The Rabid Mind

by Bruce Buckshot Hemming

  Mike yelled, “Get us the fuck out of here.”

  Brad began screaming, “My finger. My fucking finger is gone! God damn it hurts!” He jumped back in the driver seat.

  Mike smacked him on the head and said, “Drive before he kills us, you moron!” Dale tossed it in drive and hit the gas, jamming his right hand into his stomach to stop the bleeding.

  Sandra started fighting back, even though she couldn’t see. She felt like a caged wildcat kicking, punching, biting and screaming. Mike was looking out of the shattered rear window and, with his left hand, he grabbed her hair and punched her in the face twice, until she lost the fight in her. “Calm down or we’re going to tie you to the back of the truck and drag you home.” Sandra slumped down; the pain in her face was excruciating.

  Matt ran down the hill and raced to the guy on the ground, hoping he was still alive. The huge exit hole in the guy’s back told him there was no way he was alive. He wished he had gut shot him, but it was too late now. He raced over to his CRV and took off after the kidnappers.

  He had only gone about mile when he spotted their vehicle, stopped in the middle of the road. As soon as Brad and Mike saw him, they sped away as fast as possible. Matt gunned the engine, trying to catch up, when suddenly he saw the trap, a 2 x 4 with nails sticking out. Matt’s front tires hit the trap and picked up the board, slamming it into the bottom side of the wheel well and shattering it to pieces. The front tires were now leaking air, but he didn't care. If he could catch up to them he might be able to get a bullet in the engine, stopping them for good.

  Matt felt the tires going flat and it was getting harder to control the CRV. Before he reached the pavement, the tires blew out completely. Damn it. Matt stopped and quickly grabbed the jack, loosened the lug nuts and jacked the car up. It took too long. They would be miles away by now, he thought. He put on the spare tire and tossed the jack back inside with the lug wrench, leaving the flat tire on the road. Better to drive with three tires than two, but with front wheel drive it wasn’t possible to gain the speed he needed.

  He limped into town, but there was no sign of them. He drove around, trying to find another CRV, or any car that had a similar tire and wheel. After 20 minutes he found a match. Matt jacked up the vehicle, put a block under it and then jacked up the other side. He quickly changed the remaining flat tire and put the other good tire back as a spare.

  He knew it was too late to chase them, but he tried anyway. He raced down the highway, trying to find tracks going off the road. After half an hour of fruitless searching, he stopped to calm down, knowing he had better go back and get Jim.

  Turning around, he raced back to camp. He realized he needed to get more guns and ammo. He was almost to the road, when he saw Jim pulling out in the truck. He stopped next to him and rolled down his window. Jim had also rolled down his window and asked, “What the hell is going on?”

  “They got Sandra. What do you have for guns?”

  “I grabbed the 12 gauge, the 44 mag pistol and my 06.”

  “Great. I’m getting low on gas, so let me jump in with you and we can look for them.” Matt explained what had happened as they took off down the road.

  Jim said, “I thought you killed an elk with all the shooting, so I headed down to help. I never imagined this was happening until I found the dead guy.”

  Matt was thinking hard and said out loud, “They had to have been watching us for a while. It was like they knew she was home alone and they knew where to drive to and how to find us. Is there an old boyfriend at some other hunting camp, or anyone you can think of that would grab her?”

  Jim shook his head. “No, her old boyfriend never was around here and no one is in any of the other camps in the area. I can't think of anyone. Okay, let's use some logic. Say you’re right and they have been watching us. That means they have to be fairly close by. My guess is probably less than 25 miles. That means they have to be tucked up somewhere out of sight. The town is too obvious, so they have to be at a cabin or house.”

  “That’s good thinking, Jim.” They spent the rest of the day checking different locations that Jim knew of, without any luck. At dark they had to call it a night. They found an abandoned house with a fireplace and got a fire going to heat it up. They would need to get gas first thing in the morning so they could keep up the search.

  Chapter 20

  As Brad was driving away, Mike knew he would have to cauterize the wound to stop the bleeding. He needed to get a poker red-hot and then sear the open wound shut. He was glad the meth was already cooked. He needed Brad to get stoned first and then pour whiskey over the wound, before searing it shut.

  After they cleared town, Mike made Brad pull over. He took Sandra out of the vehicle and poured fresh water over her face and stood her facing the wind. He told her to rinse her face off and wash out her eyes.

  He walked over to Brad and said, “Get out and let me wrap your hand up.” He grabbed a shirt, tore pieces into strips and then sealed the wound the best he could. He said, “Sit in the passenger side and I'll drive.”

  Sandra had rinsed her face off three times but it still burned, although nothing like it did before. She could almost see again. He started walking toward her while she rinsed her face again and took a big drink. He grabbed her arm and hauled her back to the car, handcuffing her right hand and then placing the other cuff up on the handhold in the rear seat.

  “Why are you doing this?” She demanded. “I did nothing to you. Let me go, or my dad is going to kill you nice and slow.”

  Mike smiled at her and said, “Your daddy will never find us. We’re too far back in the middle of nowhere.” He drove a bit further down the road and then turned off onto a dirt road 10 minutes out of town, up over the mountain and down to a double-wide with a stream flowing past it.

  Sandra wanted to laugh. Her dad knew this place. The Donnelly family owned it and he used to visit with the old man, but she didn't say a word. She felt a little more at ease knowing he would find her, but she just didn't know when.

  The back bedroom was set up for Sandra. The window had been sealed from the outside with boards. There were scars on the door where they had taken out the doorknob and put it on backwards, so the door could be locked from the outside. Everything was cleaned out of the room except for a bed, a bucket and a roll of toilet paper. A gallon of water and some candy bars sat in the corner.

  Mike unlocked the handcuff and, holding on tight to the free end, dragged her out of the truck and inside the double wide. When he got her to the back bedroom, he unlocked the handcuff and shoved her inside, saying, “Now listen. You’re going to stay in here and be real quiet, ‘cause tonight you’re going to hear some screaming when I patch his hand up. You be good and I'll feed you tomorrow. You give me any trouble and you’ll go without food. Do you understand?” Mike stood at 6 feet and his 200-pound frame made her look like a doll.

  She asked, “Why are you doing this? Just let me go.”

  Mike ignored her and said, “Remember what I said.” Then he closed and locked the door. It would take 6 to 7 days to break her, maybe two weeks if she was real stubborn. He enjoyed the challenge of breaking them down and making them do as he said. Food was a powerful weapon and he had done this before. He knew the game, the tricks and lies they would try.

  Now it was time to take care of a more important matter. Mike got the meth out and had Brad smoke some until he was good and stoned. Then he grabbed a large metal spoon, put it on the propane stove and heated it up. He had a bottle of whiskey on hand. Mike waited until Brad was almost totally out of it before he told him what he was going to do. He removed the wrap from Brad’s hand, rinsed the wound with whiskey and then wiped it off with a clean rag, before doing another rinse. The blood was flowing again. He grabbed the red-hot spoon, pulled Brad’s arm out straight and locked it on his hip.

  With his back towards Brad, he said, “Hang on.”

  Mike placed the spoon on the flesh and could hear it sizzle as he rolled the
spoon. The stench of burning flesh was strong. He pulled the spoon away and the wound was cauterized closed. The drugs had done their part, slowing down the brain’s reaction to the searing pain, but Brad started fighting and screaming in pain.

  Mike let go of his arm and walked away, tossing the spoon in the sink. The screaming was driving him insane.

  “Shut the hell up already. The worst is over.”

  “Let me smoke some more please, anything to stop the pain.” Mike let him smoke more meth just to shut him up.

  Once he had settled down, Mike smoked some meth too and dozed off into his own world. Life was good. He only needed to share the girl with one guy now. Perfect. He would break her in and he smiled at the thought of it. This would be the fun part.

  The next morning Jim and Matt were up way before daybreak, heading back to town to find more gas. It took them hours to get the gas tank up to 3/4 of a tank, but off they went, searching for Sandra.

  Matt was thinking out loud, “Damn it. I should’ve shot out the tires. I was thinking that with the window shattering, they would just leave her and run off. Why didn’t I shoot the tires out?”

  Jim said, “Would have, should have, could have...doesn’t change anything. You did good. You killed one, wounded another and scared the hell outta the third one.”

  Matt turned and looked at him, “Wounded?”

  “Yep, you shot one of their fingers off. Didn't I tell you?”

  “No. That’s great news. We have the advantage - one wounded guy and one healthy guy.”

  “If that’s all there is to their gang, but what if it isn’t?” Said Jim, sounding concerned.

  “So what’s the plan?” Matt asked.

  “We have to find them first and then watch them and figure out a plan. Running in with guns blazing might not save her and just might get us both killed.”

  It was around 4 p.m. and they were checking places tucked back in off the main road, when Jim slammed on the brakes, tossed it in reverse and backed up to a side road. They’d found them. A black Escalade with the rear window shot out was abandoned off the road. The trees were blocking Matt’s view, but he knew that it was the car he had chased.

  “I know this place. I can draw you the floor plan,” said Jim. They parked the truck out of sight and Jim grabbed a stick and drew out the floor plan in the sand. “Main bedroom, big closet, bathroom and then you have the kitchen, living room, two back bedrooms and another bathroom.” Jim described as he drew. “Okay, we approach from the woods and you sneak up, without being seen, to see if you can see her inside. I am going to cover the truck with the 06. If they try to leave, I’m going to shoot out the engine, or just kill the bastards. Come back and tell me what you find out. Circle wide and stay in the woods, coming up on the backside, caddy-corner.”

  It was almost 5:00pm and the sun was shining as Matt used the natural cover to hide his advancement up to the mobile home. Looking at the window with the boards over it, he guessed that was where Sandra was being held. He snuck up to try and see inside, but the curtains were drawn tight and they had screwed the boards on. He listened closely, trying to hear anything. He couldn’t hear anything, so he snuck along the backside, peeking in the windows. He couldn’t see anyone. Once he was up to the living room, he could hear talking - just two voices.

  Matt stayed and listened, when he heard, “Are you going to feed her today?” A rush of joy swept through his body. She was still alive and he needed to get Jim. He prayed that Sandra was hanging in there.

  Matt snuck back the way he came and circled back to Jim, telling him, “She’s still alive and there are only two of them. Let’s just drive up and kick in the door, kill them both and get Sandra.”

  “Whoa there, slow down son. They’d hear us coming and we’d be in a gunfight for sure. They might use her as a human shield. I think we should sneak up, the same way you did, kick in the door and kill ‘em both quickly.” Jim looked at Matt with hard, cold eyes. “You understand me, right? We are killing them both, end of story, no bleeding heart shit. These assholes die, no questions asked!”

  Matt looked back at him, “Agreed.”

  “Okay, you take the 12 gauge and I’ll use the .44 mag. Less chance of busting through the walls and hitting Sandra.” Moments later they were making their way towards the mobile home. They snuck up and stayed low, managing to make it to the front door. The wide wooden steps creaked under their weight.

  The two inside heard the footsteps and Brad ran towards the door. Matt flipped off the safety on the shotgun and, as soon as he saw the face of a man looking down at them from the small window in the door, he fired. The buckshot ripped through the door at chest level and the face disappeared. Jim grabbed the screen door and yanked it open. Matt kicked in the main door and burst into the room. Shots rang out. Matt plowed right in, looking for the kidnappers, and saw Mike hiding behind a chair, firing wildly at the door with his pistol. Matt shot him through the chair, blowing the stuffing out and slamming the meth-head up against the wall. Before Matt could take another step, he felt a sharp stinging pain in his leg. The first shot had badly wounded the meth-head, but he had been able to pull out his switchblade, stabbing Matt in the leg as he approached. Before Matt could even turn the shotgun, he heard the roar of Jim’s .44 mag as it hit Brad in the head.

  Matt called out, “Sandra, where are you?”

  “Back here.” Matt hobbled down the hallway towards the back bedroom. “How many bad guys?” he called out.

  “Two. Did you get them both?”

  “Yep.” Matt unlocked the door and Sandra flew into his arms.

  “I knew you would find me.” Sandra said excitedly. “Thank you for saving me. I knew my dad would remember this place.” He winced in pain and, when she saw the knife still stuck in his leg, she said, “Oh my God, you are hurt.”

  She ran into the bathroom and grabbed the rubbing alcohol and gauze. Jim helped him over to a chair. “Drop your pants.” Jim said.

  “I can’t. The knife is in the way.”

  Jim grabbed another chair and set it behind Matt. “Here’s the plan. I’ll pull the knife. Matt, you drop your pants and have a seat. Sandra you clean the wound and wrap it.”

  Before anyone could say a word, Jim yanked the knife out. Matt howled in pain. It hurt worse coming out than going in. Matt quickly dropped his pants and sat down letting Sandra apply first aid. Matt got lucky — no artery was hit. The wound should heal without a problem.

  Two weeks after getting her back, Sandra and Matt were out hunting near the beaver pond, hoping an elk would come down for a drink. Or at least that was the excuse they told Jim.

  After being taken, Sandra had changed. She was more insecure and didn't want to be alone again. She and Matt had laid out the day before, soaking in the warm afternoon sun. Before they knew it, they were tangled in each other arms, wild and passionately free. Afterwards, she lay in his arms and, in a desperate voice, whispered, “Don't ever leave me.”

  Matt smiled at her and said, “I won't. We have a lot to do together.”

  They got dressed and looked down to the bottom of the hill. About 100 yards below them they saw six mule deer feeding on the grass and one drinking. They watched as a mountain lion suddenly charged and caught one of the does, grabbing it by the neck and quickly killing it. As the herd scattered, a nice buck stopped less than 30 yards from Sandra and Matt were standing. Matt lined up Jim’s .30-06 and dropped it, just as the rest of the herd ran out of sight.

  He picked Sandra up and twirled her around. “What a perfect day.” He said. She laughed and kissed him.

  They walked over to the buck, checking to make sure he was dead. Matt turned the deer to start gutting it. Sandra walked over to the side and looked down to see what the mountain lion was doing. It was gone from sight, having dragged off his kill, no doubt fleeing at the sound of the rifle.

  Just then Sandra noticed someone in a camo jacket walking their way. It appeared to be another survivor out hunting too. �
�We have company, Matt.”

  Matt stood up, scanning the forest but could not see him. “Is he armed?”

  Sandra replied, “No, I don’t think so.”

  Matt picked up some pine needles and wiped the blood from his hands, before picking up his rifle. He could see him now, but couldn’t tell if he was infected, lost or just starving. He was too far away and it was hard to tell. He surely didn't want to kill someone that just needed some help.

  Matt called out, "Can we help you?" There was no answer. The man kept his head down and continued walking towards them. Thinking he was acting very strangely, Matt called out again. “Are you hurt? Do you need help?” But the man just kept walking straight for them. When he was 20 yards away, Matt leveled the rifle at him. “That’s far enough. Tell us what you want.”

  The man charged straight for Matt. Matt yelled, "Loco,” and squeezed the trigger. He heard the worst sound of his life . . . ‘CLICK’. He had forgotten to reload after shooting the deer. In near panic he reached up to slam the bolt up and back, but the blood on his palm caused the bolt to lift up and his hand to slide past, as if his hands were coated in ice. The guy was almost upon him. He realized the only thing he could do was hit him with the butt of his rifle, but then he heard Sandra’s rifle fire. The .270 hit the man square in the chest, tossing him backwards down the hill.

  “What the hell is the matter with you? You always reload after every shot. What in the hell were you thinking about?” Sandra was visibly upset.

  Matt looked at her sheepishly. “The beautiful woman I was making love to was on my mind.”

  She smiled and softened her tone a little. “That’s no excuse. You have to pay better attention. You could have gotten killed. Now load your rifle before you forget again.” She shook her head and added, “I swear, men lose their brains when sex is involved.”

  Matt worked the bolt back, slamming in a new shell. He looked over at Sandra. “Reloaded, boss, and we only lose our mind when a beautiful woman is involved.”