by Sharon Dunn
Heather stood up, too, studying the partially snowy landscape. She spotted a yellow object attached to the branch of a tree and ran toward it. She pulled the fabric free of the branches, her chest tightening. The fabric was from a man’s bandanna.
She glanced up just as Zane disappeared into another part of the forest. Her feet pounded the earth as she followed after him, stepping through patches of crunchy snow and into the trees. The canopy of evergreens cut the light by half as she stepped deeper into the forest. Her breath caught when she glanced down at the ground. Dribbles and several huge circles of dried blood spotted the snow.
Her chest felt like it was in a vice. She tried to tell herself that the blood could be from an animal—but there had been no sign of teeth or claw marks on the belongings they’d spotted. The backpack and bandanna looked like they’d been discarded by human hands.
Zane burst through the trees. His expression was like none she’d ever witnessed before. Eyebrows knit in anguish, his skin the color of rice. Eyes filled with fear. He glanced over his shoulder and then back at her.
“What is it?” She stepped toward where he’d looked.
He grabbed her arm at the elbow. “You don’t need to see this.”
She pulled away, not able to let go of the idea that she had to know what was going on in these mountains. She darted toward where Zane had come from.
She found the man’s body propped up against the tree. The body had not started to decompose, so he must have been here a short time. The bloodstain on his chest revealed that he had been stabbed.
Light-headed, she whirled away, slamming into Zane’s chest. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her away from the gruesome sight.
Her mind reeled. Murderers. She’d been so focused on running for her life that reality hadn’t sunk in until she saw the dead man. They were trapped on this mountain with bloodthirsty killers.
She rested for a moment in the security of Zane’s arms, trying to calm herself. But her mind raced at a thousand miles an hour. She fought to get a deep breath.
She could barely get the words out. “What happened...there? Did they kill him so they could get his stuff?” She pulled away from him, then paced back and forth gripping her somersaulting stomach. “Do they have so little regard for life?”
He stepped toward her. “Calm down.”
“Calm down?” Her words splintered as they spilled from her lips. Her legs felt like were made of rubber. She’d only come up here to spread her father’s ashes. How had things gotten to this point where she was fighting to get away from men who acted worse than animals?
He reached out for her.
She darted away, shaking her head. “What is going on here?”
“Heather, please.” He stepped toward her.
“You knew these men. You were one of them.” Really, if Zane hadn’t told her that he used to be under the influence of someone like Willis, she never would have guessed it. Was it really possible a man could change so radically?
“I am nothing like them.” Zane’s voice was tinged with anger. “Not anymore. And this is way over the top. We never did anything like that when I was with Willis.”
“It looks like they are getting more desperate or bloodthirsty, then. What is driving them?” Her voice was barely above a whisper. Her mind clouded as a fear she had never felt before invaded her awareness. She turned nearly a full circle. The killers were out there waiting to attack again, looking for the chance to take her and Zane. But after they used them for whatever they had in mind, would she and Zane die, too?
“Heather, please don’t give up.” He stepped toward her and cupped his hands on her shoulders. “We need to get back to town so the authorities can come up here and deal with these men.”
She nodded slowly. He was right. They could not stop fighting or give in to fear.
Zane took a step back from her. “I’m going to check to see if there’s any ID on that man. His family deserves to have closure.” His voice was filled with compassion. “There have been no reports of missing hikers that I’ve seen. He couldn’t have been up here for long. The family might not expect him back for weeks. You don’t need to come with me. Just stay right here.”
She closed her eyes and turned away, unable to get the image of the dead man out of her head. She crossed her arms over her chest and paced in a huge circle, trying to wipe the picture from her brain.
She pushed aside the despair that threatened to pull her into a dark place. She stared up at the blue sky, where snowflakes were drifting down. A memory that had been long buried floated to the surface of her mind. She was outside a cabin with her father, laughing as they caught snowflakes on their tongues. How strange that she hadn’t remembered that until now. The memory comforted her at a time when anxiety threatened to rule her.
A rustling to the side of her caught her attention. She turned, expecting to see Zane. A man came at her so suddenly that there was no chance for her to scream or fight. She didn’t even have time to register what he looked like before she was knocked to the ground and a hood was put over her head.
* * *
Zane put the ID he’d found of the man in his pocket, pausing a moment to say a prayer for the family. His thoughts were interrupted as the engine noise of the ATVs filled the forest.
The pursuers had found them. He needed to get to Heather and fast.
He dare not call out and give away his position. He saw flashes of color and motion through the trees, then he caught a glimpse of a man pointing in his direction. He’d been spotted.
He was able to guess at where Heather had been when a patch of snow revealed her boot print. But where was she now?
Two armed men surged through the trees. Zane slipped behind some brush before they had a chance to get a shot off. He burst up from his hiding place as they drew near. He sprinted, hoping to lose the men in the labyrinth of the forest. The noise behind him increased. More men must have fallen in with the two he’d seen. He had to find a way to shake them so he could circle back and get to Heather.
His heart beat hard in his chest as he ran from one hiding place to the next. The sound of the men yelling commands at each other fell on his ears. They were closing in on him from all sides.
He ran toward higher ground, pushing past a rocky mountainside. When he glanced over his shoulder, he spotted men and ATVs snaking through the trees, converging around him.
Where was Heather? Had she been smart enough to find a hiding place that their pursuers hadn’t spotted? It didn’t seem likely—these men were carefully trained, and Heather lacked their knowledge of the area. So why hadn’t he heard or seen her running, too? He scanned the landscape, not seeing her anywhere.
Three of them men on foot closed in on him, making quick progress up the steep hillside.
Zane dived behind a large boulder and lined up a shot with his pistol. He fired three shots in quick succession. The men gaining ground on him fell flat to the ground to avoid his gunfire.
Zane hurried farther up the hillside before the men had time to recover. If they did want him alive, they’d be cautious about shooting at him, which gave him a slight advantage as long as they were at a distance. But he couldn’t let them get close enough to grab him. It was essential that he widen the gap between them, even as his leg muscles strained on the steep incline.
He glanced over his shoulder. The ATVs had slowed, and the men on foot were losing enthusiasm as well. Zane hurried up the remainder of the incline until he reached a high point that allowed him a view of much of the valley below. The ATVs still traversed the countryside but the infantry must have given up for now. The men on the machines would only be able to get so far up the hill before they’d have to get off and walk.
He spotted some ATVs headed away from him. He squinted to make out details. His chest squeezed tight when he r
ecognized Heather’s pink gloves, which stood out from her camo outfit. She had a hood over her head.
Heart racing, he jumped from the rock where he’d been perched. He watched the direction the vehicles were headed. Willis must have a camp farther up the mountain than the base Zane remembered. It would take him hours to track them on foot but he had to try.
Aware that the hills were probably still crawling with pursuers trying to earn their stripes, he moved across the terrain on full alert.
The thought of anything bad happening to Heather made him run even faster.
He heard the distant clang of an ATV. He glanced through the trees down the hillside. One machine off by itself, one rider. He could take him and get the transport he needed.
Zane ran out into the open where the ATV rider would see him. The rider turned in an arc and headed toward Zane, kicking up dirt with his wheels. Using himself as bait was risky, but it was the only way to lure the rider and get the machine.
Zane studied the landscape for a good ambush spot and hurried toward it. The noise of the ATV grew louder in his ears as he pressed on toward the high point where he could hide. The trick was to be seen enough so the rider wouldn’t give up, but to hide without him knowing it. He was able to slip out of view of the rider.
Though he could not see the machine, he could hear it. The echo off the mountains made it hard to track exactly where his pursuer was. He pushed through to an open area just as rider and vehicle came into view. This was not going as planned. He’d hoped to be hiding and ambush the man. The man twisted the throttle and made a beeline for Zane.
Zane stumbled. The machine sounded like it was on top of him as he struggled to get to his feet. He could hear the engine idling as hands grabbed the back of his coat collar.
This was not a kid. He was dealing with a full-grown man. Zane spun around, but the man was able to land the first blow across his jaw.
With his face stinging from the impact, Zane swung hard with a left then a right, knocking the man on the ground.
He knew this man from seven years ago. His name was John. He’d been just a kid then, like Zane. Now his face looked leathery and weathered, and he was clearly a seasoned fighter. John jumped to his feet and reached out toward Zane.
Zane dodged the intended blow and hit the other man twice in the stomach. His opponent doubled over. Zane ran toward the idling ATV and jumped on, revving it and shifting into gear. He took off with a jerk—but he wasn’t quite fast enough to evade John, who managed to grab hold of the back of Zane’s shirt.
Zane felt his collar pull tight as he increased speed. Zane shifted into a higher gear, still struggling for breath. The pressure on his neck let up.
He shifted again and headed up the makeshift trail, looking for the ATV tracks that would lead him to the camp. When he glanced over his shoulder, John was just getting to his feet. At least he’d lost that guy, but it didn’t mean he was in the clear.
The members of Willis’s cult used radios to communicate. It would probably be just a matter of minutes before another pursuer zeroed in on Zane’s location. He thought about taking a more roundabout route to where the camp might be, but time was precious if he was going to get Heather out of danger. He could not spare the minutes a detour would cost him.
He sped up. The terrain was more overgrown than he remembered it. This wasn’t a part of the mountain where he took hunters, which made it a high probability for Willis’s camp. He pushed aside any thought of something bad happening to Heather. Thinking the worst could cripple him mentally. He needed to focus on what needed to be done. He had to assume she had not been harmed and that he’d be able to free her.
He knew, though, that the challenges were growing. Willis had started sending his more experienced and older men. That meant he was upping his game, and it meant he saw Zane as more of a threat than he’d predicted. If Heather was taken to camp, Willis would know to keep her well guarded. Getting her out wouldn’t be easy.
He’d cross that bridge when he came to it.
Zane pushed the ATV through the thick undergrowth and across bumpy open areas. He rode until he saw smoke rising off in the distance. That had to be the camp. Reluctantly, he got off the ATV, taking the time to cover it with branches. He would be more likely to avoid detection if he moved in on foot. With God’s help, he’d be able to free Heather and come back to the ATV to make a quick escape.
That was the plan anyway. He prayed that everything would fall into place and they both wouldn’t end up dead at the hands of Willis’s men.
SIX
Heather struggled to take in a deep breath as the fabric of the hood pressed against her face with each intake of air. She couldn’t adjust the position of the hood—not with the way her wrists had been bound with rope in front of her. Finally, the jostling on the back of the ATV ceased. The engine clicked off and the rider dismounted.
She shivered involuntarily, listening to the noise around her. She heard footsteps close by and whispering farther away, a conversation that sounded urgent even though it was hushed.
Then she heard the distinct noise of a 12-gauge shotgun being ratcheted back and forth, the lethal cartridge sliding into the chamber.
Her back stiffened and her breath caught like a bubble in her throat. For a long moment, all she heard was the pulsing of her own heartbeat. She squeezed her eyes shut.
Dear God, if they are going to shoot me, let it happen quickly. Don’t draw this thing out.
The prayer caught her by surprise. She hadn’t prayed to God with such intensity since she was a little girl, on the day her mother had loaded her into the car and pulled out of the gravel driveway, leaving behind Stephan and their life as a family forever. The memory had been buried all these years. But now the image of her father standing in the driveway as she looked out the back window burned through her mind. That had been a sort of death, too.
Several footsteps crunched through the snow, jerking her out of the emotions and images of the past.
“What are you doing?” said a male voice off to her side. His voice was filled with accusation.
She turned her head in the direction of the voice, wondering if he was talking to her.
“I was just having some fun. What good is she without the guy anyway?” said the second voice.
“We will catch Zane.” The first voice sounded as though his teeth were gritted. “Now put the shotgun away. She’ll be useful to us anyway.”
Heather let out a gust of air. She’d be spared...for now. Though the word useful sent chills down her spine. She’d seen how violent these men and boys could be. What did they have in store for her?
The conversation between the two men was clear enough that she was able to pick up pieces of the exchange. She learned that Zane was still out there and that Heather had been blindfolded from the start so she would have no idea where the camp was located. The older-sounding man who had stayed her execution seemed to be in charge. Was this the man Zane had told her about?
The camp fell silent again. She suspected the two men had wandered away. She could hear other sounds, muffled whispers and even laughter and the crackle of a campfire some distance from her.
Footsteps approached her. She sensed someone close just before the hood was yanked from her head. She’d guess that the man in front of her was maybe twenty years of age, though it was hard to tell because all these men clearly spent most of their life out battling the elements.
He leaned close to her, and she bristled. He was in desperate need of a shower. His hair was past his shoulders, and his beard hit his chest. She couldn’t distinguish much more about his features because of the profuse amount of facial hair.
“Get off of there,” he said. The voice was the same as the man who had stayed her execution.
Dismounting the ATV was a bit of a balancing challenge with
her arms tied in front of her. The man held out a hand and steadied her by cupping her elbow. The gesture seemed out of character for a man who appeared so uncivilized.
She scanned the area without turning her neck so he wouldn’t realize she was taking in her surroundings. Why risk getting the hood put back on her head? Three tents placed close together stood not too far from a campfire. She could make out the shadowed figures of men as they stood back from the flames. One of the men stepped closer to the fire, revealing a sneering face.
Her chest clamped tight. Though she could only see one man overtly leering at her, she could feel eyes on her, taking her apart.
Had it been God’s mercy to spare her life or was she about to face a violence she might not ever forget? The man with the long hair pointed toward the center tent.
“Go in there.” He lifted his chin at one of the men loitering around the fire. “Get some grub for her.”
At least they were going to feed her. Maybe that was a good sign. Though her stomach was clenched so tight she doubted she’d be able to keep any food down. She stepped into the tent.
“Sit down,” the man with the long hair commanded.
She settled down on an animal skin. Several other animal skins, a sleeping bag and a crossbow populated the rest of the space. The man with the long hair never took his eyes off her, which only fed her anxious thoughts.
She swallowed, trying to produce some moisture in her mouth.
The man grinned at her. “Relax, you’re okay for now.” His voice seemed genuine, not menacing.
A younger man poked his head in the tent, holding a piece of wood that contained piles of food. “Here, sir.”
The long-haired man took the makeshift plate. He sat it beside Heather, then used a knife to cut Heather’s hands free.
“Eat up,” he said.
She stared down at the food, which looked to be some kind of cooked red meat. She didn’t see a fork. She lifted the first morsel and put in in her mouth. The meat was surprisingly tender and almost sweet tasting.