In the Hush of the Night

by Raymond Benson

  Damn!

  “What are you looking for?” Trey snapped.

  “Dish soap. You got any?”

  “Look under the sink, doofus.”

  Jason shut the drawer and did as he was told. As he cleaned his plate, Trey walked over and handed over his and Makar’s dishes. “Here, you can do these, too, kitchen boy.”

  As Trey walked away, Jason noticed the bulge in his front pants pocket—the key ring. Surely the key to the padlock was on that ring. If he couldn’t phone for help and wasn’t able to leave in his car, the only other option was to somehow get the key and help Yana escape. Through the woods. Back to the highway. It wasn’t that far. Surely someone would see her on the road.

  But how was he going to get that key?

  “You have your hunting license?” Trey asked him.

  Jason looked at him as if he were nuts. “Uh, no.”

  “You can’t go hunting without one. How are you going to go hunting if you don’t have a hunting license?”

  They were standing in front of the cabin, decked out in hunter garb and carrying their weapons. Jason had the .388 Winchester Magnum that he had shot before. Trey carried his .458 Win Mag, and Makar had a .388 like Trey’s. Jason was dressed in what he’d had on since morning, except he’d added a light jacket and the orange hunter’s vest. Both Trey and Makar wore plaid shirts and heavy boots, along with the orange vests and caps that no one could mistake for anything other than something a hunter would wear. Jason thought the two men looked like lumberjacks, but he didn’t say that.

  “I guess I can’t go hunting, then. Look, if you’ll just help me with my car—”

  “What’s your hurry?” Trey playfully punched Jason on the upper arm, but hard enough to make Jason wince. “I’m just messing with you about the license. Hell, we’re hunting out of season; it won’t make no difference whether or not you have a license. This is private property. So—we’re going to spread out. Mack, you go that way. I’ll go this way. Jason, you stay between us. That way we’ll cover a wider area.”

  “What do you mean?” Jason asked. “Just walk straight into the forest? What if I get lost?”

  “Just walk straight. Time yourself. After ten minutes of walking, stop and find a tree to climb.”

  “A tree to climb?”

  “Yeah, it’s the best perch for shooting a bear.”

  “A bear can climb a tree.”

  “Not if you shoot him first.”

  Trey winked at Makar and smiled. Jason felt they were having him on; they wanted to make a fool out of him somehow.

  Fine. I’ll go alone. Maybe I can get away, get to a road, flag down a car …

  As Jason’s thoughts swam in his head, he actually entertained the possibility of shooting Trey and Makar. Would it be justified in order to save the captive woman in the shed? The problem was he didn’t think he could ever kill anyone. It wasn’t in his blood.

  They proceeded to march into the woods. Jason looked right and left and watched Trey and Makar head in their respective directions. They soon disappeared into the trees. Jason kept going, glancing at his watch every now and then. How far should he really go? He wanted to circle back and move in the direction of his car. At least he knew that the muddy road to the cabin went to Highway 82. That was his best bet to reach civilization.

  He stopped and peered around him. No sign of the guys. Jason turned around and headed the way he had come. If he could get back to the cabin before them, he would run down the road to his car and beyond.

  Jason soon found, though, that he must have misjudged the course. The cabin was still nowhere in sight—just trees. Had he somehow veered off the route?

  No need to panic yet. Just angle more this way …

  He walked for five more minutes, over brush and around trees, and then knew he was truly lost. Did he have a compass? No. Should he shout out and hope that Trey or Makar would hear him? Did he want to depend on them? That would be crazy—Jason wanted to get out of there, away from those crazy bastards.

  At that moment, a gunshot cracked in the distance. Jason felt the heat of the bullet zip in front of his face and strike the tree to his left, splintering a piece off the bark. Startled, he yelped, “Fuck!” and jumped to the ground.

  Jesus! Were they shooting at him?

  “Hey!” he called. “What are you doing?”

  He lay face down for a moment until he heard someone coming from his right.

  “You okay?”

  It was Trey. Jason raised his head. “You almost shot me!”

  “Sorry, man! Jesus, I thought you were a bear!”

  “Thought I was a bear? I’m wearing orange!” Jason got to his feet as Trey approached. Makar soon appeared from the opposite direction.

  “I said I’m sorry! Don’t get your panties in a wad. It was an honest mistake. Happens all the time.”

  “Happens all the time? Really, Trey?”

  Trey’s eyes flared. “Yeah, really. You want to make an issue out of this?”

  Jason instinctively knew to back down. If he’d been the type of guy who could fight, he might have taken him on, but he knew it was hopeless. Trey would make mincemeat out of him, and then Jason wouldn’t be able to escape and get help for Yana.

  “I think I’m done hunting,” he said. “Show me the way back to the cabin. I’m serious, Trey. I don’t want to do this. You guys can go hunting all you like. Not me.”

  “Fine.” He pointed in the direction Jason had been going. “It’s this way.”

  But Jason was still stuck there. When he asked about moving his car, Trey put him off again. “We’ll move it tomorrow. No worries. You don’t want to miss the big party tonight.”

  Party tonight? What the hell did he mean by that?

  Jason spent the rest of the afternoon in the cabin as Trey and Makar drank beer after beer and watched first a baseball game on television and then a particularly graphic and violent bondage and S&M porn movie on DVD. Jason was disgusted by the images on the TV, and the comments the two made during the “action” were vile and sexist. Jason simply sat there, nursed one or two beers, and hoped no one wouldn’t notice how few he was consuming. He didn’t want them to think he was staying sober on purpose.

  As the dinner hour approached, Makar opened two big cans of beans and heated them in a pot on top of the small stove. It wasn’t long before Trey brought a bowl and spoon over to Jason.

  “Here’s chow. You know, you could have been killed today.”

  “You think?” He took the serving. “I still don’t see how you thought I was a bear.”

  “The woods play tricks on your eyes, man. Said I was sorry. It was an accident. Drop it, okay?”

  Jason ate silently. There was no way it had been an accident—he was sure of it. Trey had tried to shoot him—or at least scare him with an intentional miss.

  Although the sun didn’t set any earlier in the woods than it did back in the city, it seemed to get darker sooner. Of course, it was an hour later, Michigan being in the eastern time zone. The days were getting shorter, even though it was still daylight saving time. Jason came to accept that he wouldn’t get out of there before nightfall.

  If Trey got drunk enough and passed out, maybe Jason would be able to get the key ring off his belt.

  32

  It was late Friday when Annie finally received the call from Mike Baines.

  “Okay,” he said, “I confirmed that Trey Paley and Makar are at the cabin. I saw them with my own eyes. I drove up there, but there was another car stuck in the mud on the road that led to the cabin.”

  “What kind of car was it?”

  “Uh, an Elantra. Hyundai Elantra.”

  That’s Jason’s car, Annie thought. Stuck in the mud?

  “Anyway, I got out of my patrol car, and I walked up the road to get a look-see.”

  “What time of day was this?”

  “Oh, three o’clock or so. I couldn’t call sooner because I had to deal with a traffic accident on Main St
reet.”

  “Go on.”

  “I didn’t want them to see me, so I crouched in the bushes around some trees, just so I could see the cabin, you know? Well, I saw both of them. They had rifles, and they were just coming out of the woods. Looked like they’d been out hunting, although I don’t know why. Middle of the day isn’t a good time for hunting.”

  “Did you see anyone else?”

  “No, ma’am.”

  “I’m pretty sure at least one other person is there. The owner of that Elantra.”

  “I didn’t see him.”

  Annie didn’t know whether that was a good or bad sign. “All right. I’d like to come up there and talk to those boys. Can you back me up?”

  “Sure thing. I was going to suggest it. I can round up at least one other part-time officer. We’ll put together a task force!”

  This is probably more excitement than the captain’s had since he found Irina Semenov in the trunk of that car, she thought. She looked at the time; it was already after six. Would it be better to wait until the morning? If she left now, she wouldn’t arrive until late at night.

  “Captain, I might not get there until ten o’clock or so. Maybe later. That’s probably too late. Perhaps I should leave bright and early in the morning.”

  “Oh, uh, hold on a second, will you? I have to answer this …” He put her on hold. Annie waited nearly a full minute before he got back on. “Sorry about that, Agent Marino. Where was I? Oh, yeah, I don’t think I can get the manpower tomorrow to provide backup. There’s this ballgame in town that me and the other officers have to work. If you want my opinion, I think those boys will be up late in that cabin. A surprise visit from the FBI after ten at night just might be what it takes to put them off their guard, if you know what I mean. I can make sure you have a room at the Lakeway Hotel.”

  It wasn’t ideal, but she could live with it. “All right. I’m going to grab some food real quick and hit the road. Should I just come to the police station where we met before?”

  “That’s fine. We’ll be here waiting for you. I got to say, though, I sure hope Trey isn’t in trouble. Him being a veteran and all. He’s a hero to our country.”

  Annie didn’t comment on that. “We’ll see what he has to say when I question him. I’ll see you soon, Captain Baines.”

  “Didn’t I tell you everyone calls me Captain Mike?”

  “All right, Captain Mike.”

  She dialed SSA Gladden’s office to inform him of her plans but got his voice mail. He’d probably left for the day, it being the start of a weekend and all. Such was the privilege of supervisors. She left a message saying she was driving to Michigan.

  Annie changed out of her pantsuit into the field wardrobe—jeans, a polo shirt, and sneakers. She strapped the Glock 22 on a drop holster attached to her outer thigh and picked up the bulletproof vest as an afterthought. Annie didn’t think she’d need it, but it was prudent to throw it in the Bucar. She didn’t expect the confrontation with Trey and Makar to turn into a shooting match, but one never knew. The vest wouldn’t provide much protection against a rifle round, anyway.

  Annie drove the Ford Fusion out of the lot and stopped at the first Subway sandwich shop she saw. She picked up a six-inch tuna on whole wheat and a bottle of water and hit the road. She ate her meal after she got out of the Chicagoland metropolitan area and continued driving onward as the sun began to set.

  By the time she reached Lakeway, it was pitch dark.

  33

  By ten in the evening, Trey and Makar had consumed more than a six-pack of beer each and smoked a dozen cigarettes as they watched more porno DVDs. Jason didn’t think he could take it anymore. He sat away from the TV set, nearer the kitchen. The smoke was suffocating him and the videos made him ill. He had to get those keys from Trey or try to get help for the woman in the shed. At the very least, he had to leave that cabin.

  “What are you sitting way over there for?” Trey slurred. “Don’t you want to watch? What, you gay or something?”

  “That stuff doesn’t do anything for me, Trey. And you know I’m marrying your sister, right?”

  Trey nudged Makar and laughed. “You’d have to be gay to marry my sister.”

  “Jesus,” Jason said, standing. “I’m going out to get some fresh air.” Trey shot him a look. “What?”

  “Don’t go too far. There’re bears in the woods.”

  “Yeah, yeah.”

  He stepped outside. Again, he was struck by how dark it was. The starry night sky was visible in the clearing where the cabin stood, but beyond that, the forest was a black, ominous backdrop.

  Should he try to go to the shed? Provide some words of comfort to Yana?

  No, not while those bastards are awake.

  Jason sat on the wooden stoop in front of the door, dug out his phone, and noted the charge—45 percent. There was no point plugging in the charger cord since there was no service anyway. He shut off his phone and shoved it back in his pocket.

  He heard Trey and Makar talking through the door, even over the moans and groans of the DVD. Were they arguing? Carefully, Jason approached the window. He could see them in front of the TV. Makar didn’t look happy. Jason moved to the side of the window, out of sight, and put his ear to the log wall of the cabin. The voices were clearer, albeit muffled. Some words were unintelligible.

  “… supposed to be a Bacchanal! How are we … with him here?”

  “Shut up, I’m working on that.”

  “Won’t … be here later tonight?”

  “I didn’t tell him Jason is …”

  “Because she’s supposed … for you and me and … my turn!”

  “Then go! Here’re the keys!”

  “… when he’s asleep.”

  The TV was turned off. Jason moved away from the wall and found his seat on the stoop, just as the door opened.

  It was Makar. “What have you been doing out here?”

  “Just looking at the stars. Breathing in the fresh air.”

  “You don’t like our cigarette smoke?”

  “Not really. To be honest.”

  “Sorry, man. Well, we’re going to bed. You coming?”

  Jason knew what he actually meant. We want you to go to sleep so we can go have our fun with the prisoner in the shed.

  “You guys go ahead. I’ll be in soon.”

  “No, come in now.”

  “Huh?”

  “We want you to come inside now.”

  Jason sighed and stood. “Fine. Look, tomorrow morning, you guys have to help me get my car unstuck. All right?”

  “Sure.”

  Trey was already in his bedroom when they entered the common area. Jason spread out a blanket on the sofa as Makar stumbled toward his room. It was obvious the guy was plastered.

  Jason lay in the darkness, the room dimly lit by the fireplace embers. There was no way he was getting to sleep. He felt so helpless, unable to do a damned thing about the woman in the shed. What would a movie hero do in his place? Sure, if he had the physique and the fighting chops, he’d waltz into Trey’s room and beat the snot out of the guy. Same with Makar. Unfortunately, he was no hero. He was a lowly bookworm, just like Trey always said.

  The minutes passed quietly—and then the snoring began.

  Jason sat up.

  There was no question about it. The snores came from both bedrooms. The two had drunk so much beer that they had unintentionally passed out.

  He knew that Trey had given Makar the keys. Should he take a chance?

  He stood and quietly stepped toward Makar’s door. He listened and heard steady, rumbling breaths. He had sleep apnea.

  Jason placed a hand on the doorknob and turned it at a snail-like pace. Luckily, it didn’t squeak. He pushed the door open and peered inside. Makar was on his back, his mouth open, his eyes closed. Jason’s eyes darted around the room. His clothes were piled on a chair near the door.

  The blue jeans.

  Jason squatted and reached in. His
fingers barely touched the garment. He moved farther inside and clutched the pants. He didn’t notice, though, that the key ring was sitting right on top of the jeans. As he pulled the trousers off the chair, the keys fell to the floor with a clank that sounded to him as loud as an atomic blast. Jason froze, winced, and prepared himself for a beating.

  Makar snorted and rolled over.

  Jason waited a full thirty seconds before he dared to move again. He let go of the pants, got on his hands and knees, and crawled just far enough into the room to grab the key ring. He then backed out, stood, and closed the door as quietly as possible.

  He found that he was trembling.

  Shit, shit, shit … can I do this?

  He moved back to the sofa, found his own pants and shirt, dressed, and put on his shoes. Was there anything else he needed? He left his bag on the floor but he dug out the Swiss Army knife and the flashlight. He grabbed the only jacket he’d brought. His cell phone was already in his pants pocket, even though it was useless. He had his car keys. There was nothing else he could possibly need …

  Wait!

  The guns. Where were they?

  He didn’t see them around the room. The two men must have put them in the bedrooms. He couldn’t risk going in there again and trying to grab one.

  I should just get the hell out now, while I can!

  Jason slipped outside. He looked at his watch—it was only 11:30, although it felt much later.

  He turned on the flashlight, which cast a dim beam in front of him as he moved from the front of the cabin to the back. He found the path through the trees and hurried along through its gauntlet-like tunnel. Straight ahead, and then the curve, and there was the shed.

  Jason knocked on the door. “Yana?” he whispered loudly. “Yana? It’s me, Jason!”

  Silence.

  He fumbled with the key ring, trying to hold the light on it and attempt to pick out the correct key for the padlock. He tried one, but it didn’t fit. “Yana? You awake?” He tried another key. No luck.