by Devyn Quinn
A light instantly went off between them.
Dakoda’s hands dropped. “Jesse—” she started to say.
Smacking his hand against his forehead, he cut her off. “I can’t believe I am that damn stupid,” he groaned. “I’m right on it.” Before she could blink, he’d shifted into his alternate form. A huge, tawny cougar sat on the table in the place he’d occupied.
She smiled. “Good going.” At last, hope was beginning to become something more than a dim, half-imagined sentiment.
Jesse cautiously stretched upward, balancing on his hind legs. One huge paw settled on a beam for support. His free paw flexed, unsheathing a beautiful set of razor-sharp claws. Aiming toward the weakest point in the planks, he began to hollow out the rotted gut of the plank.
It was slow work.
Layer after layer fell away until a Frisbee-sized hole had been gouged through the ceiling.
Dakoda hissed out a breath of anticipation. “Bigger,” she said, stroking a hand down the cougar’s damp fur. “It needs to be big enough for us to crawl through.”
The cougar abruptly vanished. Jesse held his hand in front of him, bloodied and torn by the sharp shards. “Sorry,” he gasped, grimacing through the pain. “I needed a break.” A little sigh broke through his lips. “Give me a minute and I’ll try with my other hand.”
Dakoda nodded. “Okay.” Then she winced, realizing that he only had two good hands to work with and one was now out of commission. She glanced up at the hole he’d gouged in the ceiling. Nowhere near big enough to get through. “It’s rotted, but not enough. At this rate it’ll take all damn night.”
Jesse disagreed. “It’s the best shot we’ve had so far.” He flexed the fingers of his good hand. “I’ll dig until the skin peels away if I have to.”
Before she knew what he was doing, Jesse shifted again. Releasing a roar that ripped through her ears, he flung himself at the ceiling. Digging both paws in, he used the leverage of his weight and hind legs to tear away more wood. Larger chunks snapped away, bringing in a torrent of rain.
Bigger. The hole was a little bigger.
Losing his grip on the slippery wood, Jesse fell hard, smashing against the tabletop with a body-shuddering thud.
“Careful,” Dakoda warned, pushing the single word out between her tightly clenched teeth. Anticipation tightened her throat, sped up her heart beat. The tension was eating her up inside. “Don’t hurt yourself, Jesse.”
The cougar ignored her cautions.
Rolling back onto his feet, Jesse’s sleek feline form took a second lunge toward at the ceiling. Unleashing another bone-shattering shriek echoing the reverberations of the thunder outside, his claws ripped through the wood like tornadoes eating up a city. More pieces of soggy timber disintegrated under his brutal assault, peeling away layer after layer. Seconds ticked away, spinning into long, jarring minutes.
Fists clenched as she watched the big cat at work, Dakoda could almost taste freedom. Escape would be the icing on the cake.
The hole expanded. Though it wasn’t the biggest opening, it was wide enough to squeeze a cat through.
Dakoda clapped her hands with delight. Or a very slender woman. “I think we’re on our way!” she shouted.
“What the hell do you think you doin’?” A voice savage with anger hollered behind them.
Startled by the intrusion, Dakoda whirled. Moving too fast to keep her balance, she stumbled against the back of the chair. Her ankle twisted out from under her. “Shit!” she cursed as a hot spear of pain tore up her left leg.
Losing her footing, she crashed to the bare ground with a bone-jarring crunch. The impact crushed the air from her lungs. For a moment she lay in a heap, dazed by the fall.
Before Dakoda could even focus her gaze, Rusty barged into the cell. He leveled his shotgun directly toward Jesse. “You’d better climb down from there, boy,” he warned, brandishing the dangerous weapon like a shield between himself and the captives.
Dakoda glanced up in time to catch a glimpse of the cougar crouching low on top of the table. His ears were pinned flat, and Jesse’s tail whipped back and forth like a kite in a high wind. Amber eyes lit with hate; an ominous growl rolled past sharp fangs.
Rusty took a threatening step closer. “Get down, Jesse!” he warned furiously. “Else I’m gonna blast you to hell and then some.”
Unwilling to heed the warning, Jesse crouched lower. A high shrill roar exploded from his throat. His eyes glinted with furious intent. This time he wasn’t going to back down.
Even if it cost him his life.
Dragging herself into a sitting position, Dakoda felt another white-hot bolt of pain shoot up her leg. Damn. She’d given her ankle a good twist. For all she knew, she’d broken the bone. Still, this wasn’t the time to be thinking of herself. Having been pushed to the edge, Jesse obviously wasn’t in any frame of mind to obey Rusty’s warnings. He’d taken enough from the poachers.
Dakoda’s heart thudded in long, sonorous beats. Oh, God, she doubted she could bear the sight of Jesse lying at her feet, shot to pieces. It couldn’t possibly happen again.
Today isn’t a good day to die, she thought wildly.
Dakoda threw up a pleading hand. “Don’t!” she gritted, her voice rough with panic as she fought to help control the situation. One wrong move could end in tragedy.
Rusty sneered. “Better do what she says, Jesse. You might not be worth nothin’ dead, but we can catch another just as easy as we got you.”
Jesse immediately shifted. Naked, he continued to crouch on top of the table. “Stay away from my people,” he snarled.
Rusty grinned. “Not while they’re makin’ us a whole hell of a lot of money.”
Dakoda tried to appeal to the man’s sense of reason. “For God’s sake, they’re human beings.”
Rusty’s smile morphed from unpleasantly arctic to a gut-twisting chill. “The red man ain’t got no soul,” he snapped. “That’s why they’re still like animals. And beasts like ’em were meant by God to be hunted and killed by man.” As if to second his words, a rolling crack of thunder splintered the ferocious storm.
Who could reasonably argue with such insanity?
“He’ll mind,” she promised. “We both will.”
Holding his gun with one hand, Rusty dug in the pocket of his heavy overcoat. He pulled out a set of handcuffs, then tossed them toward Jesse. “You put those on, nice and slow. Keep your hands where I can see them. Once you’re hobbled, I’m gonna chain you up. Shift or not, you ain’t goin’ nowhere.”
Jesse caught the cuffs. Glaring with rebellion, he snapped them around his wrists. “Fuck you.”
The grate of metal on metal tore through Dakoda’s heart. Escape had been close.
Rusty laughed and shot Dakoda a lecherous look. “After I get you all nice and hog-tied, the only one getting a fuckin’ is her. I bet she’s got one sweet poon, and I intend to get a little taste of it before sendin’ her off with that slant-eyed prick.”
Dakoda’s stomach twisted. Tiny hot prickles of disgust skittered across her skin. That definitely isn’t going to happen! Saying a quick prayer, she braced herself. She had an instant to make up her mind. Continue to be a victim, or start taking some names and kicking some serious ass.
Anger ratcheted through her. Ass-kicking won.
Acting more on instinct than rational thought, her booted foot shot out toward the toppled chair. Catching it between the slats, she used every ounce of strength she possessed to kick it toward the outlaw.
Her aim was true.
The chair sped toward Rusty’s legs, catching him squarely behind the knees.
Struck suddenly from behind, Rusty stumbled forward, fighting to keep his balance—and his hold on the shotgun.
Seeing his chance, Jesse’s shoulders flexed, muscle and sinew drawing into action as he launched himself from the table. Blasting forward in a powerful leap, he drove his full weight toward the outlaw. He hit hard, powering Rusty straight into
the ground.
Flailing helplessly, Rusty landed hard on his back. He cried out, tobacco-stained lips peeling away from his teeth as he struggled to buck out from under Jesse’s brawny weight. He tried to lever the shotgun across Jesse’s throat. “Get the fuck off me!” he roared, his eyes blazing like coals from the deepest pit of hell.
Forcing the shotgun away from his neck, Jesse’s shoulders flexed with exertion. Holding it tight, he twisted it back on its owner. “No way,” he gritted, fighting against the strength of a desperate man. Having suffered enough abuse, he was equally as desperate.
Rusty fought harder, bucking like a bronco set loose on fiery ground. “You’re gonna regret this, you son of a bitch.”
Jesse’s naked body shimmered with sweat as he strained to keep the upper hand against the outlaw. “I don’t think so,” he grunted. Gathering every ounce of strength, he twisted the shotgun out of the outlaw’s grip. Hobbled by the limitations of his cuffed wrists, he somehow managed to hang on to the rifle’s barrel.
A snarl rolled from Jesse’s lips. “Let’s see how you like the feel of this.” Cocking the shotgun over his shoulder, he swung hard. His aim was dead-on. The stock made an instant connection with Rusty’s temple. The sound of bone crunching against wood was sickening.
Rusty’s head lolled to the side, and a moan rolled from his slack lips. Blood oozed from the gaping tear in his forehead.
The abrupt shift into motionlessness stunned. The fight was over almost as fast as it had begun. The storm still howled, cutting the cell off from the rest of the outlaws’ compound.
Breathing hard, Jesse slowly backed away from the downed man. Chest rising and falling from his effort, he looked around wildly for another source of danger.
Dakoda relaxed. Rusty’s mistake was readily apparent. He’d come alone, believing a shotgun was enough to handle two angry, desperate people. “I think that’s it,” she ventured.
Jesse turned his head, gaze settling on her. “Are you okay? You fell pretty hard.”
Dragging herself off the floor, Dakoda nodded. “That fall was the best damn thing that’s happened to us so far,” she said, making light of her clumsiness. She winced when she tried to put her weight on her injured limb.
Jesse hurried toward her, offering a strong shoulder. “You’re hurt.”
Sliding a hand around his neck, Dakota gritted her teeth. “I twisted my freaking ankle.” She shifted her weight back on to the leg, persisting through the twinges, ignoring the discomfort. Now wasn’t the time to be hobbled by a bum leg. “I’m fine.” She glanced down at the unconscious man. “But he’s not.”
Taking in the damage he’d inflicted, the rifle slipped from Jesse’s limp fingers. “Shit,” he gasped between breaths. “He’s bleeding like a stuck pig.”
Dakoda limped over to the outlaw. He reeked of wet tobacco and unwashed skin. It took all the willpower in her not to puke. “There’s not enough soap and water in the world to get this man clean,” she muttered, breathing through her mouth to lessen the stink. The idea of his hands on her exposed flesh made her skin crawl. She’d sooner jump into a river of boiling acid than endure a single touch of his nasty hands.
Jesse hovered. “Did I kill him?” The barest trace of regret laced his voice.
Dakoda glanced up at him. “You did what you had to,” she said softly. At the time of the struggle, it had been kill or be killed and he’d acted on the impulse of the moment. Survival was an inborn instinct, but that didn’t make taking the life of another human being any easier.
Using her training in CPR, she quickly checked for a pulse and heartbeat. “He’s alive.” She eyed the cracked stock of the shotgun. “He’s going to have one hell of a headache when he wakes up.”
A sigh of relief broke from Jesse’s lips. “I’ve never killed a man before…” His gaze drifted toward the rifle. He started to reach for it. “But in this instance I think I could.”
Dakoda caught his wrist. She felt the tension, the anger boiling beneath his flesh. Nerves stretched taut, he was a mass of writhing emotions. “I won’t say he doesn’t deserve killing,” she said slowly. “But we’re not the ones to judge whether or not he gets it.”
Jesse’s gaze met hers. “I guess you’re right,” he allowed after a long pause.
As much as she didn’t want to lay hands on the unconscious man, Dakoda set to riffling through his pockets. “The law will take care of him,” she said, digging through the trash the outlaw had squirreled away. She found a small set of keys hiding between a pocketknife and a can of snuff. “And the sooner we get out of here, the sooner we can get some help and make it happen.” She dangled the keys. “Give me your hands. No telling how long it will be before they miss him.”
The cuffs dropped away from Jesse’s wrists. “We need to make tracks.” Grabbing the discarded loincloth, he shoved his feet into the moccasins.
Snatching her own jacket off the bunk, Dakoda looked him over. “That’s not enough for you to be wearing out on a night like this.”
“I haven’t got much choice.” Jesse eyed Rusty’s clothes, visually measuring the man’s build against his own. “You think—” he started to ask, prodding the unconscious man with a foot.
A smirk spread across Dakoda’s lips. Despite the stink, Rusty’s clothing was better than having nothing. “I think he deserves to be left naked—” She dangled the cuffs. “And hog-tied.”
14
Exhaustion. Mind-numbing, body-aching, rubbery-legged exhaustion. If they had thought escape was going to be easy, they were wrong.
So wrong.
Feeling her ankle turn for the ten-thousandth time on the rocky terrain underfoot, Dakoda hissed out a moan of pain. “It’s no use,” she said, collapsing onto the muddy ground. “I can’t take another step.”
Jesse immediately knelt beside her. “We’ve got to get as far away as we can, before they find Rusty and come looking for us.”
Soaked to the skin and bone cold, Dakoda curled her arms around her body, desperate for a little extra heat. “I know,” she muttered through chattering teeth. “Believe me, I know. I just need a minute, Jesse. Just a minute…” Close to drifting off, her lids slipped shut.
“Wake up, Dakoda.” A firm slap across her face brought her eyes open. “You can’t go to sleep here.”
“I’m so sleepy, Jesse,” she whimpered. “And cold.”
Jesse shrugged off his stolen overcoat, pressing it around her shoulders so the folds would fall over her body. The stink of its former owner still lingered in the material, but she didn’t care. It was waterproof and warm and that’s all that counted at the moment.
“Stay here,” he said. “I’m going to look around and see if I can’t find a place for us to hole up. We made at least three, maybe four miles, so that should be a good enough distance to buy us a little time.” He looked around, attempting to make out the landscape, lit now and again by the flash of lightning penetrating the trees. Being out in the open wasn’t safe. Being under a tree during a lightning storm wasn’t, either. “The good news is the storm will cover our tracks. There’ll be no telling which way we went.”
Her lids drifted back down. “Uh, huh, okay…” At the moment, Dakoda just didn’t care. She’d reached the end of her rope and hung dangling at the end. Her fingers were beginning to lose their grip as she slipped into a dark abyss.
Jesse pressed a small penlight—one of the many objects Rusty had stuffed his pockets with—into her hand. “Hold this. It’ll give you a little light.” He pressed a quick kiss against her chilly forehead. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
Dakoda nodded numbly. “Come back soon,” she mumbled. “Please.”
Jesse slipped off into the darkness.
Dakoda pressed closer to the tree, huddling in a mass. Even though they’d made it into a denser part of the forest, they’d still taken a good lashing from the intense rain. Her damp clothing clung uncomfortably to her skin, making her feel twice as cold every time the w
ind blasted through. Escape wasn’t anything like she imagined. Instead of being happy to be out of the cell, she was missing the idea of a roof over her head and a warm blanket to curl up in. It didn’t help matters one bit that her ankle felt thick and hot beneath the damp laces of her boot. She was going to pay dearly when she tried to take that boot off.
She sighed. “Nothing I can do but wait.”
The minutes ticked away, each one stretching into a longer and longer arc. Ten minutes, twenty, then finally a half hour.
Dakoda fidgeted. Time was slipping away and still Jesse hadn’t returned.
Worried, she forced herself to stand, leaning against the thick trunk for support. Her ankle throbbed in protest when she tried to put her weight on it.
She peered around. The gloom around her was thick enough to cut with a knife. Impenetrable. The tiny penlight was no help. She might as well have been shining it into outer space for all the illumination it provided.
A new thought niggled, something she’d been trying not to think about.
What if he doesn’t come back? A chill began to creep up her spine. Ten thousand images slammed into her brain, each one worse than the other. Anything could happen on a stormy night in a dark forest and none of them were good.
If he doesn’t come soon, she decided. I’ll have to go after him. She couldn’t sit there all night, waiting and wondering. The longer she stayed in one place, the better chance she had of being found and recaptured.
Dakoda hesitated. Leaving would mean she might become permanently separated from Jesse. If she wandered off, they might never find each other again.
She sat back down, pulling Rusty’s slicker over her body to make a little tent of sorts. Inside the cavity she created was a little nest, a little pocket of warmth. “I’ll just rest a minute,” she told herself.
More time ticked away.
A sudden jolt brought Dakoda wide awake. Someone was digging through the coat, trying to get to her. Yanking it away, a blast of cool night air hit her squarely in the face, bringing her instantly awake.