Ransom's Redemption

by Rhavensfyre

  Ransom appeared loose limbed, almost relaxed, but vibrated with a subtle tension. A small, compact dull black pistol appeared out of nowhere to rest in her left hand. Victoria hadn’t seen her draw it, but its presence was more effective at keeping her tongue firmly planted against the roof of her mouth than any verbal warning.

  Ransom stooped and ran her fingers around a single boot print in the muddy running track, then backtracked a bit until she found another. She closed her eyes for a second and pulled up a mental map of the property. They were close to the edge of the property. The country road that ran along the fence line was one of the old access points from back when it was a working farm. It was gated, but gates could be worked around, especially if someone was willing to hike it in.

  Ransom clenched her fists. This area of the property was heavily wooded. She had it posted against hunting and trespassing, but here was clear evidence that someone was doing both. The U shaped imprint of a butt stock was pretty clear farther up. Someone had been lazy or stupid, using their rifle to help them balance to get past a rough patch.

  Ransom ran through her options while continuing to scan the area. Normally she would just go after the trespassers, but she had Victoria with her.

  A hundred feet down the trail, she found a second set of tracks and a discarded Copenhagen container. She decided against stalker and settled on hunters. The tracks were headed straight for Old Pond. Smack dab in the middle of one of the larger clearings on the property, it was a favorite place for the deer to stop and drink. Every hunter in the area knew that. Ransom grimaced. They also knew better than to come onto the property uninvited. Even so, this was different. It was high summer, and it was illegal to hunt out of season, not to mention downright unethical.

  “Poachers,” she snarled. Ransom straightened up and tucked the small Smith & Wesson sub-compact pistol she took on her runs back into its discreet concealed carry holster.

  “Are you sure?”

  “That it’s not your stalker? Pretty sure.”

  “What are you going to do?” Victoria was still worried, but the minute Ransom put away her gun…she relaxed a bit. If she didn’t think she needed it that was a good thing.

  “Not sure. Usually, I’d follow the tracks…make sure they’ve left the property.”

  “Okay.” Victoria could tell that Ransom was torn between two duties. “Well, we’re already out here. Why don’t you just do what you would normally do? You keep telling me I’m safer with you than anywhere else.”

  “This could take some physical effort, depending on how far they have trespassed onto the property,” Ransom warned her.

  “I’ll do my best to keep up.” Victoria smirked. She wanted to brag that she’d been doing just fine all morning, but she held her tongue. With a chase afoot, Ransom was all firecracker and ball lightning. She practically crackled with excitement and it was affecting Victoria. She felt charged, more focused than she had in a long time, and ready to go. The adrenaline rush was intense, invigorating in a sharp-edged way that a sedate park run could never satisfy.

  A loud shot rang out soon after Ransom found the tracks. The sharp crack-pop sound echoed hollowly around them. The heavy forest distorted the sound, but Ransom could tell that they weren’t firing in their direction. The second and third shots that followed close behind the first told her two things. They were up by the pond and they were really shitty shots. I hope for their sake they are as bad a shot as that sounds.

  “Assholes. They’re still here! Did they really think they’d get away with shooting on the property and no one would notice that?” Ransom looked back at Victoria. The bastards were only about a half mile away, and she needed to get there now if she was going to catch them, which meant she had to haul ass. Hauling ass meant leaving Victoria behind. Her facial expression must have given her thoughts away because Victoria simply waved at her.

  “Go, go get them. I’ll catch up with you.”

  “I can’t. Tracking behind trespassers and checking to see if they poached anything is one thing, but now we know they’re still here and they have weapons.” Ransom sucked in her cheeks and growled. This wasn’t going to work. More than likely she was dealing with a couple of locals that didn’t think the rules applied to them, but poachers could get nasty. If Victoria showed up at the wrong time things could get complicated. She needed a new plan. Leaving them up here shooting at everything that moved wasn’t an option either. She’d seen an unscrupulous hunter decimate an entire flock of geese in less than ten minutes, throw them in the back of his truck and haul ass away from the scene before anyone even thought about calling the wildlife officer to report him. She couldn’t let something like that happen here.

  Ransom pulled out her cell phone. She didn’t want to bother Roy, but with Victoria here she needed some backup. “Dammit! I’ve got nothing.”

  Not only did she have zero bars, she had no signal at all. Another shot rang out. Victoria jumped, Ransom didn’t. She was listening for the echo.

  “Okay, change in plans. The Old Pond is about a half mile that way.” Ransom pointed to her right. “If you take this trail, it will take you to the ridgetop above the meadow. You should be able to get a good signal from there.

  “When you get to the ridgetop, stop and call Roy. He’s the Sheriff. Tell him I have poachers at the Old Pond and that I am going to deal with them.” Ransom knew when Roy heard that he would come running. And it will keep her busy and out of my way. She’ll be safe up there.

  “But, what if..?” Victoria started to ask.

  Ransom held up her hand. “Don’t worry about me. Just get to the ridgetop, make the call, then wait for me to come get you.”

  “I don’t know the number,” Victoria protested. She didn’t like this plan one bit.

  “I programmed the phone already. It’s #3.”

  “Three, got it.” Before Victoria could say anything else, Ransom took off at an impressive sprint. Damn, she’s fast…and quiet. The woman loped through the woods with the same silence and grace as a wolf out for the hunt.

  Crestfallen, Victoria realized that Ransom had been holding back, slowing down so she could keep up. She was also almost out of sight.

  “Be safe,” Victoria murmured, raising her hand in a belated wave. What am I doing?

  Victoria shook herself and got moving. She had to get over this rabbit response whenever Ransom was around. The woman seemed to be able to hypnotize her with a glance.

  By the time Victoria reached the ridge top, Ransom was nowhere to be seen. Far below, the sharp glint of sunlight reflecting on water caught her eye. That must be the pond Ransom was talking about.

  Victoria shielded the phone screen with her hand and turned in a tight circle until she saw the bars go up.

  Bingo! Got it! She thought, freezing in place and hitting #3. After a very long pause she finally heard the phone click and then start to ring. Ransom was not kidding when she said the phone service was horrible out here.

  A male voice answered and she exhaled in relief. For a second there, she thought the connection wouldn’t go through.

  “Sheriff’s office.”

  “Um, I’m a friend of Ransom Greathouse and we are out by the pond and there are poachers on the property.”

  Victoria was winded after her run up the hill. She knew she sounded frantic and out of breath but she couldn’t help it.

  “Hold on, Ma’am.” She could hear a muffled call to find Roy, and then some other rustling noises before a second, older male voice came on the line.

  “Victoria? This is Victoria Carrillo, correct?” The professional concern in his voice relieved her instantly; she was worried she was going to have to argue for someone to come out.

  “Yes, I’m a friend of Ransom’s…” Victoria launched into her spiel again.

  “Yes, I know who you are. What’s wrong?”

  “There’s poachers on the property. Ransom went after them. She told me to tell you they are up by the pond.” Victoria was s
o desperate to get her message relayed and get back to Ransom that her words tumbled over each other.

  “Poachers, huh? Where are you?”

  “Um, I’m not sure. We took the ATV this morning out to the back meadow.” Victoria rubbed her forehead. She was trying to remember everything Ransom had told her. Before today, they had only jogged close to the house, but after all the rain, Ransom needed to check the field cameras. “I think, yes, she said to tell you that they were camped out by the old pond.”

  “The Old Pond? I know exactly where you are. Stay put. I’m on my way.” The Sheriff sighed heavily before hanging up. From the sound of it, he had gotten calls like this from Ransom before.

  Victoria had nothing to do now but wait. She found that despite the burning pain in her legs and lungs she couldn’t stop pacing.

  Not knowing what was happening made everything worse. Victoria narrowed her eyes towards the distant pond, trying to figure out a logical excuse to weasel out of her promise. She didn’t have to go charging in like the cavalry. It would be enough to make sure she was close enough in case Ransom got in trouble and needed her.

  “Ha! Yeah, right. That’s a good one.” Victoria rolled her eyes at the thin as tissue paper excuse. She started pacing again. It didn’t get her anywhere, but at least it kept her muscles from cramping up.

  How long will it take for the sheriff to get here?

  ***

  Oh Victoria, you will pay for making me work so hard to find you.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Ransom found the hunters passing a metal flask between them while they chatted along the edge of the cattail lined pond. From what she could tell, only one of them was armed. The shorter of the two, he held his rifle loosely in the crook of his arm, more concerned with the flask than the rifle.

  Both men wore camouflage from head to toe, a good sign they knew they were somewhere they weren’t supposed to be, doing something they shouldn’t be doing. An honest hunter with tags wore a little orange to keep from getting accidentally shot.

  Ransom resisted the urge to just charge in. She bided her time, noting the staggering gait of the first man, the exaggerated gestures. He stumbled about more than shifted position, and from the sound of it, he thought an awful lot of himself.

  Ransom shook her head and sighed in disgust. She’d only seen one guy on active duty with a pot belly that impressive, and that was an old as dirt Senior Chief who was short enough to his retirement date he had learned how to smile again. Unlike this wannabe, that old chief had earned his end of career urban spread. After years in the service and inhaling more tear gas and crap than most, his vocal cords had shriveled up into pieces of beef jerky that made everything he said sound like it came through a meat grinder. This man’s voice promised to annoy her, whiney with a twist of arrogance.

  The second man was skinnier and seemed to defer to the first. Probably an employee or friend cajoled into coming out to try the new hunting rifle. Maybe a climber hoping to earn some points with the boss. Both were in their early 40’s, and had the greasy, heavy-jowled features she associated with easy living and no exercise.

  She instantly disliked them both.

  That dislike turned to something decidedly darker the closer she came to them. The normally pristine spring fed pond was disturbed by a dark shadow laying close to the water’s edge. Bright red blood ran freely into water that should only hold the reflection of green grass and blue sky. Holding in the coiled violence tightening around her heart, Ransom schooled her expression into something decidedly more pleasant than what was running through her head. She willed herself, chameleon like, into presenting as a lone woman hiking on a country trail, harmless and nonthreatening.

  True camouflage was so much more than an outfit…it was an attitude, the way you walked, talked and held yourself. A woman can learn to bare her teeth beneath a smile and no one would ever be the wiser.

  Those men could wear the uniform every day of the week, and any real soldier would peg them as fakes. Ransom prided herself in being who she needed to be to get the job done. Right now, she wanted to see what these two would do, and she wanted them to think they had the upper hand.

  What she wanted to do wouldn’t work if she approached the two men directly so she continued along the trail, pretending not to notice them. A sidelong glance caught a clearer picture of their kill as she got closer. Now she knew why they felt so proud. Her heart constricted in pain as she saw the distinctive coat and proud antlers of the herd sire. This place was supposed to be their sanctuary, the acreage on this side of the farm protected from hunting for decades.

  Having these troglodytes arrested wasn’t enough; they had just killed the rarest of creatures. She wasn’t against hunting for food, but hunting just for the thrill of it so you could put a trophy on your wall? That was a terrible waste.

  Ransom narrowed her eyes, getting a better look at their faces. They weren’t local boys. Furious now, she put a mental note in the back of her head to find out how they had found out about this place. Someone had to have led them here.

  Ransom felt her nails digging into her palms. The desire to tear through them and demand an answer was almost overwhelming. Come on, already, she urged them on, eager to get this over with.

  A drunken voice called out, the shorter of the two had noticed her and was waving at her to join them. She smiled, and felt frost at the edge of her lips. Big hunter, so proud of his kill and ready to present his prowess to the helpless female.

  She stopped and turned, affecting surprise and more than a little trepidation at finding herself alone with two men in the woods. She hesitated, acting as if she would continue on rather than risk the encounter until they called out again, ensuring her that they weren’t dangerous.

  That’s sweet, boys. Too bad I can’t give that same assurance.

  The minute she walked into their impromptu camp, she wanted to throw up. Their sweat oozed with the smell of old beer and too much cologne, so much so she was surprised they managed to get close enough to anything to shoot it.

  The farm’s protected status had been the buck’s downfall. The herd knew they were safe on this property and had lost some of their fear of humans. The Old Pond was their place of sanctuary, until these assholes invaded it.

  Ransom put up with their puffery and swelled heads for about two minutes.

  “Would you like something to drink?” Asshole #2 asked, holding out the flask and managing not to leer too badly.

  “No, thank you,” Ransom answered politely, noting the ugly frown Asshole #1 quickly wiped off his face. He obviously wasn’t one that liked being said no to.

  “Oh.” Asshole #1 looked disappointed but he tried again. “We have beer, too.”

  Were they really trying to flirt with her? It was time to set things straight.

  “You know what, boys? This property here is owned by a local who really doesn’t like people hunting on their land.” Ransom kept her voice light in order to keep their guard down.

  More blustering verbal accolades as to their physical attributes and ability to fight whatever man might keep them from hunting wherever they please occurred. Ransom didn’t even register what they were saying. Their words descended into gibberish until they were nothing more than an annoying humming in her ears.

  Pigs don’t get to talk in a human voice. Stepping closer, she entered the personal space of Asshole #1, the one with the rifle. His smile widened into a victorious leer, no doubt he thought he had won her over. Reaching her hand out to stroke the cold steel of the rifle barrel, she looked directly into the man’s bloodshot eyes.

  “You know what I like best about a man’s rifle?” she asked sweetly, waiting for the light to turn on in his dim eyes before acting. She moved quicker than his liquor addled mind could comprehend, her free hand coming up under the wooden butt stock as she slammed her palm down on the barrel. That sweet smile turned into a wicked grin as she neatly disarmed the man. The rifle spun rapidly, turning against her
wrist neatly until it rested in her hands at a perfect diagonal angle across her body.

  Pausing dramatically as the man looked down at his empty hands and then up at her, a confused and shocked expression on his face, she answered her own question.

  “Hard butts.” She reared back and slammed the rifle stock with enough force to drop him like a hot rock.

  Ransom chuckled. If he didn’t get her joke now, he would later when he woke up with a killer headache and the impression of a butt stock on his forehead.

  “Hey, what the hell!” Asshole #2 watched his companion crumple to the ground like a sack of grain, then started yelling. That was just fine with Ransom. Then he made the irrevocable mistake of grabbing her by the shoulder and trying to spin her around to get to the rifle. She did nothing he expected. She dropped the rifle, grabbed the offending hand and twisted, her body movement carrying the man with her as she tucked her body under his arm and held on as she moved behind him. The man found himself on his back, staring up at Ransom and wheezing like crazy. “Having a little trouble there taking a deep breath, hmm?” Ransom asked, stepping away and retrieving the rifle.

  “You bitch! You can’t get away with this,” Asshole # 2 snarled at Ransom before suddenly lunging for her. Something hard whizzed by his head, then connected with a loud thump. Before pain met darkness, he heard the woman’s voice above him, the dry tone mocking his assumption.

  “Apparently I can, because I just did.”

  Ransom looked down at her work and felt nothing. She couldn’t until they were gone and she could take care of the mess they had left behind.

  “Not done with you yet, boys,” Ransom muttered, forcing herself to move again. If Victoria had done her job, the Sheriff would be here soon and relieve her of these pitiful excuses for human beings.

  ***

  Victoria spun around. Someone had called out; she hadn’t imagined it.