by Robin Caroll
Something indefinable lurked behind her eyes as she stared at him. A shudder coursed through her body, breaking the spell she’d cast over Hunter. Tossing a final glance at Shadow, she moved past him to the tent, not offering him another word.
He waited until he heard the zipper close before crossing the room to get a musty sleeping bag. Paul snored softly from his bag next to Orson. The tax attorney’s breathing echoed harshly against the dark silence of the lean-to. Christian looked up as Hunter passed. “She still mad?”
Hunter raised a brow and nodded. “Pretty much, yeah.”
Christian’s chuckle, while low as to not disturb the others, reverberated loudly in Hunter’s skull. “I figured. She does like to hold on to her anger.”
Squatting beside Christian’s sleeping bag, Hunter tilted his head. “You said that earlier. Any tips on breaking through that wall of hers?”
“You’d do better to ask Gabe. He’s always been the one who’s able to slip under her guard, not me.”
“Any advice at all?” Hunter hated the desperation prevalent in his voice.
“Don’t push her. Let her work through her emotions in her mind first.” Christian shifted around in the bedroll. “Katie’s a complicated girl, has been ever since our mother died. Well, Mom disappeared. Dad waited seven years and had her declared legally dead. Katie was caught in the crossfire then. She has a lot of issues hidden beneath the surface. Let her figure it out. If you press her on it, you’ll lose.”
Wait . . . the sage advice Hunter did not want to hear. Waiting was the wind gusting down halls, slamming every door of opportunity. Had his opportunity passed?
He stood. “Thanks.”
“No problem. Good luck, you’ll need it.”
Hunter crossed the room, then laid the sleeping bag next to his, where Shadow slept soundly. He stretched out on the thick fabric, arranging the room in his mind, now a force of habit. Paul and Orson slept against the north wall—Christian slept closest to the table, on the west side—Jerry’s rhythmic breathing sounded against the east wall—and Hunter laid closest to the door on the south side. Come morning, they’d be up at first light. He needed his sleep. If only the taunting image of Katie would stop controlling his thoughts.
Katie scrambled into her sleeping bag, moving as silently as she could. Ceaseless, endless questions hammered against her mind. Hunter’s eyes haunted her. She remained trapped by the memory of her emotions. She’d never forget a single detail of his face.
Ariel rolled to the side, facing her. Katie realized she hadn’t been quiet enough. “He really cares about you.” Ariel’s low voice crawled up Katie’s side.
“What?” The annoyance level she endured diminished quickly.
“Hunter. He really cares about you.”
Katie flipped onto her back. “I really don’t want to talk about it.”
“I’m just telling you.” Ariel rustled in her sleeping bag. “I’m his partner and know him better than anyone. He’s really taken with you.”
“Look, I’m trying hard not to be rude, but I don’t want to discuss this. Especially not with you.”
“Fine. Whatever you say. Suit yourself.” Ariel snuffed out the lamp and turned her back to Katie.
Guilt pressed on Katie’s chest. She inhaled deeply, arguing with herself over whether she should apologize or not. She pinched her eyes closed, wishing she had someone to talk with. Someone she could trust, like her father. Maybe if she believed in the whole religion thing, the God-thing, she’d have someone. But God wasn’t listening. At least, not to her. No matter what Hunter preached. Although she couldn’t deny he walked in peace. Could that be a reflection of his relationship with God? She, too, once had a personal relationship with the Lord.
She turned on her stomach, letting the bumpy ground dig into her flesh, the pain far suppressing by the ache in her heart. How could she explain her tangle of feelings? She hadn’t ever felt like this toward a man before Hunter. As much as it ripped her apart to consider what she must do, she had to do it. Had to remove him from her mind, from her emotions. If she didn’t push him aside now, her heart would be lost. The admission dredged from a place she’d thought missing in her psyche.
Expelling a long breath, Katie forced her muscles to relax. The memories drifted over everything that happened today, letting exhaustion overwhelm her. Her entire body became engulfed in tides of despair and weariness. Drained—spent and hollow. Katie closed her eyes and drifted into the wisps of sleep’s welcoming arms.
Chapter 20
Katie’s even breathing stalled. In the twilight between awareness and slumber, she battled the cottony gauze encasing her mind. Her eyes jerked open as she tried to gulp in air, and couldn’t take in a deep swallow. A strong hand covered her mouth. The distinct odor of sweat filled her nostrils, nearly making her gag. She frantically twisted her head, but the hand held firm.
She tried to move to no avail, trapped inside her sleeping bag. A man straddled her, his knees pinning the bag tightly over her. A strange greenish hue shone inside the confining tent, casting odd shadows on the tarpaulin. A glow stick laid on the ground beside her. She struggled to focus on the man’s face looming above hers.
Jerry’s eyes held that familiar, uncertain glazed look.
She bucked and thrashed, terror taking hold of her. Katie arched her back and jerked. The rocks under the tent’s floor dug into her shoulders. Cold sweat beaded on her upper lip and brow.
He pressed his face closer to hers. “Stop fighting me,” he whispered harshly. His pupils were dilated, the whites of his eyes mapped with red jagged lines. He brandished a gun in his free hand, digging its cold muzzle into the side of her neck.
Katie stilled her movements as the gun pushed against her pulse. Backlit with the eerie greenish hue from the glow stick, Jerry’s face appeared distorted. The vision before her conveyed a man hovering on the brink of insanity.
Heart pumping blood through her veins as fast as the undertow of the Gauley, Katie could smell the stink of her own fear. She swallowed, but remained frozen in place. The gun against her throat kept her muscles from tweaking.
“That’s better. I’m going to remove my hand. If you scream, I’ll kill you. Then I’ll kill your brother.” His narrowed eyes glared at her. “Got it?”
She kept her stare focused on his eyes and nodded, slowly and deliberately. Her mind drifted into a muddy haze as disbelief pervaded her senses.
This couldn’t be happening to her!
“Good.” He removed his hand and pulled the gun back to his side. She drank in big breaths of air, letting her lungs fill to capacity. He shifted off of her.
Raw panic rose within her. He allowed her to sit. Her gaze drifted across the tent.
Ariel.
She lay on her side facing Katie, arms stretched behind her. A thick belt nestled right above her knees, effectively tying her legs together. Dark knots wove around her ankles. Only the light from the green glow stick split the blanket void of darkness. Katie squinted against the shadows of the night. Were those shoelaces around Ariel’s ankles? A long piece of the duct tape covered her mouth. As Katie stared at her, Ariel’s eyes blinked furiously.
Katie pressed her lips together. Ariel was trying to send her a message, but Katie couldn’t understand. A knot of wild horror tightened in her stomach.
Jerry hovered over her, waving the gun. “Get your shoes on, we’re leaving.”
“L-L-Leaving? To where?” Her hands trembled as she automatically reached for her hiking boots.
“You’re taking me out of here—tonight.” His eyes shone with … what?
Her hands froze over the boot’s laces. “I can’t take you out of here, Jerry. I have a twisted ankle.”
“Too bad.” He curled back his lips, snarling. “You’ll do what I tell you, or I’ll shoot your brother and everybody else here.”
“Why are you doing this?” Panic rioted within her. She had to keep him talking—get him to listen to reason. Didn’
t he realize he’d tied up an FBI agent?
Jerry waived the gun at her. “Put on your boots.”
Katie finished donning her shoes and looked at him. She wrestled with keeping her heart cold and still.
Jerry grabbed her arm and jerked her to her feet.
Her breath solidified inside her lungs. Breathing became impossible. She coughed and sputtered.
Whack!
Katie’s head popped back. Her face stung and grew hot.
She raised a hand to cover her cheek where he’d slapped her. Tears of pain and fury blinded her. She couldn’t control her spasmodic quivering.
“Now get moving.” Even though he whispered, a cold edge laced his voice. He jabbed the barrel of the gun into her spine.
She flinched. He pressed harder.
Her back cried out in protest. She took a wobbly step.
He leaned close to her, his breath in her ear. “If you so much as make a sound, I’ll kill everyone here. Including your brother and that blasted dog of yours.”
Christian’s tenderness and declaration of love rang out against her heart. The knife in her chest twisted. Determination sat like a rock inside her gut.
She hobbled from the tent and moved soundlessly around the lean-to. Her eyes pealed for any sign of movement from inside the building. Nothing. Clenching her jaw to kill the sobs in her throat, Katie pressed on.
The moon shone through the clouds, muted illumination slicing through the darkness. The shiny metal of Jerry’s gun flashed in the light. Katie bit her bottom lip to stifle the cry building.
Behind the shanty, Katie spied the wadded sleeping bag. Her heart lurched. Carter.
Had Jerry killed him? Dismay crowded her mind. She had no hope of getting out alive. She forced herself to continue walking, climbing. An idea whipped into her mind so suddenly, she nearly faltered. She may die, but at least she could lead Jerry far away from the others.
She could give them a chance.
It had stopped raining, but the saturated ground made their climb slippery and treacherous. Several times, Katie lost her footing and slid back against Jerry. In each instance, he’d thrust the gun into her back and shove her in front of him.
Having left the glow stick behind, Jerry demanded she use the waning moonlight as her only navigation. Clouds still blanketed the sky, hiding the twinkling stars behind their gloomy depths. A gentle breeze pushed cold air across the space, and she shivered.
Their progress, sluggish at best, was hampered even more by Katie’s injury. Every step up sent bolts of intense agony up her leg. She remained silent and defeated—fear and despair tore at her. Her spirits sank lower with each step, knowing it took her farther away from what she held nearest and dearest. A bitter frigidness dwelt in the cave of her lonely soul.
The raspy snoring from Orson’s open mouth roused Hunter. In the dark, his disorientation hovered over his consciousness. Shaking himself, he sat and glanced over at Shadow. The dog laid still, the only movement coming from the gentle rise and fall of his little furry chest. Hunter smiled and rubbed his chin. Had anything happened to the dog during the night, Katie would never forgive him.
He ran his hands over his face, then through his hair, wiping the cobwebs of sleep from his mind. As quietly as he could, Hunter slipped from his sleeping bag and crawled to the foot of it. He shoved his feet into his boots, didn’t bother to tie them, then stood and crept from the lean-to.
Morning’s first light beckoned mere moments away. He gasped against the burst of chill. He ran his hands over his arms as he continued to the edge of the trees. Having listened to the torrential rains they’d endured, the still silence unnerved Hunter. Birds that’d been silent for the entire trip, tweeted from their branches. A promise that all would be fine.
An uneasy sensation slithered up his spine. Hunter looked around, taking stock of his surroundings. A warning voice whispered in his head. He remained still, gaze filtering along the horizon for anything amiss. Nothing jumped out at him, nary a thing appeared out of place. Still, the sensation settled over his shoulders.
Hunter paced himself as he headed back to the shanty. His mind congested with doubt and disquiet. He glanced around at the doorframe. The tent’s flap still zipped tightly shut—no movement from outside, save the graceful swaying of the trees in the pre-dawn breezes. His imagination must be working overtime.
Back inside the lean-to, Hunter noticed Jerry absent from his sleeping bag. Hunter grunted softly. The other man must have had to see to personal business. Most likely, his presence in the great outdoors had been what caused Hunter’s shroud of uneasiness. Shrugging off the sentiment, Hunter began laying out breakfast for the group. If Jerry didn’t return within a few moments, Hunter would go searching for the troublemaker. As soon as first light broke, Hunter wanted to be ready to get them moving.
Someone tapped his shoulder.
Hunter jumped and spun around, looking into Christian’s smiling face.
“Good morning,” Katie’s brother whispered, not bothering to mask his snickering.
“Morning.” Hunter grinned and returned to assembling breakfast supplies. They had plenty of food and water, thanks to Christian’s and Ariel’s packs.
Christian scratched his head. “Anybody else up?”
“Just Jerry.”
“Lovely.” Christian ran a hand over his hair, pushing his jagged bangs from his face. “I need to visit the little boys’ room.”
Hunter chuckled. “I hear ya.”
Christian ambled toward the door.
“If you see Jerry, tell him to come on back and get his bedroll ready to go,” Hunter whispered out to him.
“Will do,” Christian said over his shoulder before crossing the threshold.
Shadow rousted to his three good legs and hobbled behind Christian. Sympathy for the faithful dog washed over Hunter. Poor thing, probably desperate to see his mistress. Hunter could relate . . . anxiety knotted his nerves at the thought of seeing Katie this morning.
Alone again, the odd feeling of something wrong, something terribly wrong, filled Hunter’s sense of self. All the training, all the years in the field, and his instincts had never failed him before, not a single time. He spun slowly, surveying the room. His stare fell to Jerry’s empty bedroll, not looking mussed. His mind raced with possible scenarios, and none of them good. His gut twisted.
Hunter rushed from the shanty and approached the tent. His hand hesitated over the zipper. What if Katie and Ariel were asleep? What if paranoia were merely playing havoc with his mind? He leaned his head against the canvas, listening for snores. He heard nothing, so Hunter pressed closer, practically straining against the material. “Ariel? Katie? You awake?” He spoke in a loud whisper, desperate for a reply.
Shadow appeared at his side, sniffing the tent. He whimpered and pawed at the heavy canvas.
A muffled moan sounded.
He unzipped the tent and stepped inside. His heart turned into a giant glacier.
Hunter rushed to Ariel’s prone form, then yanked the duct tape from her mouth. “Are you okay?”
Shadow sniffed at Katie’s sleeping bag. His canine body went rigid as he barked twice.
Ariel nodded. “Katie.” Her voice sounded raw and scratchy. “Jerry took Katie. He’s making her lead him out of here.”
Dark fury fogged his thoughts. He ripped the binding from Ariel’s wrists, cringing as she flinched against the harsh removal.
“Hunter…”
He locked his gaze on her face.
“He has my backup firearm.”
Katie kept her eyes trained on the terrain in front of her. The moon tucked back into the clouds, forcing Katie and Jeerry to journey by the purplish hue of the impending sunrise. Now, the first sunbeams filtered through the canopy of oaks, dancing across the dim patches of trees. Red and yellow leaves drifted on the gentle breezes, announcing fall’s arrival. Impending doom cloaked her like a well-worn shawl, and Katie studied the beauty of the mountain she’d li
ved close to all her life, but never really appreciated. The bright colors of autumn calmed her soul, soothed her agitated state. Having a plan also helped assuage her fears.
An idea occurred to her after the first fifteen minutes of the climb—to lead Jerry in a roundabout way, thus allowing the others to make it to the top before them. It could be her only chance of survival. Implementing the plan wouldn’t be as easy. Knowing she couldn’t veer sharply to either side, and with the gun in her back, she had to keep making progress upward. Taking baby steps around trees and rocks, she’d managed to deter their course by at least twenty yards to the left of the path the others would take up the hill. She let out a ragged breath as she calculated she would need to move them several more yards to ensure the others’ safety.
Jerry’s constant grunts and shoves only fueled her determination. Somewhere along the way, she’d let go of most of her fear, allowing anger to take its place. Katie resolved to keep an iron will imposed on her self-control. He might well kill her, but at least she’d save her brother, Orson, Paul, Ariel, and … and … Hunter.
Hunter. His name hovered on the edges of her mind. The harder she tried to push the truth away, the more it persisted. In all likelihood, she wouldn’t get the chance to tell him how she felt, even if she could admit it. Nor would she be able to lose herself in his embrace. Katie shivered, recalling in vivid detail the kisses and the way they’d made her feel.
The memory of her emotions trapped her, holding her as much a hostage as Jerry. Her cold words came back to haunt her, tormenting her relentlessly. He’d asked for her to listen, to understand, and she’d refused. The mocking voice in her head blasted insults at her. Her day of reckoning couldn’t be postponed for long. Talons of guilt and regret clawed at her soul.
At a large boulder, Katie took another three feet to the left.
Jerry grabbed her sweater and jerked her backward. She fell against the soggy ground, the cold moisture soaking her jeans. She glared at him.