by Susan Stoker
“Some had more than one wound. But they were all killed with a shot through the heart.”
“So, what? They were accidentally shot with a crossbow by a hunter?”
“I don’t think it was by accident, Conor. Some victims were naked, others weren’t wearing any shoes…but every single one had bruises around their throats, as if they’d been wearing some sort of collar at one point, and they all had injuries indicating they’d fallen several times.”
“They were being chased?”
“I don’t know,” Beth admitted.
“But you think so,” Conor said.
“Yeah.”
“Whoever took Erin wants to, what…hunt her?”
“I don’t know,” Beth said again. “But the times of death for the other victims I found were all within twenty-four hours of disappearing.”
Conor swallowed the bile that came up his throat at the implication of what Beth had just told him. It had been way longer than that for Erin. “She’s not dead,” he said vehemently.
“I didn’t say she was. If she’d been hunted and left for dead, you would’ve found her by now. The victims were all discovered in the area where they were taken. You’ve been all over that land.”
“Why is Erin different? What made him delay the hunt?” Conor asked, more to himself than Beth.
They were both silent as they contemplated the question.
“What if she was hurt?” Conor finally asked. “What if, when he was dragging her off, she fought him and was injured in the process? If he does like to hunt, wouldn’t he want the person to be in good shape? If Erin was hurt, she couldn’t run as fast or as far.”
“Right,” Beth agreed, getting into it. “So he has to make sure she’s in the best condition possible before he sets her free to hunt.”
“Which means he gave her water and food, and probably isn’t abusing her,” Conor concluded hopefully. He had no idea if he was right, but he wanted to be. God, how he wanted to be right.
“Find her, Conor,” Beth said softly. “I’ll search the satellite images for any kind of structure where he could be keeping her, but I have a bad feeling her time is running out.”
“I will.”
“I’ll tell Cade to stay here for now. But if you need more eyes or hands, let me know, and everyone from Station 7 will be there in a heartbeat.”
“Appreciate it. Later, Beth. Thanks.”
“Later.”
Conor hung up and closed his eyes for a brief second. God. He couldn’t imagine the hell Erin was going through if Beth’s hunch was right. But at the same time, it meant she had a chance. She loved the outdoors. If some bastard thought letting her go out there somewhere would freak her out and he’d easily be able to find her, he was going to have a harsh surprise waiting for him. Conor ran with Erin, he knew firsthand how fast and how far she could go. If anyone could outrun and outsmart a psychotic killer…it was Erin.
Please let it be Erin.
He spun on his heel with renewed determination and headed for the huddle of men and women. The good news was that they were looking in the right area. The bad news? Both Erin and the kidnapper were most likely on the move.
Erin huddled down behind a tree and tried to catch her breath. She had no idea how much time had passed since she’d run from the cyborg. She’d continued until she had a stitch in her side, then she kept running. The landscape ebbed and flowed from being mostly scrub bushes with no place to hide, to thick trees. She’d seen some sort of lake from an overhang at one point, but so far hadn’t seen it again.
Erin closed her eyes in despair. She didn’t want to be playing this deadly game of hide-and-go-seek. She wanted to be in the tent with Conor. Wanted to have nothing better to do than sit around and watch the stars. Instead, she was running for her life, in her underwear no less.
She wanted to give up. Wanted to say “fuck it” and just lie down and wait for cyborg man to find her and put an arrow in her heart. But she couldn’t. Thoughts of Conor finding her that way wouldn’t leave her brain. She wanted a life with him. Wanted to be his in every way. Wanted to know what it felt like to make love. She had so many things she still wanted to do in her life. Cyborg asshole wasn’t going to take that away from her.
With that thought, she stood and began to run once more. This time trying to stick to a path that wouldn’t broadcast which way she’d gone to the man hunting her. She had to be more strategic. She couldn’t continue to just run willy-nilly as she had been.
Conor would have people looking for her. He’d be looking for her. She needed to find civilization. The Natural Area wasn’t exactly near any big cities, but there were people around. Erin just needed to find them.
With renewed faith that she could get out of this, Erin ran.
Hours later, Erin knew there was no way she could get out of this alive. She’d done everything she could think of, but she knew the cyborg was on her trail. She’d tried to backtrack once and almost ran right into the man. She’d only survived by dropping to her belly silently and lying in the dirt for ten minutes while she’d waited for him to get out of range.
Leaning against a tree and sliding down its rough bark, not even caring that she was scraping her skin up in the process, Erin sat in the dirt and wrapped her arms around her legs. She looked up into the sky and estimated that it was late afternoon. How long had she been running? At least four or five hours. Maybe more.
She was sweaty, hungry, and her body had begun to shake from lack of water. She stared at her shoes and thought about her dad. The flint tied into her laces caught her eye and she smiled as she remembered the trip her dad had given it to her.
“This is my lucky flint, Erin. I want you to have it. Don’t take it off, you never know when you’ll need to start a fire.”
“Dad,” she’d complained, “We live in Houston. I only go camping with you and we bring matches. Why would I need to start a fire?”
He’d laughed, and Erin could still remember the sweet sound echoing in the trees around them. “I don’t know, baby, but if you did, wouldn’t it be lucky to have the means to make it?”
A tear escaped Erin’s eye at the memory. Her dad. God, she missed the man. Even more now that she knew the truth about his disappearance.
She froze and blinked. She held her breath for a long moment, then let it out in a silent whoosh. No one knew where she was. Hell, she didn’t even know where she was. But the cyborg had been right, she couldn’t escape him.
But what if she could create a distraction, lead the people who had to be looking for her to the cyborg’s hunting grounds? To her?
It was risky. Fuck, it was dangerous, reckless, and made her a horrible person.
But if it saved her life, it might still be worth it.
Erin reached for the laces of her boot. She quickly and carefully undid them, pulling the flint off in the process. Then, holding the only thing that might save her life in her palm, she re-tied her laces, leaving one end longer than the other. She needed her boots to run, and they needed to be tied tightly. But she also needed the steel striker at the end of the lace to use on the flint.
Looking around, Erin quickly gathered a small pile of sticks and logs. She grabbed some of the dry leaves left over from last fall to use as kindling. She set up the small campfire just like her dad had taught her all those years ago.
Hearing a sound, Erin looked up, her heart in her throat, hoping she hadn’t been caught right when she thought she might have a chance.
A deer was standing about twenty feet from her. They stared at each other for a long moment.
“I’m sorry,” Erin whispered. “He made me do it. Run, Bambi. Tell all your friends. Run for your lives.”
And with that, she looked down and struck the flint with the steel end of the lace.
Sparks flew. She did it again. Then again. Each time, more sparks ignited as the years of gunk were wiped off the flint.
She leaned down and concentrated. Time was running out.
She felt it in the air around her. As the sparks flew, Erin blew on the dry leaves.
Finally, they caught.
She cupped her hands around the small flame and prayed as she nurtured it. One stick caught. Then another. When the fire was big enough, Erin reached for the larger sticks and logs she’d found. She fed the small fire until it blazed two feet off the ground.
She took a step back, then another. With tears coursing down her cheeks for what she’d done, knowing full well the destruction it would cause, Erin turned and ran.
Juliette Winston, Conor’s friend and long-ago classmate at the game warden academy, answered her phone. She was sitting in her office in Bandera, organizing search parties and trying to keep a handle on the search for Conor’s girlfriend.
“Winston.”
“There’s a huge fire just north of the search area,” the voice on the other end of the phone said. Juliette didn’t know who she was talking to, but it didn’t matter. If the people searching for Erin were going to be in the line of fire, they needed to be notified and evacuated.
“Ten-four. I’ll call the Texas A&M Fire Service and let them know what’s going on. In the meantime, have local fire departments been notified?”
“Yes, ma’am. The call went out to Bandera, Tarpley, Pipe Creek, and Medina. Units are en route now.”
“Good. Thank you for the head’s up.”
The person on the other end of the line disconnected without saying anything else, but Juliette’s mind was already on other things. Namely, making sure her friend and fellow warden, Conor, didn’t do anything that would get him killed.
“The crew from Station 7 are here,” Hayden informed Conor in a low tone. “I heard the incident commandeer say he’s going to pair them up with the local volunteers. They’ve fought grass fires, but not full-blown wildfires like this one. He can use the extra hands, but doesn’t want a situation where they have to go in and rescue them because they don’t understand how a wildfire works.”
Conor ignored her and shrugged on the turnout coat one of the firefighters from the Tarpley Volunteer Department had lent him.
Hayden put her hand on Conor’s arm, stopping him. “You need to let the fire department do their thing. If you get fried to a crisp, it’s not going to help Erin.”
Conor turned then and looked down at his friend. “What are you suggesting? That I hang out here and do nothing? It’s her. I know it.”
“It could be a coincidence.”
Conor snorted. “You don’t believe that any more than I do, Hayden. It’s the sign we needed. I have no doubt Erin started that fire out of desperation, but it’s also going to lead us right to her—which I think she’s counting on.”
Hayden looked around, then grabbed Conor and dragged him over to a group of volunteer firefighters who were gearing up to head into the wilderness. Moose and Penelope were also there, obviously having been paired with the group of local firefighters.
“Moose. Penelope.” She nodded at her friends, then turned to the others. There were five other men, all in turnout gear, getting ready to go. “Conor is going with you,” Hayden informed them. “Make sure he doesn’t get killed, okay?”
One man reached out a hand to Conor. “I’m Pops, the commander of our little group.”
Conor nodded at him and shook the outstretched hand.
“The others are Dirty-D, Tank, Buff, and Short Shit.” The commander looked at Moose and Penelope, then back to Conor. “Stick with us, do what we do, and everything will be fine.”
Everyone nodded, and the local firefighters concentrated on making sure their packs were set and they had what they needed to fight the wildfire. Penelope turned to Conor and put her hand on his arm. “You doing all right?”
“No,” Conor said tersely. He appreciated what Hayden and Penelope were trying to do, but nothing at this point would make him feel any better about this situation. Nothing except having Erin in his arms, safe and sound.
The firefighters got ready to go. Along with Pops, they looked once more at the map of the area. Taking into account the wind direction and where they thought the fire was started, they made a plan.
Conor stared at that section of the map. It was about fifteen miles from the campsite. Not too far, but it might as well have been on the moon. They hadn’t searched out that far, they didn’t have the resources.
But that was where Erin was. At least where she had been. The nagging feeling that told him Erin had started the fire in an attempt at getting help solidified in his gut. She was out there somewhere. Trying to stay two steps ahead of a madman and now keep out of the line of fire. The desperation she had to be feeling was clear.
Following along docilely behind the seven firefighters, Conor made sure he had everything he might need in his backpack. He didn’t have any firefighting gear, but he wasn’t along for that. He had his pistol on his hip in its holster, a few extra rounds, and a first-aid kit filled to the brim with everything he hoped he wouldn’t need. He wasn’t an official paramedic or EMT, but he could hold his own.
But when push came to shove, it didn’t matter. Moose and Penelope, and most likely the other firefighters, were EMTs, they could help Erin if she needed it. All he needed was to see her alive. He could work with anything else.
They entered the wilderness area in a single-file line in silence. No one said a word, conserving their energy for the trek ahead. Their mission was to dig a firebreak along the south side of the fire, making sure it didn’t spread any farther into the Natural Area.
Conor raised his head and looked at the cloudless sky. “I’m on my way,” he said softly. “Hang on, bright eyes, I’m coming.”
20
Erin tried not to cough, but it was impossible. The fire had worked…too well. She felt sick at the destructive force she’d unleashed, but it had definitely worked. She hadn’t heard the cyborg man for a while. She’d seen him once, right after she’d lit the fire. She’d been standing on one side of a line of fire, and he’d appeared on the other.
He’d tipped an imaginary hat to her and called out, “You better run, wildcat. You’re good, but not good enough.”
She hadn’t stayed around to hear any more. She’d turned on her heel and run. Knowing it was dangerous, but doing it anyway, she kept as close to the fire as she could. The fire would bring people, and she needed to be found by those people, not the insane man who was hunting her.
She shivered and forced herself to keep going. She was tiring, which wasn’t good. As Erin walked, she thought about her life and her body. It was somewhat ironic that the cyborg had chosen her to kidnap. If she’d been her old self, he wouldn’t have looked twice at her. An overweight woman wouldn’t be a challenge to him. He needed someone in shape.
She looked down at herself as she walked. Yeah, she had scars. She still had some saggy skin, but dammit, she’d done it. By herself. The surgery had definitely been the starting point, but through pure grit and determination, she’d lost the weight, and worked damn hard doing it.
For the first time in her life, she was proud of herself and her body.
She wasn’t perfect, but fuck that. She was closer to forty than thirty, she was never going to be perfect. But Conor liked her just how she was. He’d stuck by her side for almost four months without pressuring her to have sex. Oh, they’d been sexual together, but they hadn’t gone all the way.
He wouldn’t be with her just for sex. The man could get that easily from someone else. He loved her.
Erin stopped in her tracks. Conor loved her.
He’d said it before, but she realized there was a part of her that hadn’t really believed him. Somehow, being out here, almost naked, running for her life, playing the ultimate game of hide-and-seek, everything became clear.
She smiled.
Looking down at her hiking boots, the flint a gift from her father, she leaned over and touched them, saying, “Thanks, Dad.”
The second she bent over, an arrow shot above her head and la
nded in the rocky ground about eight feet in front of her.
She whirled around and saw the cyborg loading another arrow into his crossbow.
“Fuck!” She took off. Running as fast as she could, weaving in and out of the trees and bushes. Erin had no idea where she was going, just that she needed to get away from the cyborg. It would suck to make it this far, only for him to kill her right when help was about to get there.
And help was coming, Erin knew that. The fire crackled as it consumed the dry trees around her.
Making a split-second decision, Erin turned right, running straight toward the fire she’d been keeping ahead of. She could lose herself in the smoke and flames. As long as she stayed away from the fire itself, she should be okay…maybe.
It wasn’t a great choice, but when a second arrow grazed her arm, she knew it was her only one. She ignored the pain shooting down her arm, running pell-mell in a zigzag pattern, trying to keep herself out of the line of fire of the arrows.
She knew the man had to reload, so she had some time. Not much, but a little. Over the last couple of hours, Erin had discovered that the cyborg was in shape. He could run for as long as she could. She’d never be able to outrun him, so she had to outsmart him. He wanted to hunt an animal that could think for herself? It was time she started doing just that.
Erin glanced around as she ran, trying to come up with a plan. She thought about Corrie, and how she’d climbed a tree and hidden from the men after her. That wouldn’t work, as the trees had some leaves on them but they hadn’t grown in enough to fully hide her. She’d be a sitting duck for cyborg man.
The fire had been a good diversion, but she needed to do something else.
Then, seeing something she hadn’t expected to see, Erin put on a burst of speed.
She reached the edge of the stream and smiled in relief. The water would help if the fire, which was way too close as it was, came even closer. It would also serve to hide her footprints. She knew she’d been leaving an easy trail for the expert hunter to follow. She hadn’t had time to try to hide her prints.