by Steven Bird
“That doesn’t give us many outs,” Jessie said, noting the terrain that would box them in on both sides.
“It’s that or wait them out in the woods,” Nate replied. “We simply don’t have many good options.”
“A few of the folks on the peninsula warned me not to go south of 411. Have you heard such things?” Jessie asked.
“Yeah, they told us that, too. I can’t see how staying out where the UF hunters can find us is any worse than whatever the hell is in the mountains to the south. Maybe their guys just found something better and didn’t return. Who knows? Or maybe the increasing black bear population in the area has something to do with it. With the human numbers being way down, the bear numbers are on the rise. Either way, it’s not like we have a ‘safe’ option by the standard definition of safe. It’s one threat or another. Pick your poison.”
“Well, this is your area, so I’m good with whatever you feel is the best course of action,” Jessie affirmed.
“That settles it, then,” Nate asserted. “It’s into the mountains we go.”
Chapter Five
With Nate taking the point position, Britney riding Hank in the center, and Jessie covering them from the rear, the trio worked their way toward the gap in the hills where they intended to cross over to the other side of the mountain that lay before them. As they crossed through several parcels of land that had clearly once been highly productive hay fields and grazing pastures, Jessie couldn’t help but observe that the grasses had lost the competition for survival without man’s intervention. The fields were now overrun with weeds and brush that weren’t at all suited for livestock consumption.
Even the grass has it rough these days, Jessie thought as he brushed up against some sort of prickly weed. Seeing Nate signal for them to stop up ahead, Jessie glassed the area through his rifle scope to see that Nate appeared to be investigating something on the ground near a large livestock pond.
Rushing ahead to join up with Hank and Britney, Jessie took Hank by the bridle and led him and Britney to Nate’s location. “Damn,” Jessie said, surveying the cattle skeletons that were strewn throughout the area.
“What do you make of it?” Nate asked.
“Hmmm, well, I don’t see any signs of trauma, do you? No chunks of bone missing from projectiles or the like?”
“No, they look like they just dropped and died where they were.”
Looking to the pond, Jessie cautioned, “Let’s not water here. This could have been a way to run people out of the area—to destroy their ability to feed themselves by poisoning their livestock’s water supplies.”
“I’ve seen entire cattle herds wiped out by helicopter,” Nate grumbled. “So, the poisoning of herds or the like wouldn’t surprise me one bit.”
Looking around, Jessie urged, “Let’s get going. I hate being in the open like this.”
Before Jessie took a step, they heard an ominous sound off in the distance.
“What the hell was that?” Nate wondered aloud.
Taking a moment to process it, Jessie said, “It sounded like a Viking war horn or something.”
Looking around nervously, Nate pondered, “Where did it come from?” as they each surveyed the area around them.
“I dunno. But like I said, let’s get a move on.”
Continuing, the group reached the edge of a relatively level wooded area. Giving them the signal to hold their positions, Nate investigated the area ahead of them, then signaled them forward.
Joining the others, Jessie looked up to Britney sitting in Hank’s saddle and bragged, “You’re starting to look comfortable up there.”
“I’m starting to feel comfortable,” she replied.
“He’s not guiding off me now, either,” Jessie pointed out. “You’ve been doing it all since I’ve been bringing up the rear.” Turning to Nate, he asked, “See anything?”
Pointing, Nate explained, “There’s a trail up ahead. Let me go check it out before we all go.”
“Sounds good,” Jessie said, turning his attention back to Britney. “Are you sure you haven’t ridden before?” he inquired.
“My parents and I went to one of those dude ranch places in Montana a few years ago for vacation. We rode horses there, but we really didn’t control them. They followed the horse in front of them just like they had done day in and day out for years. We just had to sit there.”
Chuckling, Jessie agreed, “Yeah, I’d imagine at a place like that, those horses have done that trail several times a day every day since the time they were saddle-broke. They learn the game. That’s how people were getting to be before it all started falling apart. Just going through the motions, playing the game.”
Looking back toward Nate, watching as he worked his way down the trail in the woods, Jessie noticed a glint of light on the hillside adjacent to the trail. “What the…?” he mumbled as a shot rang out, taking Nate’s feet out from under him and spinning him around. A second shot erupted, striking Nate in the back and throwing him to the ground with great force.
Raising his Marlin .30-30, Jessie quickly fired several shots into the area from where the shots had come. Looking back to Britney, Jessie was horrified to see Hank rear up, nearly throwing her off his back.
Britney dropped the reins and instinctively gripped the saddle horn with both hands as Hank exploded into a full gallop across the field, then into the trees and out of sight.
Knowing he couldn’t catch up with Britney, Jessie ran toward Nate as the bark of a tree exploded from the impact of a hard-hitting round next to his head, sending him ducking for cover behind a neighboring tree.
Getting as low as he could, Jessie hid in the weeds surrounding the base of the tree, expecting more shots to begin to rain down on him. After a few moments of silence and calm, Jessie again heard the sound of the horn they’d heard just moments before the shooting began; this time though, it was much farther away.
For the next several moments, Jessie remained hidden behind the tree, unsure of the whereabouts of the shooter who had fired on him, or if they still remained in the vicinity. Quickly taking a peek, he saw Nate lying still in the trail up ahead, face down in the dirt with his leg in a very unnatural position.
“Dammit!” Jessie grumbled. Leaving his position of cover, he rushed forward and then ducked behind another tree. Catching his breath, he peeked again and saw no change in Nate’s position.
Making another advance, Jessie sprinted hard, ducking once again behind a cluster of trees. Now only fifteen or so yards away from Nate, he heard Nate grumble in a monotone voice as he attempted to not create any signs of movement, “Bait. I may be bait.”
Feeling better knowing Nate was still alive, Jessie turned his attention back to the potential location of their threat. Scanning the area with his rifle scope, he could see no movement. Slipping out from behind the tree, Jessie worked his way through the woods and to the hill. Working his way up the hill with his rifle at the high ready, a round chambered and ready to fire, Jessie slowly cleared the area, unable to find the shooter. Reaching a dead and rotting fallen tree, Jessie knelt down and inspected a set of strange prints and two freshly fired twelve-gauge shotgun shells.
“I think they’re gone!” he shouted down to Nate.
“I’ll cover you! Come on down!” Nate yelled as he rolled over and sat up, raising his M4 and providing cover for Jessie’s approach.
As Jessie reached his position, Nate reached out to him and said, “Help me up.”
“What about your leg?” Jessie asked, concerned about Nate’s injuries.
Reaching down and removing his prosthetic leg, Nate held it up and grinned, “This leg? It doesn’t hurt at all.”
Flinching, Jessie shuddered, “Damn, that just messed with my head.”
“I’m lucky I lost this leg,” Nate said. “I’d be bleeding to death right now if not for that,” he asserted, pointing at the shotgun pattern that peppered its surface.
“Did you get hit anywhere else?” Jess
ie asked, looking him over expecting to find blood.
Wiping blood out of his collar, Nate looked relieved. “I think a few of the pellets got through, but I’m pretty sure my pack took the brunt of it,” he concluded, sliding the straps to his pack off his shoulders.
Flipping the pack over and surveying the damage, Nate said, “Again, I’m lucky they hit my leg, throwing me off to allow the second shot to hit my pack. My guardian angel is working overtime today.”
“I’d say so,” Jessie agreed. “Can you walk? We need to find Britney before someone else does.”
“Yeah,” replied Nate, as he began putting his prosthetic leg back into place.
The two men worked their way through the woods, this time remaining clear of the trail, shadowing the field that Hank had used for his panic-stricken egress of the scene.
Seeing something lying just ahead in the overgrown field, Jessie said, “Look,” as he pointed. “Is that…?”
After a slight hesitation, Nate replied, “I dunno.”
Stuttering, Jessie mumbled, “I… I think it’s… it’s my saddle.”
Carefully walking into the pasture while Nate provided cover with his M4, Jessie approached the saddle to find that the cinch had been cut. “Somebody wanted this off in a hurry,” he muttered while noting the intentionally inflicted damage.
“Dammit, where the hell is she?” grumbled Nate.
Hearing a girl’s scream in the distance, Jessie and Nate both erupted into a full sprint toward the sound. Catching a glimpse of what could only be described as a figure wearing animal fur for an outer garment while dragging Britney along behind, Jessie shouted, “There!” and he and Nate both changed course in pursuit of Britney and her captor.
Several shots rang out, slowing their advance and causing them to lose ground once again.
“Those shots didn’t come from Britney’s location!” shouted Nate as he took cover behind a tree with the realization that they were still completely unsure of the extent of the threat they faced.
“We need to leapfrog and cover each other until we know who, or what, we’re up against,” Jessie insisted, growing more impatient by the minute.
Nodding in agreement, Nate volunteered, “I’ll go first.” Running from his position of cover, Nate bounded ahead to a cluster of trees, taking cover once again.
Once Nate was back in a position of cover, Jessie quickly moved forward while Nate covered him. The two men continued this series of movements, but could not keep Britney and her captor in sight.
“What the hell is this?” Nate asked, urging Jessie to join up with him.
“It looks like a paw print, but it’s the size of a human’s foot.”
“I saw the same thing back where you were ambushed,” answered Jessie.
“You reckon this goes along with the get-up that guy, or thing, was wearing?”
Shaking his head, Jessie responded, “I’d imagine that’s the only sane answer. Not that sanity has a place in this world.”
Moving a little farther forward, Nate came across what could only be assumed to be the drag marks made by a kicking and screaming unwilling participant. “We’re not gonna catch back up with them,” he concluded. “We're gonna have to just stay on their trail and figure out where they’re going.”
“Why the hell would they have cut Hank’s saddle off?” Jessie wondered aloud. “I mean, if you were going to take the horse and the saddlebags, why not the saddle?”
“A diversion maybe?” Nate pondered. “We did stop our pursuit to check it out.”
“Ah, who the hell knows?” Jessie grumbled. “This whole thing is nuts. Let’s just keep moving and worry about figuring it all out after we get her back.”
Pressing on, Nate and Jessie worked their way through the woods, following the trail left behind by Britney and her captor, determined to return her to safety, a cause they would see through to the end, regardless of the cost.
Chapter Six
Awakening to a throbbing headache, Britney felt her body surge forward. Struggling to move, she quickly realized her hands and feet were bound and tied by two separate lengths of rope. Screaming in terror, she heard her voice echo in the darkness that surrounded her.
The figure dragging her through the dark, damp place grunted as if to show aggravation with her cries and struggles. For fear of reprisal, she suppressed her protest and just lay there, being dragged along in the darkness.
Attempting to survey her surroundings without the benefit of light, Britney could feel that she was being dragged along on some sort of animal hide or rug. Every sound seemed to echo as if she was in an enclosed space. There was a total absence of light—she was in total, utter darkness. She wondered for a moment if she had been blinded by the apparent blow to her head that had caused her unconsciousness.
Her surroundings felt damp and cool. The air was calm, with virtually no wind, merely the occasional cool draft. She was inside, but inside of what? The rough, uneven surface was certainly no floor. She could hear the echo of dripping water. There was something familiar about the strangeness of this place. But what was it?
She was startled to feel several hands grab her and heave her body several feet. She landed on a cold, metal surface, slamming her heard against a hard, rib-like structure. The surface moved side to side, and she could hear the sound of water lapping against it from its motion.
A boat! she thought, still confused as to why she couldn’t see.
Feeling one of the figures that had tossed her step into the boat alongside her, causing it to rock side to side, she recoiled and cowered the best she could, silently fighting against her restraints.
Hearing the sounds of a paddle or oar entering and exiting the water to propel the boat forward, she looked toward the sound and saw a faint green glow of light around what she could only assume was the face of one of her abductors. The sight both confused and horrified her.
Try as she must, Britney couldn’t make out any details, just the faintest glow of light. At least I’m not blind, she assured herself.
After what she could only assume was traveling by boat for several minutes, she was grabbed once again and lifted up. No longer feeling the rocking motion of the boat, she presumed the figures holding her were now standing on dry land.
One of the figures heaved her up and onto his shoulder. The man, assuming it was a man, seemed very large and strong to her.
Feeling herself freefall, she impacted the ground once again. Her body ached, and she struggled to regain her breath as she felt the sensation of being dragged along the floor on a rug or a fur once again. Rolling to her side, she reached out with her bound hands to feel the cool, damp sensation of rock and grit.
Allowing her hands to drag across the ground, she felt an object and took hold of it with her fingers, picking it up. What is this? she wondered as she felt the long, slender object. When the weight and feel of the object became apparent to her, her hands instantly released it, thinking, bone! as chills ran up her spine and shivers flowed through her body.
When the dragging sensation abruptly stopped, strong hands once again took hold of her, heaving her onto the figure’s broad shoulders. She could feel the rhythmic motion of footsteps, with the occasional stumble. While she was carried through the darkness, she intermittently grazed against what felt like rocks above her as the overhead clearance of the space was low.
Bent over the large figure’s shoulder, feeling the impact in her ribs with every step, Britney could smell a musky, animalistic, dirty scent, as if the figure carrying her was a beast and not a man at all.
Feeling the figure come to a sudden stop, Britney was tossed back onto the ground. Stunned by the impact, she could hear the sound of chains clanking together as she felt a hand pull her by the foot and fasten some sort of metal restraint around her leg.
Once the hand released her, everything went silent save for the sound of droplets of water splashing as they dripped from above.
Her mind raced, and she f
elt her senses, out of the sheer desperation of her unknown circumstances, becoming almost hypersensitive to her surroundings. Britney began to smell several foul odors. The smell of what she assumed was human waste began to waft through the confined space, as did the smell of urine, and what she could only assume was putrid, rotting meat.
Jerking her head in an attempt to shake a fly from her face, Britney heard a weak, raspy voice say, “I think they’re gone.”
Startled, she flinched, quickly turning her head toward the source of the sound. “Who… who’s there?” she asked in a quivering, panic-stricken voice.
“Don’t worry. I can’t hurt you,” the voice assured her. “I’m bound, like you,” the young-sounding man’s voice continued with the sound of rattling chains permeating the space. “See? I’m chained down the same as you.”
“Where… where are we?”
“My guess is Hell,” the voice lamented. “And those were the demons.”
“Stop it!” she snapped, in no mood to have her emotions toyed with.
“You’ll see,” the mysterious person in the darkness sighed in defeat.
“Are there others here?”
“There were several. Now it’s just him and me… well, and you.”
“Was? Who’s him?” she asked.
“There’s a guy to my left. I hear his chains move every now and then, but he won’t talk. A boy named Trent was here until yesterday. There were several others before that.”
“Where… where did he go?” she asked, almost afraid of the potential answer.
“They took him.”
“They? Where?”
“Wherever it is, it’s not far from here. It’s… down here, wherever here is. When I got here, there were other people in chains. Every other day, at least, from what my mind perceives as days, one of them was taken away. Not long after, the screams would start, and grow in intensity until they just stopped. You never even hear a whimper after they cease. Something bad happens. I don’t know what, but they never come back.