Torrents of Destruction

by Robin Caroll

  “Move it.” Jerry’s voice came out harsher, meaner. He dug the muzzle of the gun harder into her shoulder blades. Her muscles spasmed in agony.

  The pounding in her head split pain all the way down her neck and into her spine, reminding her of Jerry’s dark intentions. The clear recollection prompted her to quicken her pace. A breeze blew against her, lifting the hair clinging to the side of her face. Her muscles tensed as she picked her way along. She bit her lip to hold back the retort on her tongue that begged to spurt forth. Whatever she did, Katie needed to remain calm and focused in order to lead Jerry away from the group’s access. And not enraging him again would probably be a smart move on her part.

  Each step made the soreness in her ankle more unbearable. Several times she faltered, her ankle giving out entirely. She crumbled to the ground, only to have Jerry jerk her up by her hair and shove the gun into her spine again—a bruise in the making. Everything in her wanted to lash out, to turn around and slap Jerry’s face, yet she knew doing so would seal her fate. How ironic—just when she decided to live for God, she’d probably soon be living with God.

  Katie gingerly chose her footholds, wary of the rocks jutting up from the squishy ground. The thicket of trees lost some of its density, causing her to rely on bushes and brambles to pull herself along. Prickly branches and thorns dug into her hands, drawing blood. She ignored the pain, choosing to focus on her progress. A few times she ducked clear of a low-lying limb at the last minute, causing it to pop Jerry right in the face. Each time he grunted, her resolve to make the trip as painful on him as possible rising another notch.

  A large rock loomed in front of her, directly in their path, protruding out with sharp edges and points, like a mountain breaking through the horizon. She made four steps to the left to move around it, but never recovered back to the right. Jerry blindly followed. Even though the muzzle of the gun tucked hard into her back, Katie tossed her hair over her shoulder, and enjoyed her little acts of defiance. Knowing she thwarted Jerry’s plans made her brighten inside.

  Her newfound inner strength surprised her. Oh, she’d never been a mealy-mouth, helpless female, not growing up around Gabe and Christian, but the power surging through her now felt unfamiliar—and exhilarating. Or, maybe her will to live had at long last emerged. Either way, her mind and body screamed with a strong sense of survival. She’d endure and prevail in the end. She had to!

  “Stop.” The single word barely made it through Jerry’s labored breathing.

  Katie turned and faced him with a deliberately casual movement.

  He bent at the waist, hands propped against his kneecaps, and dropped his head. The gun dangled from his right hand. His breathing came fast and furious. A fine sheen of perspiration dotted his upper lip. Jerry truly was a desk jockey, so out of shape he panted like a backyard dog in the midday sun.

  The wind shifted, moving down the mountain, pulling her toward the water. A clean, earthy odor infusing the area, and Katie’s heart settled. This was her home turf, and she could beat Jerry at his own game, if she held her cards close to her chest and played them at the right time.

  She pressed her lips together and leaned her shoulder against a nearby oak tree. Her breathing remained steady. She hadn’t even broken a sweat.

  His lack of physical fitness worked well into her plan. Not only did she want to keep the others safe, but she wanted to buy herself some time. Time for Christian to find her. She had no doubt her brother would come for her. He’d be able to track her and find them.

  A warming sensation settled over her at the idea. Hunter would come after her as well. The freshness of his deception still ate at her conscious, but he hadn’t meant to hurt her. Not intentionally. He should’ve told her the truth, on that she remained firm, but in all honesty, she hadn’t allowed him much opportunity to tell him the truth after they’d kissed.

  Kissing. The heat rose up the back of her neck as she replayed their kiss in her mind.

  She tilted her head, pushing aside the pain in the back of her neck, and gauged the time from the placement of the sun. By her rough estimations, her rescuers should be storming on the scene any moment. They’d had time to talk with Ariel, and Christian wouldn’t wait to track her. The corners of her mouth tickled as they lifted. Her shining white knight to the rescue.

  “What’re you smiling about?” Jerry’s voice came out in bursts. His breathing still wrenched and the flush continued to cover his face.

  She met his accusing stare without flinching. “Just enjoying the day.”

  He charged at her, shoving her against the tree. Bark dug into her back, abrading her sore skin. Katie refused to cower—finding a perverse pleasure in taking back the control he had over her. She wouldn’t be put down by this brute any more.

  “There’s nothing to enjoy.” Jerry nudged her sore ankle with the toe of his boot.

  “That’s where you’re wrong.” She ran a shaking hand through her hair. “Come on, Jerry, tell me your story. Why are you doing this?”

  He glared at her, then his expression softened a slight measure. “You wouldn’t understand.”

  She, too, lowered her tone. “Try me.”

  “I have no choice. I’m merely the fall guy here.”

  “Come again? You’re the one with the gun.”

  “Desperate times call for desperate measures.” His face took on a thoughtful expression.

  “Jerry, tell me what’s going on. You can trust me.” She chewed her bottom lip. Maybe if she could get him to talking, she could get him to listen to reason.

  His eyes lit up, then darkened again. “No, I can’t. I have no choice. I never did.” His voice lowered until he mumbled. “Now I really don’t.”

  She took a step toward him, her mind racing with possibilities. “Jerry…”

  He raised the tip of the gun to point at her, the moment of sentiment gone. “Get moving.”

  “Sure you’re up to it?” Blatant defiance hung in her tone, as well as a not-so-subtle challenge.

  His eyes, cold and proud, flashed with icy contempt. “Just lead the way,” he said.

  She turned, using the tree as a hold on her way up the mountainside.

  Hunter crouched behind the full shrubbery, his eyes locked onto Katie and Jerry. He kept his finger up to make sure Christian understood to keep quiet. The air hung heavy over the mountain, so thick it pressed down oppressively over the terrain. The wet ground, warming by the sun’s peek-a-boo rays, quickly turned to steam, only to be blown away in the arms of the gentle, yet constant, breeze dancing over the landscape.

  Jerry and Katie had stopped briefly, making Hunter believe he could make his move. He couldn’t hear their conversation, but crept toward the duo with Christian on his heels. Jerry slammed her against the tree. It took everything Hunter had not to rush forward and clobber the man. Yet, years of training and conditioning held him firmly in check. Timing was everything.

  Now, as they moved upward again, Hunter led Christian stealthy behind the couple. He reached out for a sapling, pulling himself over the slick ground. Looking over his shoulder, he motioned to Christian that he wanted to speed up, to get ahead of Katie and Jerry. Christian nodded and pointed toward a more level area of ground. Hunter moved in that direction.

  Painstakingly slow, Hunter and Christian gained on Jerry and Katie, moving like cats stalking their prey, working in silence to not alert Jerry of their presence. Perspiration dripped down Hunter’s face into his eyes, even though the temperature dipped below the warm end of the thermometer. He wiped his vision clean with the back of his hand and continued pushing forward.

  At last they moved far enough ahead of Jerry that Hunter felt confident in turning onto their path to wait in ambush. In hushed tones he explained his plan to Christian. “I’m going to hide behind those bushes across the way. You stay here. They’ll be trapped between us.” He peered into Christian’s eyes, seeing the anger and worry lurking in their depths. “You stay out of sight. Let me handle Jerry.
Once I have his attention, you pull Katie to safety. Understand?”

  “Gotcha.”

  “Once you have her, turn and head toward the others. Try to catch up with Ariel’s group.”

  “What about you?”

  Hunter smiled, excitement coursing through his veins to match the adrenaline already pumping his heart at top speed. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll catch up with you once I contain Jerry.”

  Christian hitched his brows. “You be careful.”

  “I’m trained for this kind of stuff, remember?” His chuckle echoed low and hoarse. His fingers itched to curl into a fist and plow into Jerry’s face. Repeatedly.

  He winked at Christian, then crept across the way and dodged behind a thicket. He’d barely had time to settle against the oak tree’s knotted trunk when the unmistakable sound of thrashing underbrush sounded from below his position. He touched the butt of his gun, but left it jammed into the back of his jeans. He wouldn’t need to pull his firearm—he had every intention of taking Jerry Sands down, one-on-one.

  Katie reached another clearing and stopped, leaning against a tree to the left of the path. She slumped to the ground. Immediately, mud saturated her jeans, gluing them to her body.

  Behind her, Jerry waved the gun in her direction. “What’re you stopping here for?”

  “My ankle. It hurts too bad to keep going. I have to rest.” She reached down and rubbed her shin. Stabs of pain shot up to her knee.

  He moved to stand in front of her, his chest rising and falling quickly as his breathing came in spurts. “Oh. We can take a minute’s rest, I guess.”

  Gingerly touching her ankle, Katie cringed. She needed a peppermint, badly. Since she had none, she bit down on her bottom lip and studied her profusely sweating captor. “Jerry…”

  He glanced into her eyes. Fear danced in his orbs.

  “It’s okay. Whatever reason you have for doing this, it’s okay. I’d like to know what’s going on.”

  Leaning against an opposite tree, he slumped, gripping his knees with his hands. The gun shifted so it no longer pointed at her. He wiped the sweat from his forehead with his shoulder. “It’s complicated. But none of this was my decision. I’m only the patsy.”

  “Who told you to cut the raft?”

  His head jerked up. His stare met hers, questions blinking back at her.

  “Come on, surely you didn’t think I wouldn’t recognize a knife cut, did you?”

  He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. “I didn’t cut the raft.”

  “You didn’t?” She ran a hand over her bangs, pushing them off her brow. “Then who did?”

  “Paul.”

  She snorted as the ludicrous idea tapped against her brain. Paul? Saboteur? She wanted to laugh, but stopped when Jerry’s head snapped up.

  He glared at her, fear and loathing shooting from his eyes.

  A gust of wind tickled the loose strands of hair against her face. She shoved them away with the back of her hand, then rubbed her cheek against the arm of her sweater to brush off the mud. “He seems so harmless. Why would he cut the raft?”

  Jerry snickered. “Harmless? You don’t get it, do you? He’s really that good. Got you all fooled.”

  She shook her head as her mind raced over the last two days. Had it only been two days? Katie forced her mind to recall every image she had of Paul, every memory. His quiet, unassuming demeanor made him appear the perfect lap-dog. Could it all be an act? She pressed the palm of her hand against her forehead. “Did you knock Steve into the river?” Her stare penetrated the space between them.

  He hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah, but only because I was told to.”

  “And Orson. Did you trip him?”

  Again, he nodded. This time he didn’t say anything.

  “What about Walter? Did you push him into the water?” She forced her words past the lump in her throat.

  “No.” He shook his head, but met her stare, never wavering in his eye contact.

  “You’re saying Paul pushed Walter in?” Holding onto the tree, she pulled to a standing position. “Paul did it?” She wiped her hands against her jeans, flinching as the wet denim rubbed against the cuts and nicks in her palms.

  He nodded. “Yeah, because he told me to and I wouldn’t.” He let out a long breath. “By then, I realized what kind of man he was. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.” Jerry stared off into the distance. “None of this was supposed to happen.”

  “What was supposed to happen?” She kept her voice low, soothing almost. She needed to keep him talking, to build his trust in her. Yet, her mind wrapped around his confessions and forced her heart to give him the benefit of the doubt. He admitted to pushing Steve in the river and tripping Orson—why would he bother to lie about Walter? Because Walter had died? Katie flipped the ideas around in her head as he replied.

  “Paul said we were supposed to find out who leaked info to the FBI, just get a name so he could tell his boss.”

  “His boss? Paul is answering to someone else?”

  Jerry nodded. “Yeah, the guy we’ve been laundering the money for.” He straightened and leaned against the tree. “Paul had me call Carter and set up the trip, which I did. We were supposed to uncover who had been talking, that’s it. Steve was too new of a hire to be the one feeding info to the feds. Besides, can you see that little mousey dude being brave enough to play with the big boys?” He chuckled and shook his head. “The FBI had gotten too close, which meant that someone had tipped them off.”

  “I figured it wasn’t Carter, because, hey, he knew the score. That left Walter, Orson, and Hunter.” He lifted his shoulder and rubbed his chin against it. “I didn’t think it could be old Walter because he seemed too close to Carter to do anything to hurt the firm. Little brown-noser had dreams of taking over the business when Carter retired.”

  “So why kill Walter?”

  Jerry shook his head. “I don’t know. That’s when I realized maybe Paul had gotten different instructions from his boss than what he’d told me.”

  “And Carter?”

  “It was Paul. We were making our way back to the lean-to when he appeared from nowhere. He told me to take Orson and get outta there. I thought he intended to have words with Carter, give him some orders or something. Orson and I started moving.” He closed his eyes, shook his head, then opened his eyes to stare at the ground. “I heard Carter scream, and I knew. I knew.” He let out a long breath and glanced up at Katie. “By the time I got to Carter, Paul had already gone and Hunter, your brother and his girlfriend came crashing in.”

  Katie closed her eyes, replaying that day. She had rejected his affections and he’d stormed out of the lean-to. They’d heard Carter scream and rushed outside. Paul met her before Christian and the others had returned with Orson. She opened her eyes and stared at Jerry. It could have happened the way he told it.

  But, did it?

  After all, Jerry’s the one who’d kidnapped her and slapped her around.

  She opened her mouth to ask another question, when a yell erupted and thrashing bore down on them.

  A blur of a man running at full speed toward Jerry gave a guttural groan as he lowered his stance and thrust his shoulder into Jerry’s stomach.

  Katie covered her mouth and sagged against the tree.

  Hunter slammed into Jerry, tackling him. The gun sailed in the air, landing in the mud a good five feet from where the men wrestled.

  Jerry made a mad crawl toward the weapon. His fingers grazed the handle of the gun.

  Hunter grabbed Jerry’s ankle and jerked. Jerry grabbed for a hold, but the mud slid him back toward Hunter.

  Shoving to stand, Hunter spit in the mud. His body looked hard, quick, and lethal. Katie gasped as he stalked Jerry.

  The men faced each other, keeping a distance of about three feet between them as they circled one another.

  “Come on, Sands … bring it on.”

  “Just let me go, Malone. It’s none of your busines
s.” Jerry spat and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, inching toward the open area.

  “You’re scum. Oh, and you’re under arrest for the murders of Walter Thompson and Carter James, the attempted murder of Steve Smith, and the assault on Orson Toliver. Not to mention kidnapping charges as well as assaulting a federal agent. And that’s all before we get to the money laundering.” Hunter’s clenched fists raised to a fighting position.

  “Hunter, wait,” Katie cried.

  A strong hand gripped her shoulder and pulled her backward. She screamed as she lost her balance and fell against the person behind her.

  Chapter 23

  Hunter ignored Katie’s heart-wrenching cry—he had to trust Christian would look after his sister. If anything, the desperation in her tone made the adrenaline pump faster through his veins. Right now, he only had one thing on his mind … bringing down Jerry Sands, and he didn’t want to pull his sidearm to do it.

  “Might have guessed you’d come.” Jerry grunted as he took a quick glance at the gun.

  “You should’ve killed me when you had the chance.” Hunter took a step forward as Jerry took a step back. Every muscle in Hunter’s body tweaked into action. His stare never faltered from Jerry’s face.

  “You still don’t get it, do you? I’m not a killer!”

  “Tell that to Walter and Carter, man.”

  “I believe him, Hunter!” Katie’s words broke his concentration. Spinning on his heel, he stared at her struggling against her brother’s restraint. Hadn’t he told Christian to take her back to meet the others?

  “He took you hostage, Katie.”

  Jerry dove for the gun, but Hunter moved faster, grabbing Jerry. His face hit the mud with a splat, but he crawled forward. Hunter sprung to his feet and pounced toward Jerry, who’d almost reached the weapon.

  Hunter struck Jerry with the palm of his right hand—short, vicious, hard.

  The air filled with smell of blood, sweat, and fury.

  Jerry wobbled, then lunged for the gun a final time. He barely missed his target.