by James Hunt
The next “surprise” turned out to be a three-hour road trip to the coast and a dinner at her favorite seafood restaurant, The Crab Shack. They had a great view of the sunset at the table, but her father quickly paid the check and then rushed her outside and back in the car, their mother staying behind, laughing at Kate’s confused face.
Another twenty-minute drive north led them to an airfield, and Kate shook her head in confusion. “Am I getting my own private plane too?”
“You wish,” her dad answered. “Now come on, we might miss it.”
“Miss what?” But her father was already running out to a man standing next to a small twin-prop Gulfstream that he had rented for the next hour.
Kate rode co-pilot, and from the moment she reclined in the seat of the cockpit and donned the headset, she was hooked. She’d never been in a plane before, and her father had arranged for them to fly along the coast so she could watch the sunset from the sky. And it was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen.
“Remember this, sweetheart,” her dad said. “When things get tough at school and you feel like quitting, remember that you can fly above it all. And that when you get to the top, there won’t be anyone that can stop you. You can do whatever you want, Kate. Anything in the world.”
And while the lesson was meant to teach her to aspire to greatness, the only thing Kate wanted to do when they landed was go back up again. Everything else faded from her mind—college, the car, her friends. The only thing that mattered was flying. She wanted to learn everything she could about planes, and from that point on, she knew nothing would stop her from becoming a pilot, and it was an endeavor that her parents supported wholeheartedly.
And then, three years later, Kate remembered telling that same father, who told her that she could do anything, that she was pregnant. And she also remembered that same father telling her if she didn’t get an abortion to kill that thing “he” put inside her, then she shouldn’t bother coming home again. So she didn’t. Not even to their funerals.
But while the adoration of her family disappeared, the passion for flying only intensified. Every penny that she saved went toward flight lessons, and her college aspirations transformed from Stanford to Embry-Riddle. Every night, she dreamed of being up in the sky again, and every waking hour was spent trying to make those dreams a reality.
The passion didn’t leave much time for anything else, and slowly, one by one, her friends stopped calling, and Kate stopped caring. She didn’t date, didn’t go out, and didn’t socialize. And then after Luke was born, she grew even more into herself and providing a good life for her son.
But over the course of the years, Kate became so focused on and busy with providing a better life for her family that she began to leave her family behind. She had lost touch with her daughter and put a strain on everyone by moving them from city to city until Mark had to issue her an ultimatum of either settling down or having the family split up for good.
Kate thought those memories of her parent’s scorn resurfaced because it was such a stark contrast to how she had approached her parenting. After giving birth to Luke and Holly, she couldn’t imagine disowning them, no matter what path they chose to walk. A parent doesn’t give up. No matter the odd or circumstances.
Kate checked the time, and the minute hand ticked past the hour mark. She turned to Stacy. “It’s time.”
Stacy nodded, and started to walk. Kate stared down at her feet, unsure if her body would even move after staying motionless in the cold for so long. But her right foot moved, and then her left, and then she was halfway down to the road that would lead her into town.
She kept a slow pace, taking her time but moving forward. She fought the urge to look to the north where Rodney and the rest were watching, because she knew that if she let herself turn once, she’d lose her focus.
As she approached the guarded front entrance, Kate made sure that the pair could see her coming from a long way off.
“Hey!” The first man who spotted her immediately lifted his rifle, aiming at her chest in the darkness. “What are you doing out there?”
Kate slowed, raising both hands in the air, and the second sentry raised his rifle as well. Smiles spread on their faces when they realized they were both women.
“Sweethearts, are you two alright?” The guard on the left was big and muscular, his beard thick and wild around his face and stretched down to his chest. A few silver teeth glinted in the darkness, and even with a bulky coat clasped tight around his neck, the top of a few tattoos still crawled out from beneath.
“Yeah, baby.” The guard on the right lowered his rifle. He was short, shorter than Kate, and bald, without a beard, and missing a few teeth. “You looking to get warm?” He grabbed himself and laughed.
Kate retained her stoic expression, while Stacy remained quiet, both fighting the urge to shake from the cold.
“My name is Kate Hillman,” she said. “I am here to speak with Dennis Smith. He knows who I am.” She stared at each of the guards in turn. “And he will want to meet me as I am right now. I suggest you take me to him immediately.”
“And what about her?” The shorter bald one gestured to Stacy.
“I’m here for my son.”
The playfulness of both the big man and the shorter one ended, and the short man raised his rifle at her once again as the pair exchanged a glance.
“Ladies,” the bearded inmate said, his voice with a glint of warning, “you are the dumbest pair of bitches I have ever met.”
The shorter one circled behind Kate and then prodded her forward with the tip of his rifle. “Move!”
The little man trailed Kate all the way down Main Street, while the big man walked behind Stacy. Kate’s eyes searched for the source of a monotonous hum, and she found it in what looked like a large generator, feeding power into three separate buildings.
The big guard knocked on one of the door’s attached to the building powered by the generator and then stepped back. Kate’s stomach twisted and flipped, her nerves threatening to shatter what remained of her resolve as she waited for Dennis to come out.
The sound of footsteps triggered her heart into a hastened rhythm. She tightened her hands into fists, squeezing until it hurt, and when the door opened and she saw Dennis’s expression morph from anger to surprise, her heart stopped dead.
The big man turned, pointing toward Kate, his tone nervous. “She came into town, said she knew you and that you’d want to see her.”
Dennis walked past the guard without a word, his eyes focused only on Kate, and he moved within a breath’s distance. He then grabbed her roughly by the arms, forcing her body flush against his, and kissed her.
Kate tried to turn away, but he kept his mouth pressed against hers until her lip bled. He pulled away and then slapped her across the face so hard it sent her to her knees.
The contact between bare hand and cheek made her face throb, and it was made worse by the cold and Dennis’s hysterical laughter.
“You don’t know how long I’ve waited to do that!” Dennis circled her, rubbing his hands together with enough vigor to start a fire. “Kate, Kate, Kate, Kate, Kate!” He tilted his head from side to side every time he spoke her name, and then he stopped his pacing when he faced her again. “Of all the little towns in all the little corners of the world, here you are.”
Kate lifted her face to meet his gaze, and she stood. A red handprint had formed on her cheek. “Where are they?”
The smile dissolved. Dennis again closed the gap between them to a breath’s distance. He shook his head and slowly lifted his hand, curling his fingers around her throat. The touch was soft at first and then slowly tightened as Dennis bared his teeth. “I know a lot about you, Kate. I know that it was you who fucked me over with the parole committee. I know it was you that called the cops on me and got me put in jail in the first place.” The grip around Kate’s throat closed her airway, and he dropped his voice to a whisper. “And I know that I have your child
ren tied up inside my house.”
Kate clawed at Dennis’s arm, her muscles giving way and her vision fading as she choked. Black spots covered Dennis’s snarling face, and just before everything faded to black, Dennis let go.
Kate clawed her fingers into the snow, her face red and purple, and drew in deep, raspy breaths. She swayed from side to side, coughing. And just when she felt the effects of the asphyxiation fading, a bright flash of pain erupted in her left side as Dennis kicked her.
The force rolled her to her back, and Kate shrieked as her hands immediately rushed to guard the wounded ribs. She lay still, her back cold against the snow, Dennis towering over her.
“Do you know what I went through in prison?” Dennis’s cheeks grew red with rage. “Do you know what it was like?” He spit in her face and then kicked her again, harder, this time cracking ribs.
“Ahh!” Kate cried out, whatever resolve she had carried with her crumbling beneath her feet as she rolled to protect her injured side, only exacerbating the pain radiating from her ribs and spreading to the rest of her body.
“And do you know the one thing that kept me going?” Dennis squatted low, shoving his face near Kate’s. “The one thing that I held onto that got me through the rapes and the insanity that being stuck in an eight- by four-foot cell does to you?” He grabbed her face, forcing her gaze onto his. “This moment. Right here. The hope that I would one day get to hurt you so bad that you wouldn’t be whole again. So bad that you couldn’t bear the thought of trying to live one more day. Because that’s what it was like on the inside for me.” He smiled, but the expression looked forced amidst the anger. “So thank you.” He slammed her head back hard into the snow and stood. “Drag her inside, and take her friend and put her with the others. And get some men to search the area. I doubt they came here alone.”
Rodney’s stomach tightened, and it took every ounce of control in him to not flick the switches on the detonator box as he watched Kate take a beating. They all felt the urge to pull the trigger, but they had known that it could be like this, and they had to wait.
They still didn’t know where the kids were being held, and when the beating was over and Kate was finally taken into Dennis’s house, Rodney started the clock again. Five minutes. That was all the time she said she’d need.
“We’ve got something,” Captain Harley said, peering through the scope of his rifle and catching the attention of group. “We’ve got six armed men heading into the woods.”
“Shit.” Rodney adjusted his rifle’s scope from Dennis’s house to the men heading into the woods. No doubt the bastards thought Kate had people waiting for her. He removed his eye from the rifle. “All right, everyone, listen up.” Heads turned, including the captain’s, and he didn’t look too accustomed to receiving orders. “We split up. Make it harder for them find us. But we stay in pairs.” He looked at Captain Harley. “Captain, you assign one of your men to each pair of civilians, and you can stay with me.” He turned back to the group. “Find a good position where you can still see the street, and be mindful to stay back far enough from the explosives. The distance we are at right now is good.”
Heads nodded quickly, and Rodney kept his voice down as he tapped on the detonator box. “Our signal is still with the explosives.” He checked his watch. “We’ve got less than four minutes.”
Harley assigned everyone quickly, and they disappeared into the darkness, hunched low in the night. Rodney returned his eye to the scope, searching for the inmates under the cover of darkness, praying that he wouldn’t have to blow the charges early.
Every breath hurt. It was as though glass had been ground up in Kate’s body, and any movement sent the shards into muscles and bones and organs. She collapsed into the kitchen chair that Dennis shoved her into and tried to find a position where the pain wasn’t so intense. She didn’t find one.
The pain was so blinding that Kate wasn’t sure how long Luke and Holly were standing in front of her before she saw them. Gags were shoved in their mouths, and their arms were tied behind their backs, with Dennis lording over them, large and in charge, the man who called the shots. The judge, the jury, and the executioner.
“Oh,” Dennis said, smiling as he watched the realization spread over Kate’s face. “Looks like someone is finally back with us.” He looked down at both Luke and Holly. “Wave hello to your mother, kids! Oh, wait.” He spun them around so Kate could see the rope tied around their wrists. “They can’t. Ha ha!” He spun them back around and then shoved them into two chairs across from Kate, with him standing behind but still between them.
“Are you guys okay?” Kate asked, her voice shaking, her mind trying to process only three things: her pain, her children’s safety, and any weapons that were nearby.
Luke nodded, and Holly cried. Kate tried to stand, but the moment she pushed herself from the chair, another bout of pain planted her ass back in the seat.
“So what do we talk about first?” Dennis asked. “I’ve already had a good conversation with my son about his heritage.” He stared at Luke. “Medical history, girls, my time in prison.” He flicked his eyes back toward Kate. “Mark.”
Kate grimaced and tried another lunge, but an even bigger flash of pain pushed her back down into her seat, and Dennis let out a slow, methodical laugh, shaking his head.
“I can’t imagine what it was like going back to that cabin and finding your children gone and your husband dead. But then again, I can’t imagine what it would have been like to be married to you.” He wiped his nose, sniffling. “So how do you want to do this, Kate? Do I pick one to kill? Should I have you pick one to kill?”
Kate watched Dennis’s eyes. They had always been the tell in his poker face. And at that moment, they looked as they had on the night over nineteen years ago. He was going to take one of them from her. And she would have to pick.
“Well, Kate?” Dennis asked, those eyes boring into her soul, his hands massaging Luke and Holly’s shoulders. “What do you say?”
Time. That was all Kate needed. Just enough time for the distraction. She closed her eyes, drawing in quick gasps of breath as she remained hunched in her chair. She opened them again, a bit of clarity returning, and she spied a cluster of steak knives on the counter. Six or seven big steps—that was all she’d need to grab one. How much time was left till the detonators went off? She couldn’t remember. The pain had blinded her to it.
“Tick tock, Kate,” Dennis said. “C’mon! Don’t keep me in suspense!”
Kate straightened, adjusting her posture in the chair, gritting her teeth, and groaning in pain as a thick sheen of sweat appeared on her forehead. She was weak, and she knew Dennis saw it. But she just needed to pull his attention away from her kids.
“So that’s what you want to do?” Kate asked, trying to play off a sense of apathy. “Play a game? I think you spent too much time playing with yourself on the inside.” She laughed, and Dennis’s expression slowly faded to match his murderous eyes. “You know, that letter that I submitted to the parole board, I think I rewrote it a dozen times before it was just right. Before I knew that it would keep you in that jail cell for the rest of your life.”
Dennis released his hold on the kids and stepped toward her, but she didn’t let up.
“My lawyer told me that I didn’t have to come to the meeting, but I said that I wanted to be there. I wanted to make sure I saw the look on your face.” Kate forced a smile, and that was the straw that broke the camel’s back.
Dennis screamed, lunging for Kate in the chair, leading with his fist. The first blow broke her nose, spraying blood down the front of her shirt, and knocked her from the chair. She rolled on the ground, her mind conscious enough for her to see Luke lunge at Dennis only to be backhanded to the ground.
Another scream filled the room, and before Kate could determine whether it was hers or Holly’s, Dennis lifted her off the floor, triggering more stabbing pain in her sides as he slammed her against the wall hard enough to knock
the pictures of the family that had lived there previously to the floor.
“You’ve always been a hard one to nail down, Kate,” Dennis said, tightening his hand around her throat like a vise. She clawed at his arm and swiped impotently at his face. “You were always smart, but you never knew when to quit.” With one heavy flick of his arm, he flung her halfway across the kitchen, her shoulder landing hard on tile, eliciting another debilitating crack from her ribs.
The pain was so immense that when Kate opened her mouth to scream, nothing came out, and the screams that she heard now were coming from Holly, her daughter’s face red and tearstained as her voice cracked with grief.
“Mommy!”
Kate could do nothing but stare at her daughter, as Dennis was on her once again, ramming his fist into her cheek, numbing her head and leaving her ears ringing. The next hit, she couldn’t feel, and it took her a moment to realize that she was standing upright, Dennis holding her up against the counter as her body sagged.
“I thought about raping you before I killed you, but now that I’ve gotten a real good look at your face, I think I’ll pass,” Dennis said, his dark eyes wild with anger and violence. “But I bet there are a few guys out there that wouldn’t mind it. Women have been in short supply, especially with our influx of men.” He smiled, the specks of Kate’s blood that had sprayed over his face filling the wrinkles around his eyes.
Kate moved her lips to speak, but the pain and exhaustion had numbed her tongue. She could see Luke trying to get up from the floor and could hear Holly screaming bloody murder. All sense of time disappeared, and Kate tried to remember what she was waiting for, but any attempt at remembrance disappeared with another punch to the gut.
Dennis released her, and Kate crumbled into a lifeless pile of meat on the tile. She blinked, which was the only movement allowed to her that didn’t elicit a screaming symphony of pain. Her position on the floor granted her a view of her son. He was screaming something at her, but Kate could only watch the movement of his lips. She thought of how good a man he had become. She thought of how good of a man that he would be.