Trapped

by Sally Mason

  “Then let me go with you.”

  “No. You stay put.” I add more logs to the fire. “You can’t walk on that foot and will just slow me down. I’ll be back in no time.”

  As soon as I step outside, the freezing wind penetrates my Artic explorer outfit and chills me to the bone. With my hands buried deep inside my pockets, I trudge through the snow, my chin and mouth covered by the scarf. The snow is now a few inches deep with the ice buried beneath it, which gives me good traction. My strides are steady and I walk along at a good speed. My efforts keep me warm and sweat forms on my back when my steps turn into a jog.

  I can already make out the van’s shapes in the distance when a voice startles me. I take cover behind a tree. My eyes squint at the silhouette barely visible in the flickering glow of a flashlight, instinctively knowing that it’s Jed before muffled words drift my way. He is talking on his phone.

  “Look, this is the last message I’m leaving you. They’re both gone and the van is totaled. I have no clue where they are. I got rid of all the DNA evidence and wiped the cabin down for prints like you asked me to, but that’s it for me. I’ll pack up my stuff and disappear tonight, probably cross over into Canada. You better pray the cops won’t catch me, or this will turn ugly. Like I told you before, I’m not going to jail alone.”

  With a growl, the phone is tossed against a nearby tree before he turns away from the van and stomps down the hill until his frame is totally swallowed up by the darkness.

  This is my chance. I sprint toward the van, ignoring the burning stitch that rages in my side. The mist from my breath almost obstructs my vision. Squatting down next to the passenger door, I lean inside the van, fumbling around the area where Maisie was hiding. My fingertips run over the smooth cover of the phone and I fist pump.

  As I rise, I notice the signal is back—not strong, but enough to make a call. There must have been a network disruption from the storm earlier. With trembling fingers, I dial 911, waiting for the ringtone. My heart is racing in my chest while I hop from foot to foot, mumbling “Come on, come on, pick up” to myself.

  “Hang up the phone, honeybun.” The cold words chill every fiber in my body and beat the freezing wind tenfold.

  I slowly turn around and stare at Jed just as the operator’s voice fills my ear.

  “911—what’s your emergency?”

  I swallow hard, my eyes fixed on the blade of the hunting knife in his hand. It would slice through my throat like butter.

  “Hello, is anyone there?” the operator asks.

  Jed waves the knife around, his face contorted in a menacing frown. There’s no doubt that he will attack me as soon as I mutter the first word. With my thumb, I push the red button to end the call.

  “I always knew you’re smart,” he says, grinning. “Toss the phone over to me.”

  I oblige, my fists instinctively balling tightly. I purposely miss and the cell lands in the snow just in front of him. As soon as he bends down to pick it up, my foot flies forward. The tip of my boot finds its mark square on his chin, knocking him down. He shakes his head, his eyes unfocused. I kick at him again, this time in the general direction of his stomach.

  Just as before, his reflexes are fast—trained to perfection from years of fighting in the boxing ring. He catches my foot midair, both his hands wrapping around my ankle and twisting hard. I scream and lose my balance before my back hits the ground. The snow softens the impact, but it is still enough to take my breath away. I’m temporarily paralyzed, pain burning in my lungs and all down my back.

  Jed’s boot comes to rest in the center of my chest. “Do you know that I could just crush you like a cockroach?” He grins. “Though I wouldn’t mind having a little bit of fun just one last time.”

  I gaze at him through teary eyes. “You’re a nobody, Jed. How does it feel having to force yourself on a woman since there’s no girl who can even stomach being with you otherwise?”

  “Truthfully, you’re not even worth freezing my ass off out here.” A wicked smile plays on his lips. “Napoleon and I, we’ll find your friend Hallie since she can’t be far. She and that mutt are probably hiding in a cabin nearby.” He wiggles his brows. “And when we find her, I’ll make her pay for your smart mouth. I’ll tell Hallie it’s because of you when she screams for her mommy before I cut her throat.”

  Anger swells inside me like a volcano and my fingernails dig into the fabric of his jeans. He applies more pressure in response. I’m totally helpless, only able to whimper as I gasp for air.

  He tilts his head. “You know, honeybun, I’m not going to make this quick. I want to see the light go out in your eyes.” With a lazy flicker of his hand, he tosses the knife away.

  When he takes the boot off my chest, I seize the opportunity, my legs arching to push myself on my feet. I can’t find traction, my shoes slipping in the snow. It is just like treading water. By the time I’m able to lift myself inches of the ground, he is already on top of me.

  His hands wrap around my throat, his mouth right by my ear. “Rest in peace, honeybun.”

  As his breath warms my neck, cold chills blast through me. He starts to squeeze. With my oxygen supply cut off, my legs start to kick at the same time my fists pound on every available part of his body. A vicious grin is frozen on his face as his grip tightens more and more around my throat.

  My mouth opens and sucks in much-needed air, but I’m unable to transport any of the oxygen to my lungs. My eyes seem to bulge from their sockets. The dancing black spots in front of me multiply, the only sounds a steady flow of blood rushing in my ears that is soon overpowered by my racing heartbeat. A metallic taste floods my mouth as I continue to struggle for air.

  I have read that just before you die, your whole life replays in front of your eyes. It’s a chilling thought since I sure don’t want to be a witness to my own rape before departing from this earth. Yet what bothers me the most is that I will never find out who Napoleon is.

  As my strength dwindles, utter rage seethes inside me. My mind wants to live and finally take revenge, but my body is just not cooperating. I am weak, unable to fight the opponent who has tormented me for all this time. I feel myself going limp under Jed’s weight, and as the black spots dance faster and faster, I finally realize that this might be the end. That’s when my life starts rolling backward—just like you see in the movies.

  CHAPTER 24

  The bang echoing through the night sounds just like a broken exhaust pipe. Jed freezes. A gurgle erupts from his lips as he opens and closes his mouth, gasping for air. The pressure on my throat eases, and my own mouth opens wide, sucking in a deep breath.

  As another bang breaks through the darkness, Jed falls forward. His heavy body crushes me, knocking out the little bit of oxygen my lungs managed to absorb. I push against him, my legs kicking, but I’m so weak that he doesn’t move an inch. To my horror, something warm runs down my side. When my fingers brush over it, I realize it’s blood.

  A yelp escapes my throat and I struggle harder to free myself. Jed’s body seems to weigh a ton. His face is buried in the snow, his hair grazing my cheek, and the touch sends chills down my spine. My shrieks grow louder. Jed’s chest doesn’t move and I am trapped underneath him. The thought that he might be dead spreads in my head like wildfire. I fight the building nausea in the back of my burning throat, my shrill screams tearing through the tranquility of the night the only sound to overpower my thumping heart.

  Finally, the heavy burden is pulled off me and through my blurred vision, I find Finn staring down at me. My tears start to flow freely as soon as he wraps his arms around my shaking body.

  “He is dead,” a voice mutters next to me.

  The words make my head snap sideways and I gaze right into Jed’s glassy eyes. My stomach heaves. I clutch my hand over my mouth to keep the bile from spilling out before I meet Marcel’s gaze, who is squatting next to Jed’s still body. His hand runs over Jed’s face and forces the eyelids shut. I am grateful—though
those lifeless eyes will still haunt me.

  Marcel rises. “I’m gonna call the cops.”

  He fishes a cell from his back pocket and steps away, giving Finn and me some privacy.

  “Did Marcel shoot him?”

  Finn shakes his head. “No, Luke did.”

  It’s the first time I notice a third figure in the darkness, leaning against a tree. I try to get up and go to him, but Finn holds me back. “Give him a few minutes.”

  I wiggle out of his grip. “He’s my brother and he needs me.”

  My steps are heavy as I walk over to him. Luke’s face is streaked with tears and his lip trembles. He looks like he is about to faint. A rifle is by his feet.

  We embrace without uttering a single word and I guide him away from the gun, away from the dead body. In the sanctuary of the trees, I finally break the silence.

  “Thanks for saving my life.”

  His face is barely visible in the darkness. “I can’t believe I killed him.” His words break when a sob shakes his body.

  “It was either him or me. You shouldn’t blame yourself.”

  “I know.” His voice is laced with despair. “But I can’t help it. It feels wrong.”

  “Luke.”

  I reach for him and he finally snaps out of his trance. With the back of his hand, he wipes the wetness from his face before stroking my cheek. “How are you?”

  My whole body is sore, my throat on fire and my head pounding, but I don’t want to give him any more grief. “Alright, I guess.” A thousand questions zoom in my head. “How did you find me?”

  “Marcel has this GPS device that can track phones, and a few hours ago, he got a signal. He came up straight from Portland and picked Finn and me up. Luckily he drives like an absolute maniac or we probably wouldn’t have gotten here in time.”

  In that moment, sirens and lights break through the forest as five patrol cars slowly make their way toward the crashed van and Jed’s dead body.

  “We should talk to the cops, Luke.”

  I tug at his sleeve when his body goes rigid, his lips pressed together. He pushes himself to follow me as I walk back toward the crime scene, the cops already talking to Finn and Marcel.

  “Officer, there’s a second girl who has been abducted,” I say. “You need to send a car to get her.”

  The cop pulls out his walkie talkie. “Are you Kelsey Miller?”

  I nod.

  “What’s the other girl’s name?”

  “Hallie Garvey.” I hop from foot to foot, avoiding to look at Jed’s figure in the snow, while he is talking to someone on the radio. “Please, officer, hurry. She’s all alone and hurt.”

  He waves at one of his colleagues. “Can you tell him where she is?”

  I chew on my lip, trying to visualize the way in my mind, but my memory fails me. “She is at a cabin, but I honestly don’t know how to get there. It was dark. I can’t even remember if we passed any driveways. Can I please come along?”

  The two cops exchange a look. “But we need you back here for your statement. In the meantime, please confirm that none of these three men were involved in your abduction?” He swings his arm in a big circle, which could include every cop on the scene, but I am pretty sure he’s talking about my three heroes.

  “These guys saved my life, officer. They deserve a medal.”

  His eyebrows crease as his gaze travels to Marcel, who glares back at him with his arms folded across his chest.

  “I told you I had nothin’ to do with this. It was self-defense and I wasn’t even the shooter.” His chin points at Luke. “Ask him. He’s the rich white boy with the clean record, so I suppose you can trust his word.”

  All eyes land on Luke who shuffles his feet under the attention. “It’s true, officer. I shot Jed, but it was self-defense.”

  The officer rubs his chin. “Okay, I’ll take this for now. I need all your statements before you leave here tonight, and you need to remain within the state while this investigation is pending.” He turns to his colleague. “Ms. Miller will show you where Hallie Garvey is. She is the minor who went missing just before Christmas. I’ll call the FBI team so they can close this out on their end.”

  I trot behind the young cop to one of the patrol cars, wondering what just happened. For me, this matter is crystal clear, but the police don’t seem to share my opinion. The way the officer looked at Marcel almost gave me the impression that he thinks that Marcel is the criminal here and Jed the innocent victim.

  Still mulling over this injustice, I hardly notice that the car has started to move and is slowly driving down the forest path.

  “How far is it, ma’am?” the cop asks.

  I focus on the road. Walking in the dark, it seemed like an eternity but to my surprise, we pass the pillars to the driveway after only a couple of minutes.

  “It’s right there.” A prickling sensation spreads at the nape of my neck. Now I wish I hadn’t left Hallie behind. I know it is stupid since the cabin provides good shelter and she was too hurt to wander around in the snow, but my mouth still dries up like sandpaper. With every yard the car edges closer to the cabin, more muscles in my body tense.

  I jump out as soon as the car has come to a halt and storm up the steps to the porch, ignoring the cop’s warning shout. With one strong push, the door flies open. I stare into an empty room. Surprisingly, the lights are on, but there is no sign of Hallie or Maisie. A bowl of water is on the ground and the blanket that covered her is still warm from her body heat. The fire has been extinguished but for some glowing ashes.

  My gaze darts around the cabin, trying desperately to find a sign of her. “Hallie!” I rush to check the bathroom, but she isn’t there either. My fingers run through my hair, my mind not wanting to accept the horrific thought. What if Napoleon got her?

  Every part of me shakes in cold sweat when my knees give way and I reach for the sink to balance myself. Guilt washes over me, slicing into my heart. I should have never left her. If something happened to her, it will be my fault. Images of her being raped and screaming for my help twirl in my head, causing my stomach to twist. It takes all my effort not to break down and cry.

  I force myself to return to the living room where the cop is talking on the radio. With a raised finger, he quiets me. I stare at the ashes in the fireplace, replaying my earlier visit to the cabin. I should have checked the bedroom and made sure she was safe before I left. Hindsight is a wonderful thing, but no matter how often you wish you can turn back the clock, it never happens.

  “Okay, I put a search out for your friend”—the cop interrupts my sullen thoughts—“We’ll have roadblocks within the hour. With the storm, it’s the best we can do.”

  I give him a crooked smile—he has no idea who he is dealing with. In an hour, Napoleon will have slipped through the cracks. I fall onto the couch and bury my face in my hands, hot tears caught by my fingers. My head feels heavy, my body aching every time I flinch a muscle. I would love nothing more than to lie down and allow for exhaustion to take over, but my mind is racing at a hundred miles per hour. I am tired, buzzed, and utterly miserable, all at the same time. With my legs and arms tingling painfully, there is no way I could go to sleep.

  “We should go back,” the cop says.

  When I stand up, the room starts to spin and my knees buckle.

  The cop is by my side and lowers me back down on the couch. “Watch it there, ma’am.” He frowns, observing the cut on my forehead. “That looks pretty bad. You might have a concussion. How did this happen?”

  For a second, I’m taken aback. Didn’t he see the crash site? Then I remember I was with Luke in the woods when the police first arrived, so he probably didn’t make the connection. “I was in a car crash.” I lean back, fighting the nausea in my throat that seems to be getting worse the more I talk.

  “Are you in any pain, ma’am?”

  I gaze at him through hooded eyes. “I couldn’t tell you one part of my body that doesn’t hurt.” My hand cl
utches over my mouth when bile rises, but I manage to force it back down.

  He clicks his tongue like it’s my fault that he didn’t ask earlier, mumbling something under his breath before raising the walkie talkie to his lips. “Ten fifty-seven to my location.”

  There is a brief crackle. “Ten four, over.”

  I can’t help but chuckle. The whole scenario reminds me of some bad police soap. A sharp dagger stabs me right in between my ribs in response, warning me to stay put.

  “I called an ambulance.”

  I feel obliged to acknowledge his efforts with a smile—after all, it’s not his problem that I feel like total crap, and he just tries to be helpful. In silence, we wait, the ticking grandfather clock on the wall counting down the minutes. The monotone sound stretches my frazzled nerves to the limit.

  Finn and Marcel arrive at the same time as the ambulance.

  “Where is Luke?” I ask while the paramedics carry me out on a stretcher.

  “They took him down to the station,” Finn hurries along, his fingers entangled with mine.

  “Why? Did they arrest him?”

  Another horrific scenario unfolds in my mind, this time of Luke in jail for murder, his whole life destroyed. Roy told me when Jed got off that it doesn’t matter if someone is guilty or innocent—the courts only care about what the prosecutor can prove. What would happen if no one believes that Luke only shot Jed to save me?

  Finn’s thumb brushes over the back of my hand. “Don’t worry about it. It’s routine, I think.” The forced grin on his face is neither comforting nor convincing.

  “Can you call his dad? I’m sure he wants to go down there as his lawyer.”

  He squeezes my hand. “Already done.” When the paramedics lift me into the ambulance, his voice pleads, “Can I ride along?”

  The guy squints at him. “Are you two related?”

  Finn grimaces as he shakes his head.

  “Sorry, dude, can’t allow it.”

  Finn steps aside and lets go of my hand. “I’m right behind you,” he mutters.