “Sorry, they took everything from me. You must be hungry.”
Her empty stomach was burning with acid. She’d had two protein bars to eat in two days. “I’ll be fine.”
“I could scare up a few bugs.”
“No thanks.”
“Roots?”
“No digging. You need to rest. We won’t starve until tomorrow.”
He nodded. “If we were by a road, we could look for road kill. Don’t look like that. I had to eat it during training. Everything tastes like chicken when you’re starving. Of course, if we were by a road, we could flag a car down and have him take us to a diner.”