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Captured: Hunted Love #3

Page 12

by Aden Lowe


  A tense, eerie quiet settled over the Hell Raiders as the riders passed them only a few hundred yards away. One of the horses raised its head and looked directly at them, but the woman on its back didn't bother checking. A full five minutes afterward, the Raiders released the collective breath they held. They stayed quiet, wary and ready to get to the action.

  And they waited. And waited. Kellen continued to read, watching for the riders to pass the fallen boulder he'd chosen as a landmark for the safe zone. Beyond that boulder, the Raiders could block the trail back before the horses had a chance to reach the property line. It was just a technicality, really, but he agreed with Blackwell that Barger and the woman should be taken on his land. It presented less risk of anyone figuring out what happened and coming after them.

  After about forty-three years, the last horse passed the boulder. Kellen waited a full five minutes, then stood, nodded to the others, and headed for his ATV. They all followed suit, careful to stay quiet and preserve the element of surprise until the last possible moment.

  The ATVs all purred to life with minimal throttle and rolled as quietly as possible toward the trail. When they reached it, Kellen led them at full speed toward the horses. The race began. The ATVs managed to get in front and the horses spun and galloped back toward Holt land, but Hack pulled three Raiders away from the main group to intercept and turn them back.

  In a quick switch of tactics, the horses headed for rougher ground to the east where the ATVs would have to go slower. Trip and two others split away and blocked them.

  The horses spun and headed back, deeper into Blackwell land. Kellen gave the signal to surround them and bring it to a halt. Finally, they were close enough for him to determine Barger rode the black horse, just as he'd expected. Of course the bastard would have the biggest, baddest horse in the bunch.

  The horses circled and sort of milled around, progress halted. Barger's horse reared and made a threatening noise. Damn, Kellen hadn't realized a horse could be that intimidating. The ATVs came in closer, engines gunning. These horses didn't freak the hell out, instead standing their ground other than hopping around a little.

  A handgun appeared in Barger's hand and a shot rang out, punching a hole through the fiberglass fender of Trip's machine. Time to wrap shit up. Kellen drew his own gun and waited for the rest of the Raiders to arm themselves. He put a harmless warning shot out there, then deliberately aimed at the other man. He wanted Barger in one piece for the moment and didn't give a damn about the other one.

  The other guy's back presented a good target, but Kellen hated to shoot someone in the back. So he waited. Another shot rang out, and the only Prospect in the group yelped a little as blood spread over the sleeve of his t-shirt and down his arm. Flesh wound apparently, since the prospect still used the arm to steer his machine. Bleeding for the club would go a long way toward getting the kid his full patch.

  The second man turned, finally presenting a proper target, even as he aimed his own weapon at another four-wheeler.

  Out of patience, Kellen stopped his ATV and leveled his gun at the man. Dude would be nothing more than dead weight, literally, so he might as well go for a kill shot. He adjusted his aim, took a breath, and pulled. The guy's horse threw its head up and jumped around a little.

  Everything froze for a second as the man tumbled off his horse and hit the ground. Kellen pressed the advantage and turned his gun on one of the women. "Barger, drop the gun and get your hands up, or I'll drop her too." His shout carried over the engines and noise the horses made.

  Like magic, Barger raised his gun and ejected the mag. "Don't shoot. Just tell me what you want."

  Kellen grinned. "Well, Barger, I want your hide mounted on my wall. Simple. You can either surrender, or I put the woman down."

  "Alright. Just don't shoot her. I'll do whatever you want. Let them go. They have nothing to do with whatever your problem is with me."

  A laugh escaped. "Not that simple, Barger. I want you. But the guy paying me wants Miss Holt. The other two, I don't give a shit about, but I can't have the woman running back to blab. So, lady, you're coming with us." He gave a nod and a pair of the Raiders climbed off and grabbed the fallen man and boosted him back aboard his horse. Only instead of sitting, he lay across the saddle, unconscious and bleeding.

  He'd expected tears and begging, not this quiet acceptance, from the women.

  "Okay, folks, you have a choice. Come along quietly and you might live. Ready?" He waved Hack out, and the other ATVs closed in around the horses and pushed them toward Blackwell's place.

  The ride went smoothly and they made good time. He took them right up to where the panel truck waited not far from where the ATVs had to be stashed. Things even went according to plan as they confiscated all the weapons and dragged the injured man into the truck and stashed him at the front near the cab. The women went next and Barger followed as soon as they'd sat beside the other guy.

  One of the women leaned over the wounded man, saying something softly. Dude would likely die during the drive, but Kellen didn't much care.

  Two of the Raiders turned the horses over to one of Blackwell's workers. They would be stashed in his stable until further notice. Couldn't have them going back home and letting anyone know Barger and the others had run into trouble.

  The prospect and another Raider climbed into the cab of the truck and fired it up. A matter of moments passed and the truck rolled away from Blackwell's place surrounded by Hell Raiders. Only a couple hours and Kellen would have Barger strung up in a barn where he could actually start taking his revenge.

  Chapter Twenty One: Jakob

  Jakob wanted to slam into the door of the truck and tear it down and get them out. Logic insisted the move would be a waste of valuable energy, so he refrained. Instead, he concentrated on figuring out how they might manage to escape when they got wherever they were going.

  At the front of the cargo box, Kate and Rita had found a light somehow, and worked on Falon with the limited resources they had. They'd managed to pack and bind his wound, high in his chest. Bastard needed medical care, but Jakob doubted they were on the way to an ER.

  Nothing to do but wait. He dropped to sit with his back against the wall, and considered their options. Kellen's men had confiscated their weapons, so he'd have to come up with something else.

  The little light up front revealed nothing, only bright enough to help someone not trip over cargo. He stood and walked around, kicking at uneven spots in the plywood floor, and the two-by-fours supporting the sidewalls. Huh. On the opposite, back near the door, he found half a dozen two-by-four sections fastened to the floor.

  He almost gave up after the first three turned out to be screwed down securely. But the fourth one wiggled a little. He gave it a solid tug and it cracked a little, but still didn't really move. A quick inspection revealed only one screw holding it down near one end. He went to the other end and pried it up enough to get his fingers under. After a little work, it came loose with a splintering sound as the screw tore from the plywood floor.

  Armed, he felt much better about their situation. A four foot board with a screw sticking out two inches from the end could turn into a lethal weapon in the right hands. And his hands would have no problem making that transition. He sat back down to wait. Kellen would get a shock when he opened that cargo door.

  Kate came to sit by him, leaving Rita with Falon. "You doing okay?" Concern echoed through her soft voice.

  "I'm good." He slipped his arm around her and drew her close. "Don't worry, Kate. I'll find a way to get us out of this."

  She put her head on his shoulder. "I know. When we get wherever they're taking us, I want you to take the chance and get away. If Kellen gets his hands on you, you won't be able to help us afterward. And Falon isn't going to be able to run for a while. I'll stay with Rita and him. You run so you can bring the police or something."

  Reluctantly, he admitted she was right. Kellen had a hate-on for him the size of Texas, and
fully intended to give him a world of hurt. He'd be no good to Kate and the others beaten half to death in a basement somewhere.

  So he sat and waited. Kate dozed a little on his shoulder and Rita talked quietly to Falon, keeping him settled. The truck swayed and rolled, reminding him of a ship at sea. They must be on a highway. After an initial series of turns and sometimes curves, they'd been on a long stretch at a steady speed and no sharp curves.

  Probably three, maybe four, hours after they'd been shoved into the truck, it slowed into a long turn with a stop at the end. An exit from the Interstate? The truck turned left and stayed fairly slow, with frequent stops and starts, like traffic lights in a long series. Finally they were moving again, but the truck swayed far more and hit several potholes. They must have gone onto a smaller road, probably a rural two-lane.

  Another turn took them onto a bone-jarring road, probably a gravel lane or something similar. Maybe they were close to their destination.

  Jakob stood and stretched, wanting to be ready to move when the time came. He wouldn't get far or do much damage if he was too stiff from sitting. The truck took an abrupt turn and came to a stop.

  "Kate, go up with Rita and help with Falon. As soon as you're there, shut that light off. It'll give us a slight advantage." He crouched next to the door to wait.

  The light went off and plunged them into absolute dark, leaving him with only the memory of his position in relation to the door as a guide. The truck shut off and a door slammed while a motorcycle passed nearby. At least two other bikes stopped and shut off not far from the rear of the truck. Snatches of unintelligible conversation came to him for a moment, then faded away. He continued to wait. And wait.

  "Alright, Trip, we're ready. Open it up."

  "Yeah, boss." The door rattled and the latch squealed, then a thin strip of light appeared at floor level.

  Jakob tensed, weapon ready, and prepared to attack whoever happened to be between him and freedom.

  The door came up a little more, enough to reveal that darkness was falling, then stopped abruptly. Someone cursed and said something. "Yeah, man, I know. The damn track is bent. Rental place should be ashamed. Soccer mom wouldn't have a chance at opening it." The door shook hard and went on up.

  As soon as it was high enough for him to clear, Jakob went through it, with his boot in the face of the guy working to get it open. The guy went down and Jakob swung the two-by-four against the skull of the nearest standing opponent. The board landed with a sickening crunch and the guy dropped.

  A third man waited, ready with a wicked looking knife. With no other enemies in sight, Jakob took the risk of losing his weapon and slashed across the man's forearm with the protruding screw. The man screamed and dropped his knife. Jakob paused a tenth of a second to scoop it up, too, and ran like hell for the clump of outbuildings off to his left.

  All around him, shouts and curses rang out as the alarm spread. He sprinted behind a small shed hoping to lose himself in the near darkness beyond. Those bastards better not hurt Kate because of him. If they did, he would… Wait. The position of that shed against the board fence seemed oddly familiar.

  He moved along the fence in the heavy shadows and found the gap from the missing board, right where it should be, and ducked through. His feet found the old path, memorized from hundreds of late-night forays as a kid.

  Now why the hell had Kellen brought him back to Uncle Frank's place? Surely the criminal wasn't stupid enough to give anyone the home court advantage. The guy didn't get elected President of the Brothers of Sin by making moves like that. He'd have to figure that part out later.

  Jakob counted on the deepest shadows around the buildings to conceal him from the Hell Raiders. He had to take his time, careful to avoid any potential traps that might lay along the old trails. If Kellen had taken time to explore the place, he could have easily stumbled onto any part of the network of footpaths and animal trails Jakob had used as a kid to navigate around the place on long summer nights.

  Finally, he reached the old cellar near the now mostly dead orchard. Before Uncle Frank's time, that cellar had stored the bulk of the apple harvest through the winter. Inquisitive twelve-year-old Jakob had discovered a second use for the cellar. In the back, behind a heavy shelf, a small door led into a second chamber.

  The secret room had made a perfect place for kid to hide whatever treasures he wanted to keep to himself. On his last visit, Jakob hid a few other things there. A .45 semi-auto and ammo, a knife, change of clothes and some other survival gear. It became the last in a series of emergency caches he'd strewn across Uncle Frank's place. The old man thought he was a little touched in the head, since the house had weapons and gear running out the eaves, but he allowed it. Now, Jakob intended to take full advantage.

  He armed himself and left everything else in place. Once out of the cellar, he took advantage of full darkness to cross to the hay barn. A ventilation door in the side provided quiet access and he found the undisturbed stash. He lifted the pallet where square baled hay was normally stacked and uncovered the lid of the buried metal box.

  The rifle might come in handy, but what he really wanted was the night vision goggles. They would give him a huge advantage in the dark. He added a second knife to his belt and smeared grease paint over his face and hands to dull the shine of bare skin. Armed to his satisfaction, he put everything back, and climbed to loft.

  The four foot square door in the front provided access for a conveyor to move the hay to the upper level. It also provided an excellent view of the house. Fortune smiled on him. The door had been left open, probably for Uncle Frank to sweep out the loose hay before putting the new crop up. Whatever the reason, it meant no squeaky hinges to worry with.

  NVGs in place, he stayed back in the deeper shadows, and studied the house. Two armed men patrolled outside, and another guarded the door. Through the open curtains of the kitchen window, he spotted Kellen, engaged in what appeared to be a heated conversation with two other men. That made six accounted for, out of the fifteen bikes. Nine more to find. He needed to get to the other side of the house. Unless he missed his guess, he'd find at least one more sentry there on the door, and probably two more patrolling. Nine.

  What about the high ground? Kellen should have someone on the roof. Jakob studied the sloped roof carefully and finally found the guy. Seated behind the old chimney, he'd have remained invisible if he hadn't stretched his leg out. So, maybe ten. Search as he might, he couldn't find the others from his current position. Time to move.

  He left the barn by the other side, careful to avoid his previous route, just in case they'd managed to track him. Not like there was a shortage of hidden trails anyway. He sprinted the fifty feet to the corn crib and slipped under it to the hollowed out place where he'd played for hours as a kid. From the new vantage point, he spotted another outlaw stationed near their bikes. Eleven. There went the possibility of sabotage, at least until he dispatched that one.

  He'd have to utterly incapacitate them in order to win this thing and get Kate and the others to safety. Or rely on stealth and attempt to rescue them without alerting Kellen and his men. Not very damn likely.

  He pushed the moral side of his personality into a little box and locked it away. This was life or death and they had his woman. He could afford absolutely no mercy or conscience.

  The well-house beckoned as his next destination. He belly-crawled from under the corn crib and stayed down for the short distance. Ten feet away, someone stepped around the well-house and stood facing it. Damn his luck. Guy had to take a leak right then. Might as well get started.

  He rose and rushed forward, catching the guy mid-stream. A sharp wrench to the side resulted in a crunch as the man's neck broke. Jakob lowered the body gently, and moved on.

  One by one, he either killed or incapacitated every Hell Raider he found. Finally, he was sure he'd taken care of the threat outside. Time to move inside. A quick trip around the house revealed Kate and the others in the front be
droom. Falon sat on the bed and Rita leaned over him, fussing with his wound. The livid mark on her face sent Jakob's blood pressure through the roof.

  Kellen and another guy came into the room. "This is the last time I ask. Where did Barger go?"

  Kate stood there before him, chin tilted in defiance. "I really don't know. I don't even know where we are. But I do know he's coming. And I know you're going to die."

  Kellen stepped back and the man with him lashed out, the back of his hand connecting with Kate's jaw. The blow hardly rocked her, despite the blood that trickled from the corner of her mouth.

  A red haze rolled over Jakob's vision, blurring everything but Kate. The bastard had hit her. Hard. Rage locked his muscles for a moment.

  Kate looked at the man and smiled, blood smeared across her mouth. "That all you got?"

  The man's face contorted with anger. "Bitch!" He drew a fist back.

  Kellen stepped in. "Enough, Hack. I want her able to talk. Besides, she's getting married. Can't have her looking like a street ho." He looked back to Kate. "I'm sorry. My buddy here has a real bad temper. I have other business to attend. Are you sure you don't want to tell me where Barger is before I leave you to Hack's tender mercies?"

  Damn, he had to move in, regardless of the others. He lifted the .45 and drew a bead on the one called Hack, since he seemed the most immediate threat at the moment. He squeezed the trigger just as the man grinned and winked at Kate. In the next instant, the bullet struck his chest and he took a step back and slumped to the floor, looking shocked.

  The next bullet left the barrel as Kellen moved and missed its mark. Instead of his chest, it caught his upper arm. Just a flesh wound, but it made him back the hell up.

  Chapter Twenty Two: Kate

  Kate nearly fainted when Jakob started shooting. At least, she hoped it was him. The man called Kellen dove out of the room and she took advantage of the chance to slam the door on him.

 

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