DuBois, Edith - Rugged Glimpse [Rugged Savage Valley, Colorado 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Edith DuBois

  Hiding behind one of the cars parked on the street in front of the building, she watched them walk by and then walk to their tiny black Volkswagen convertible parked half a block down the street on the other side of the road. Elena pointed her camera and took a few shots.

  She didn’t know why, but with the way they moved so quickly and so nervously, Elena had a gut feeling that she needed to find out what they were up to and document it. They popped open the trunk of their car. She was too far to make out what was said, but the short one pointed inside the trunk, bossing the tall one to take something out. The tall one looked hesitant. He shook his head and refused to pull the object out.

  Even from her distance, Elena could see the little man’s face turning beet red. He began gesticulating wildly, poking the big man in the chest and then motioning in angry, jerking motions at the object in the trunk. Finally, his bullying seemed to work, and the big man leaned down, going out of Elena’s sight for a moment as he picked up something out of the trunk.

  When he straightened up again, he held a black plastic bag against his chest. It had something stiff and awkwardly shaped inside, and he turned his face as far away from it as possible. The little man had pulled out a red handkerchief and held it up to his face while also shooing the man away.

  A cold sweat broke out on the back of Elena’s neck.

  “Oh God,” she whispered quietly to herself. “Please don’t let that be what I think it is.” She continued to take photos of their goings-on, but she felt a hot ball of emotion at the back of her throat. If that was what she thought it was—a dead animal—Elena wasn’t sure she could contain her fury toward those two men. If they were the ones responsible for staging all the animal attacks, if they were responsible for the deaths of the mama and the baby elk, Elena didn’t know if she could trust herself to be reasonable.

  She wanted to rip them to shreds. She wanted to break their legs, break their arms, break every single finger and every single toe. She wanted to make them suffer.

  Her hands trembled as she hunched over and walked further down the street, following the pair. They hustled across the street towards the side she was on, and Elena had to scurry around the car she hid behind to make sure that she stayed out of their line of sight.

  She noticed that they both had on a pair of leather work gloves. They stopped in front of Savage Hunger, and the big man dropped his cargo on the ground. Elena was close enough now to make out what they were saying.

  “Don’t just stand there,” the short man said, putting his hands on his hips. “Open it up.”

  The big man knelt down, but before he opened the bag, he looked back up at the little man, hesitant. “Go on. It’s dead. It’s not going to jump out and bite you, for Christ’s sake.”

  Elena didn’t let herself think about his words. She had to get through this. She had to take photos. She had to make sure that people knew about this. Her photographer’s instincts took over.

  The big man put his arms inside the bag and gripped its contents. The little man put his toes delicately on the edge of the bag to keep it in place. Then the big man lifted. Elena couldn’t fight back a gasp when she saw what he held—the torso of a dead deer, bloody and mutilated, exposed bones and muscle glistening in the late afternoon sunlight. Elena forced her fingers to work, to push the button, to document, to create evidence, but in the back of her mind, she could feel the wild storm of her fury.

  After they finished placing the carcass, they headed back down the street. The little man said, “Now, we’ve got to take that other one over to the Woodland Den. That one’s going to be trickier because there are probably a few tourists hanging around. We’ll have to sneak around the back.”

  Elena began hustling back toward Town Hall. She had to tell Joseph and Caleb. She was so intent on making it quickly back to her men that she tripped. Since she was hunched over, she didn’t have enough time to catch her balance before falling onto the cement, scraping her knees and the palms of her hands. A low grunt escaped, and her camera clacked noisily against the sidewalk.

  “Wait, wait,” she heard the little man’s squeaky voice say. Looking under a nearby car, she saw his feet moving toward her. She knew they would discover her if she stayed on the sidewalk, so she decided to make a break for it. She hid her camera behind the front tire of the car she was lying next to and then hopped to her feet, breaking out in a dead sprint.

  “Get her!” she heard Squeaky yell to his bulky companion. She tucked her head down and cursed as she sprinted back toward Town Hall, not realizing how far she had come down the street. She heard clunky footsteps behind her, but they gained a great deal of ground in seconds. A moment later, she felt a tug on the back of her shirt, and the big, muscled guy had her in his grip.

  Elena thrashed, trying to connect with some part of him, but his reach was too far, and she swatted at thin air.

  “Let me go! Let me go, you bloody bastards.”

  Squeaky came into her view. He eyed her up and down, his paunch poking out. “Hmm.” He put his hands together behind his back. “What to do? What to do?”

  Elena thought he was within kicking range, so she put her weight on the big guy and kicked her feet at him.

  “Whoa!” He squeaked, jumping back. He glared at Elena through beady little eyes. “Throw her in the trunk with the rest of the dead meat. Bitch.” He spat at her, but the big guy had already begun to move, and the spit hit her giant captor instead.

  He groaned behind her, and the little man rolled his eyes and walked off.

  When they got to the car, the trunk popped open, and the worst smell Elena had ever sucked up her nostrils met her nose. She gagged several times and then began struggling wildly. She could not get in the trunk. She could not survive a trip in the trunk with whatever dead thing was in there.

  “Here, Wally, tie her wrists up with this.” Wally caught the thin rope that the tubby man tossed at him. Taking advantage of his momentary distraction, she slammed her boot heel on his toe. He grunted in pain but didn’t let go. She had to get someone’s attention. Surely, she could yell loud enough for somebody in Town Hall to hear. She opened her mouth, filled her lungs, and let out a blood-curdling scream. Before she had even gone two seconds, Squeaky smashed the back of his hand across her face. “You are one pesky cunt.” Elena’s jaw hung open, and for a minute, she only experienced shock. But then the pain exploded along her jaw and into her cheek and neck. She fought back stinging tears. Squeaky studied her for a moment. “Damn it, do you have her wrists tied, Wally, or what?” he suddenly burst out.

  “Mmhmm,” came a low rumble from behind her.

  “Throw her in and let’s go.”

  Without preamble, Wally scooped her up and then dumped her unceremoniously into the trunk. She screamed, feeling something large and sharp poking into her back. She tried to scoot away, but there wasn’t enough room. It was on her. It was all over her. The smell burned her.

  And then the trunk slammed closed.

  Chapter Eleven

  Caleb kept checking the back door to the meeting room. Then he would check his watch. Elena had been gone for almost seven minutes. He thought maybe she needed the restroom or something, but uneasy feelings began to move up his spine. He couldn’t focus on what that worm, Fischer, was saying at the podium because his mind kept circling back to Elena.

  He looked over at Joseph and noticed that Joseph also looked fidgety. Something didn’t feel right. When they met eyes, Caleb knew.

  He didn’t hesitate. He simply rose out of his seat and walked straight down the aisle of townspeople and out the back door of the meeting room without offering any word of explanation. To double-check, he cracked open the door to the women’s restroom and called Elena’s name. When she didn’t answer, he headed for the exit.

  The low afternoon sunlight bathed Main Street in a bright orange-red glow, but Caleb didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. He sniffed the air, searching for the hint of anything unusual.

&nb
sp; There was something.

  He took another sniff, deeper, letting it fill his chest completely.

  It smelled rotten.

  He followed the scent, walking down Main Street in the direction where the smell continued to grow stronger and stronger. It got to be so strong that he almost couldn’t breathe. The he saw it, the lump of dead flesh right outside of Savage Hunger.

  “Damn it.” He stopped walking. “Damn it! Damn it!” A breeze rustled against his face, and a sickening roll of the horrible scent washed up his nose. His initial response was to stop breathing and keep the smell out, but he caught another scent hiding beneath the reek of dead flesh. He breathed in, trying to ignore the stench as much as possible and get a stronger grasp on that second scent.

  It was her!

  He breathed deep again and again. He caught her trail. He followed it, zigzagging to make sure he was on the right path. It led to a spot next to a car parked on Main Street. Caleb knelt down because her scent was particularly strong there. He looked along the ground, looking for any clues as to why she would have come to this particular spot. The he saw something familiar—Elena’s strap to her camera—poking out from behind the right front tire. He reached down and grabbed, pulling out the camera to go with the strap.

  Caleb knew that Elena wouldn’t have left her camera in such an obscure place unless it was absolutely necessary. He turned it on and began searching through the most recent pictures.

  “Oh shit,” he whispered under his breath as images of those two goons working for NormCorp who’d also been responsible for starting the fire at the Den flashed across the screen, hauling the partial carcass of a deer in front of Savage Hunger.

  Without waiting another second, he pulled his cell phone out of his pocket—the bear cell phone, the one the bear-shifters only used in case of an emergency—to call his brother. Then he would call the Greenwoods and the Ashleys and the Carsons and Noah Strong. He needed all of them.

  * * * *

  The trunk door popped open, and Elena retched. She barely got her head over the edge before the bile rose up.

  They’d already dropped off the carcass at the Woodland Den, and after leaving there, they’d been driving for about ten minutes. Elena had no idea where they’d taken her, but as she got a firmer grasp on her bearings, she realized they were on the far side of Brown Trout Lake. Near the shore, dark tree stumps stuck ominously up out of the water, black and jagged against the bright blue horizon.

  “Wally, do I have to tell you everything? Go get the boat ready.” Wally trudged to the little dock that Elena had admired on so many of her walks with Caleb. He undid the rope and dragged the boat along the water’s edge until he stood in front of the tubby bully and Elena.

  “Now come get the girl,” the little man demanded. Wally dropped the rope and came to fetch Elena out of the trunk. He grabbed her around the arms and yanked her out, and Elena couldn’t help but suck in deep breaths of air. Its freshness made her gasp in shock.

  “Damn it, Wally, the boat! You let it go!” The tubby man waddle-ran after it and splashed into the water, grabbing the end of the rope to pull the boat back to shore. Wally looked horror-stricken as the tubby man dripped on the shore. “Just load her in. Don’t say anything. Just load her.”

  Wally obeyed, forcing Elena into the boat. When they were all three in the boat, Elena’s mind was rushing so fast, looking for an option, for any way to get her out of her predicament. She thought they probably intended to dump her over the side. She had to get out of her binds. If she could just get out of her binds, if she could just swim, if she could just create a little distance…

  The sound of the oars cutting through the water distracted Elena. It was like the sound of a clanging bell tower, each stroke a portent of her onrushing fate. Her breaths came in short, panicked gasps.

  The short little man sat with his eyes closed, his face held up to the waning sun. “You know what I love about nature? You’re just so alone.” His voice was quiet, reverent almost. “You know what I mean?” He smiled at her as Wally rowed. “Hello!” He bellowed the word, filling his chest with air and letting it loose with one explosive note. Then he laughed gleefully. “See what I mean? All right,” he said, coming down from his laughter. “I think this is good, Wally, don’t you?”

  “Joseph and Caleb will find out. I took pictures of you. They’ll find my camera. And they’ll hunt you down. And they’ll find you. And you will run like the scared little rabbits you are. But they’ll find you and rip you to shreds.”

  The tubby man stared at her for a long moment, assessing her words, then he said, “Ciao,” and pushed her over the edge of the boat.

  Elena sucked in a deep breath as her back hit the water. A second later the water covered her whole body, and she sunk down beneath the surface. She’d been forming a plan, but she was still shocked enough from her fall that it took her a long moment to react. And in that moment she sank further from the surface, from the light of the sun, and from oxygen.

  Her brain snapped to action. The water freed her motions somewhat, and she was able to move her bound hands underneath her legs up to the front. Whatever she did, she had to stay oriented. If she managed to get free but lost a feel for which way was up, she could accidentally swim in the wrong direction. As she sank, the water’s pressure on her body grew, pushing painfully down on her. She kicked her legs, fighting to at least stay level.

  Once her hands were in front of her body, she reached in her pocket and pulled out the pocket knife that Joseph had given her. Whatever she did, she couldn’t drop the knife. Very carefully, she used her hands and her sense of touch to open the knife while continuing to kick her legs furiously. No matter how hard she kicked, though, she still sank even if it wasn’t as quickly as she had at first.

  She felt the blade click open, and she maneuvered it so that she could saw. Her lungs were starting to burn, but she made herself ignore it. She’d done this many times. She’d practiced holding her breath since she was a young girl, and she knew that if she thought about it, thought about how much she needed to fill her lungs with sweet, life-sustaining oxygen, she would be done for. She just had to cut.

  Focusing on her task, she sawed. And she kicked and kicked. And she sawed. A few large bubbles escaped from her mouth. Water slid against her face as she continued to move further beneath the surface. It was getting harder to ignore her need for air. But she kept sawing. The rope twitched, some of its fibers coming loose. She sawed harder, but a few more bubbles flew out of her mouth.

  She grimaced and sawed and kicked.

  And then the rope broke free. When it did, the knife fell out of her grip, but her hands were free.

  She began swimming. There was no light. She had floated that far below the surface, and she hoped, she prayed, she pleaded that she was swimming in the right direction.

  Her muscles didn’t have enough oxygen, and every kick and every stroke of her arms felt like the hardest work she’d ever attempted. But she fought anyway.

  Just a few more strokes, she told herself. Just a few more and light would appear.

  Just a few more.

  There was no light.

  But she kept swimming. She couldn’t stop.

  And then a sort of vast grayness filled her vision.

  She couldn’t think. She didn’t know anything. The only thing she knew was the sensation of water moving past her body as she moved…somewhere…

  The grayness grew brighter. It grew so bright it hurt her eyes.

  And then everything was sharp.

  Something painful and yet stunningly beautiful exploded through her body.

  She gasped and she choked and she breathed in sweet oxygen.

  Completely engrossed in the feeling of being alive for a moment, she floated on her back, smiling and breathing. Then she suddenly remembered her circumstances, and everything came back to her. She righted herself and scanned the surface of the lake. About a hundred meters away, she spotted the two m
en. They were about to reach the shore, and luckily, they weren’t watching for her to resurface.

  She dipped under the surface and swam a few feet to a nearby log, using it to hide behind and also hang onto to give her worn-out body a small break. When she saw them retie the boat to the dock and then get back in their car to drive away, she swam to the nearby shore. As soon as she was on dry land, she began sprinting. She had to make it to the Wildlife Preservation Center. If she could call Caleb and Joseph or find any of the Greenwoods’ numbers. Anything. She had to alert one of the bears.

  She was hoping that the little tubby man and his partner wouldn’t be able to resist going back into town to look for her camera after she’d told them it was there. She tucked her head down and ran. She knew the wildlife center was about a half a mile away. She had to run. Just fast enough to warn somebody. Anybody.

  * * * *

  Joseph felt powerful. His great paws slammed into the earth-ground, and the earth-ground shook with his might.

  If tawny-headed-Elena was hurt in any way, if a single tawny-doe-hair was out of place on her body, Joseph would rip those stupid-ones-who-work-for-the-bad-one to a million pieces. His teeth would tear their flesh from their bodies, and his great, powerful jaw would crunch their bones. And he would enjoy it.

  Brother Caleb ran nearby, about fifty yards to Joseph’s right, and both of them kept their noses attuned for hints of tawny-headed-Elena’s scent. A moment later, he heard a tiny biz-buzzing noise. He recognized it. It was the sound of a fast-driving-machine. He and Brother Caleb veered away from the hard-path-of-men to stay out of sight, but when the fast-driving-machine came into Joseph’s eyesight, he released a monstrous, teeth-shaking roar.

  Then he and Brother Caleb exchanged images in their mind-vision and charged the fast-driving-machine. It was the dark she-looking-driving-machine of the stupid-ones-who-work-for-the-bad-one.