When the Wolf Prowls

by Vanessa Prelatte

  “You said you taught her how to shoot a rifle?”

  “Yes. I wasn’t worried about Kit. She’s very cautious, not an easy person to fool. She must not have considered the person who took her and Zoe a threat. If she had, she’d have pulled out the rifle and defended herself. She’s an excellent shot.”

  “The person you’re describing to me sounds like she’s a very strong individual,” Dawn said. “That’s good. That will increase her chances for survival. Now, what about her temperament? Can you describe that for me?”

  “Her temperament? What do you mean by that?”

  “Sorry,” Dawn apologized. “Let me reword that. How do you think Kit would respond under threat? Like, say, if someone were to pull a gun on her?”

  Red scratched his head and narrowed his eyes in concentration as he considered the question. “Kit would keep her cool,” he hypothesized. “She wouldn’t panic or do anything stupid. She’d probably go along with the person who was threatening her until she could figure out a way to escape.”

  Red broke off and gave Dawn and Sokoto each a long stare in turn. “You need to find her. You have to find her,” he exhorted them.

  After the interview was finished, Serge and Marj Ballentine went with Red to make arrangements for Zoe’s body to be shipped home to Iowa as soon as the coroner released it. Before they left, they provided the team with recent pictures of Kit and Zoe. Dawn and Sokoto then sat down with Vettakor, Prentiss, and Noritaki to update them on the information they had gleaned from Zoe’s parents and Kit’s stepfather.

  “Red is right,” Dawn mused. “Whoever Kit and Zoe ran into, he didn’t appear to be a threat to them.”

  “How do we know he’s working alone? Maybe he has a partner. What if it was a woman who abducted them?” Noritaki ventured.

  “That’s a thought. But the kind of violence done to the two women reads male to me, not female. So what kind of man would they have trusted?”

  “I hate to bring it up, but they would have trusted a law enforcement officer,” Prentiss said.

  “Or a family-man. Someone who had his wife and kids with him,” Vettakor interjected.

  Dawn dragged a hand through her hair. “We need to contact the police along the route that Kit and Zoe traveled the last day they were heard from. They were doing the tourist thing, right? We’ll have the police show their pictures around, see if anyone remembers them. When was the last time anyone saw them, and where? It’s essential that we pinpoint their last known location. Once we have that, we can work with the state and local police, have them blanket the area with Devlin’s sketch of the perp. Maybe we’ll get lucky and find someone who spotted him with Kit and Zoe.”

  “Even if we get lucky, there’s precious little chance that we’ll find Kit Blakewood alive,” Prentiss said.

  “I know. The odds are against it. The perp is on the run, however. Maybe that will stack the odds a little more in our favor.”

  Chapter 14

  The day had started out auspiciously. He had awakened to clear skies and brilliant sunshine. After a meager breakfast, he had started on his way again. The temperature had climbed steadily throughout the morning, to the point where he had thought about removing the light jacket he was wearing over his borrowed clothes. He changed his mind, however, when the clouds started rolling in. Soon it was pouring down rain, and he had to pick his way carefully as the trail he was following through the woods quickly turned to mud. He began looking for a place to take shelter from the storm, realizing that continuing on through unfamiliar terrain in such weather was foolishness.

  He started downhill, looking for a way out of the woods as lightning crackled through the sky. It had been drilled into him since childhood not to take shelter among trees during a thunderstorm. For one thing, if the lightning struck a nearby tree, he could be hit by a falling branch or even by the entire tree if the damage was severe enough to knock it down. For another, he had been taught that even if the tree remained standing after a strike, the electrical current could leave it and jump over to any human being standing too close to it.

  As he made his way down hill, the trees began to thin out, and he breathed a sigh of relief. What he saw next caused him to catch his breath, however. For he had emerged from the woods at the edge of a high ridge, and the terrain all around it was soft and unstable. He took a step backward, trying to regain firmer footing, but it was already too late. The ground beneath him dissolved into a river of mud. He threw himself backward at the moment he lost his footing and landed his rear end. As he slid down the slope, he tried to break his fall by digging his fingers into the muddy soil, seeking some sort of handhold. Encountering nothing firm to grip, he continued his downward plunge, landing with a thud at the very bottom of the bluff.

  Dazed and confused, he sat where he was for a moment, taking stock of his situation. He was relieved to discover that although he was plastered with mud, he had survived the fall with only some minor scrapes and bruises. The gun, which he had tucked into the waistband of his jeans, had been covered by the folds of the shirt he was wearing and had also survived the fall in good working order, he ascertained.

  Picking himself up and shaking himself off, he realized that the plastic bag containing his small hoard of belongings had been torn from his body during the fall. He stood back and scanned the slope down which he had fallen, finally spotting the bag to his left, about three quarters of the way down the incline. Although the loops above the knot had been torn away, he saw to his relief that the bag itself appeared to be intact. He would not have to go prospecting in the mud for its contents, at least.

  Scrambling back up the slope, he snagged the bag just before the muddy soil oozed away beneath him again and deposited him once again at the bottom of the bluff.

  He had managed to keep his balance and stay on his feet this time. Standing at the foot of the steep hill, he realized that he would not be able to clamber back to the top of the ridge. The ground was just too soft and the path too slippery.

  Turning around, he surveyed the area into which he had fallen. It took him only a minute to realize that he had tumbled into a box canyon. Its steep side walls terminated headwards at a vertical cliff on his right. There was no exiting the canyon that way.

  He looked in the opposite direction. A narrow carpet of boulder-strewn wheatgrass met his gaze. He could not see an exit from the canyon that way, but that was the course he had to follow.

  He had to get home, and quickly. It had been forty-eight hours now, and the food and water were probably running out. He didn’t care that much about the females – they were replaceable. But not Danny. The boy was a different matter altogether. He had to get back soon – because of Danny.

  Chapter 15

  Danny sat back on his haunches, satisfied with the progress he’d made. Being locked in the cellar for a couple of days had actually benefited him. Left alone, secure in the knowledge that there was no chance of getting caught, Danny had been able to redouble his efforts to carve out the escape route. And now he had finally succeeded.

  He had realized from the start that the fact that the cellar wasn’t finished was to his advantage. Earthen walls could be tunneled through, as long as one had the proper tools and the willpower to tackle such a daunting task. But willpower was something that Danny had in abundance. And he had used some old garden utensils that had been stashed in the cellar as his tools. The trowel and the small metal hand rake were not ideal, but he had made do with them.

  In order to hide the tunnel entrance, Danny had pulled an old wooden desk that had belonged to his grandfather away from the wall and begun digging behind it.

  At first he had worried that the monster would come down and spot the evidence of his bolt-hole, but he had soon realized that he did not have to worry. The only time the monster had ever attempted to descend into the cellar, he had only made it half-way down the stairs before sinking down on one of the steps and beginning to shake. He had beat a quick retreat back up the st
eps, and never ventured down there again. Claustrophobia, Danny had concluded.

  Fortunately, closed-in spaces didn’t bother Danny at all. He crawled through the tunnel, trowel in hand. Only a thin layer of turf remained at the top. Sticking the utensil through, he poked a hole into the turf and saw daylight for the first time in nearly forty-eight hours. Cautiously, he widened the hole. When it was large enough, he poked his head out, looked around, and confirmed that the monster’s car was still missing.

  Reversing his course, he backed his way out of the short tunnel and into the cellar again. Making his way over to the corner where his sister was sitting, he took her by the hand and said, “Come on, Sherri. We’re getting out of here.” He tugged on her hand, and Sherri obediently got to her feet. But she balked when he led her to the tunnel entrance. Whipping her hand out of his, she placed it behind her back and shook her head. Although she was only six years old, she could be stubborn, as her brother knew well.

  “It will be okay,” Danny coaxed gently. “You can do it. Come on, Sherri. You don’t want to stay down here alone, do you?”

  That did the trick. Sherri stopped resisting. He got her down on her hands and knees and gave her rear end a gentle shove. Sherri obediently began crawling through the hole. He was right behind her.

  When they reached the end of the tunnel, Danny gave Sherri a boost out onto the grass, and then he followed. The place where they emerged was in the back yard. Putting his hand to his lips, Danny tugged his sister’s hand and moved behind a tree. From there, they could see the road that led up to the house. Nothing was moving, so he whispered, “Wait here. Don’t move unless you see the car on the road. If you do, run and get me. You understand?”

  Sherri nodded, but kept hold of his hand. He gently loosened her grasp and told her, “I’m going to get some stuff for us from the house. Don’t worry. I’ll be right back.”

  Cautiously, he approached the back door and swung it open. Moving through the mud room, he entered the kitchen. Without much hope, he searched the house, looking for any trace of his mother. After he’d looked through all the rooms on the ground floor, he went upstairs and checked the bedrooms. All were open except the guest room and Uncle Luke’s room, which were locked. There was no sign of his mother.

  In his parents’ bedroom, he looked out the window. From there, he could see down the road for almost a quarter of a mile. Still nothing. Satisfied, he went to his dad’s closet. With a punch in his gut, he realized that his dad’s things had been cleared out. Only the monster’s clothes were hanging in there now.

  It was a setback, but he knew what to do next. He went to his dad’s dresser and reached underneath. Sure enough, he could feel the emergency keys, still taped to the bottom of the dresser, just where his dad had left them.

  Keys in hand, he went back to Uncle Luke’s room and unlocked the door. Entering the room, he walked over to the dresser and checked inside. With a stab of disappointment, he realized that all the drawers were empty.

  Next, he walked over and opened the closet. He gave a sigh of relief when he saw that here, everything was as it should be. Uncle Luke’s things were still there, just as he had left them.

  Reaching down, Danny groped behind Uncle Luke’s long winter coat in the back of the closet. His heart leapt when his fingers curled around what he sought. Kneeling down and using both hands, he pulled out Uncle Luke’s big pack, the one he used for long camping trips. Opening it, Danny did a quick survey of the contents and was satisfied that it contained almost everything he and Sherri would need.

  He extricated a canteen from the pack, went into the bathroom, and filled it up with water. Across the hall, in his own room, he retrieved his backpack. He went over to Sherri’s room and gathered up her small backpack as well. After a quick look out of his parents’ window, he went down into the kitchen again.

  He would just collect what he needed and get out, he decided. He made his way to the pantry. Ignoring the shelves of staple foods in the front of the pantry, he concentrated on the camping supplies in the back. Energy bars, canned and freeze-dried foods that would last them long enough for the journey he had planned. He put quite a bit in his own backpack and a smaller quantity in Sherri’s. Then he shoved a few extra energy bars into his pockets. There were a couple of extra canteens hanging from hooks on the back wall of the pantry. He took them down, went over to the sink, filled the canteens with water, and placed them in the packs.

  Carrying the two packs, he deposited them in the front hallway, just to the right of the front door.

  He had left Uncle Luke’s pack at the foot of the stairs. Opening it, he gave a grunt of satisfaction. One of the first things the monster had done was remove all the weapons from the house and the garage. No chance of getting his hands on a shotgun or a rifle, he thought regretfully. The monster had also removed all the knives from the kitchen and any other sharp tools he could find. But he hadn’t been thorough enough, Danny thought grimly, as he pulled a wicked-looking hunting knife out of Uncle Luke’s pack.

  Before going back up the stairs, he picked up one of the canteens by its strap and slung it on his back. Then he went back up and unlocked the door to the spare bedroom. Entering the room, he saw the girl. Not the redhead – the blonde. She was tied to the bed, barely able to move. When she saw the knife in Danny’s hand, her eyes widened with terror.

  Moving over to the side of the bed, Danny used the knife to quickly slash through her bonds. When she didn’t move immediately, he grasped her by one arm and helped her to sit up. Setting the knife down on the end table, he held the canteen to her lips. She drank the water gratefully. When she had finished, she managed to croak, “Do you have any food?”

  In response, Danny reached into his pocket and handed her a couple of energy bars. She scarfed those down as well, gazing at Danny in wonder the whole time.

  Danny returned her gaze steadily and said, “I’m taking my sister and walking out of here. If you want to live, come with me.”

  Chapter 16

  Kit watched in wonder as the boy turned and moved toward the door. He motioned at the long dress Kit was wearing. Pointing to the closet, he said, “You need to change back into your own clothes. Be as quick as possible.” He turned and left the room.

  Kit had finished dressing and was reaching for her shoes and her jacket when the boy returned and shook his head.

  “You’re going to need boots, and a warmer coat,” he said. “Follow me.”

  Danny led the way down the stairs and to the closet next to the front door. Reaching in, he pulled out his mother’s boots and handed them to Kit.

  “Try them on and see if they fit,” he instructed.

  Kit glanced at the size and said, “They should fit fine. They’re the same size that I wear.”

  After she pulled the boots on, Danny handed her his mother’s winter jacket. Reaching back into the closet, he pulled out a smaller jacket and a pair of child-size boots. Picking up a large pack, he strapped it on his back. He looped a smaller backpack over his arm, then pointed to a third pack.

  “You need to put that on,” he informed Kit. “Be careful with it – it’s got most of the food in it.”

  Food! Even after eating the energy bars, Kit was starving. She started to look inside, but Danny stopped her.

  “No,” he said. “We have to get out of here now. We can stop later and eat something.”

  As he opened the front door, Kit put her hand on his arm urgently.

  “Wait,” she said. “What about my friend? And your mother? Where are they? We need to take them with us.”

  “We can’t,” Danny said shortly.

  “What do you mean, we can’t?”

  “I mean that they’re dead.”

  At her look of shock, Danny said, “He killed them. He pretty much admitted it to me. Now he’s gone off somewhere to bury them. That’s why he left.”

  “You’re absolutely sure?”

  “Do you think I’d leave without my mother i
f I weren’t?”

  “No. I guess not.”

  “Then come on. We have to get Sherri and start walking.”

  “Sherri – that’s your sister, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “My name is Kit. What’s yours?”

  “Danny,” he said briefly. “Danny Coalbank.”

  Without another word, Danny headed to the backyard, Kit hard on his heels. When he reached the tree where Sherri was hiding, he called her name softly. Sherri emerged from behind the tree. Her hair hung in a tangled auburn cloud around her face and down her back. Fear and suspicion lurked in the dark pools of her eyes. She gave Kit only a brief glance before ducking behind her brother’s back.

  Danny sidestepped and pulled Sherri in front of him again. Getting down on his haunches, he met his sister’s eyes.

  “It’s okay,” he said softly. “Here, Sherri – Put on your coat and your boots. Then I’m going to help you put your backpack on. As soon as you’re ready, we’re getting out of here.”

  Sherri did as he said, but her gaze remained fixed on Kit the entire time.

  Realizing that his sister needed to be persuaded to accept Kit’s presence, Danny said, “She’s coming with us. We can’t leave her behind. He’ll hurt her. You know he will.”

  Sherri seemed to accept that argument, for she withdrew her eyes from Kit’s face and allowed Danny to help her into her boots, jacket, and backpack.

  When Sherri was ready, Danny took her hand and set a brisk pace toward a copse of trees lining the back yard.

  “Wait!” Kit called. “The road’s in the opposite direction.”

  “We’re not going that way.”

  “Where are we going, then?”

  Danny swung his arm toward the mountains in the distance. “Up,” he said succinctly.