Wilderness Pursuit

by Michelle Karl

  Suddenly, several flickering objects flew through the windows and the outside shutters slammed closed. Kara jumped to her feet, shock punching a hole through her stomach as the objects hit the floor, exploded on impact and ignited the center of the room.

  “Molotov cocktails!” Tongues of flame instantly licked at Kara’s pants, and she slapped at them with her bare palms. She cried out at the thump of heavy levers latching into place outside. The cabin was once again plunged into darkness, save for the hungry fire that had already spread toward the walls as it followed the droplets of ignition fluid that had splattered everywhere. Shattered glass lay strewn across the floor.

  “The door!” Sam raced for the front door, carefully but quickly sidestepping the fire. He grabbed the handle and turned, grunting in frustration, then slammed his shoulder against the door. It didn’t budge. “It’s been wedged shut.”

  “So we’re trapped?” Kara ran to each window, pushing against them and slamming her fists into the shutters hoping to feel movement, but there was no give. She tried looking back at Sam, but the room had grown thick with smoke. “Is there another way out? A back door?”

  Her eyes watered and she began to cough as the smoke hit her lungs. Where was Sam? Still standing against the door? Had he been cornered? The heat in the room intensified with each passing moment.

  “Kara, come toward my voice.” Sam called to her from deeper in the room, but seeing anything at all was becoming impossible. “I can still see you from where I am. Crouch down and crawl toward me. I’m behind you.”

  She bent her knees and shuffled toward the sound of Sam’s voice. He called to her, offering directions as she moved. Lower to the ground, she found it easier to breathe—but not by much.

  A hand gripped her elbow and tugged. “I’ve got you, Kara. We’re at the far wall, but we need to move. This place is entirely made of wood and might have been weakened by the recent storm. It’s only a matter of time before the roof goes. We don’t want to be in here when that happens.”

  “But where are we going to go? There’s no other way out!” She heard the frantic shriek of her voice, but couldn’t rein it in.

  “The storage cellar,” he said. “We’ll have to get inside it.”

  “The cellar? But—”

  “If the roof collapses, it’ll keep us protected. Trust me.”

  “But the entrance is in the center of the room.” Fear gripped her from head to toe. What if they didn’t make it? What if they passed out from smoke inhalation before they were able to drop inside? “We have to go back in there?”

  Sam’s fingers found the sides of her face and she found herself staring into his eyes, barely visible in the smoky darkness. “It’s going to be all right. Take a deep breath and follow me.”

  She wasn’t sure if she actually believed him, but they had to act immediately...or die. She nodded and his gaze lingered a moment longer, as if making sure that he believed she’d follow through—and then he inhaled, turned away and plunged back into the room, heading straight for the fire.

  Her legs wobbled as she sucked in bitter air and followed behind him. She braced herself for searing heat and the pain of hot fire on bare skin, but then she noticed that Sam had lifted up the panel in the floorboards and was gesturing for her to get inside.

  “You first,” he said, and while part of her wanted to argue, there was no time to think about it. She dropped onto her rear and slid forward into the black hole of the cellar, leaving Sam all alone in the fiery inferno above.

  * * *

  Sam waited until he heard the thump of Kara’s feet on the ground before following suit. He dropped onto his behind and then plunged into the darkness of the cellar, pulling the trapdoor closed behind them. As his feet made contact with the earth, he realized just how loud the roar of the fire above had become. It crackled and spat, and the cabin itself creaked as the timbers weakened. The entire building wouldn’t last long—and neither would they if they didn’t find a way out. At least down inside the cellar, the air was cleaner and cooler, despite the fire right above their heads.

  “Now what?” Kara sounded frantic, and he didn’t blame her. He was actively trying to keep his own voice calm and befitting of a law enforcement professional, but inside he felt just as much panic as she did, if not more. Where were the horses? He had to assume Gaida Industries had tracked him and Kara down and decided to use the situation to their advantage, but had they bothered to untie the horses from beside the cabin before setting it ablaze? The thought of Brenik and Zephyr also being trapped outside, possibly hurting themselves in their panic to escape the blaze, brought waves of rage and revulsion.

  He fumbled around in the dark, searching for the shelving he’d felt down here earlier. He hadn’t taken the time to do much more than grab cans of water, but something told him that whoever had planned ahead enough to stock this cabin with canned water would be the kind of person who had an emergency kit on hand somewhere inside the building.

  “I think I found something,” said Kara. An object made a clicking noise, like it was being shaken—and then a weak light snapped on, illuminating the dark. “A flashlight! Fat lot of good this will do us if we’re trapped down here, though.”

  Sam could have hugged her in gratitude—but only gratitude. He didn’t want to get ahead of himself, and they weren’t exactly on the best emotional terms after their talk earlier. He was still having trouble processing her words. Had she actually never loved him, or was that the statement of a person drowning in fear, anxiety and exhaustion? He suspected the latter, and it didn’t change how he felt. Didn’t mean it hadn’t still hurt to hear, though.

  Kara swung the light around, and his heart leaped with hope, because at the far end of the cellar was...nothing. Not a wall, not a barricade, nothing. The end of the cellar was only darkness, which suggested a hallway or path leading farther underneath the cabin.

  He grabbed several cans of water and handed two more to Kara. “Take these and let’s head that way.”

  “Into the dark? How is that an escape route?”

  “Remember what I said when we first stumbled across this place? How it would make a great hideaway for someone waiting for animals to walk by? The cabin is integrated into the woods, so what better way for a hunter to make sure he doesn’t disturb the animals he’s hunting than to create a built-in hunter’s blind? If I’m right, this narrow path will bring us to a blind about fifteen to twenty meters from the cabin. Perfect for the person living here to stay hidden and stocked with food and water without disturbing the wildlife.”

  Kara hurried toward the other side of the cellar and he followed close behind. The heat had begun to intensify in the small space, and they both jumped at the sound of a thud overhead. “The cabin is coming apart!”

  “That’s why we need to hurry! Go!”

  She reached back for his hand and he took it, trying not to overthink the gesture—after all, they needed to stay connected in the dark, and the weak flashlight barely illuminated their way. For one tense moment, he wondered if perhaps he’d misjudged the pathway, because Kara seemed to slow her pace and tighten her grip on his hand—but then the air shifted, cooling off, and his next breath was a mouthful of clean air instead of hot, dense smoke. The path under their feet began to slant upward. “We must be almost there,” he murmured.

  “Here it is,” Kara said, shining the light on a small wooden panel in front of them. It barely looked big enough to climb out of, let alone escape through quickly. “This is smaller than the trapdoor we came through, but I guess it’d be perfect for lying down on this slight angle and watching for prey.”

  Sam reached for the handle, a rusty-looking metal ring that crunched when he pulled on it. He put a little more force behind the motion, and the panel swung open.

  They both gasped, sucking in the fresh morning air and blinking against the harsh glare as their eyes adjust
ed from being stuck in the dark. And as much as Sam’s hopes for escape had been lifted at finding this doorway, another part of him feared that the moment they stepped outside, one of Gaida Industries’ goons would come charging out of the brush toward them. Would Mike have stationed people at the perimeters of the cabin to ensure that he and Kara didn’t escape? And if so, would they be paying any attention to the surrounding area, or were they so confident in their plan that they wouldn’t even conceive of another possible escape?

  “I guess this actually is the back door,” Kara murmured, though the comment was followed by a slightly hysterical giggle. “Sorry, I’m trying to stay quiet. But this is absolutely ridiculous.”

  “You’re not wrong, and we might even laugh about this later, but for now—”

  “Get out, grab the horses and go.”

  Sam’s heart felt as though it had been trapped in a vise. “If we can even get to the horses. If they weren’t left to burn like us.” The moment the words left his mouth, it was as if someone had opened a tap and drained all of his remaining energy. “And if they are still alive, we’ll probably have to leave them behind.”

  Kara whirled around and grabbed his shoulders, an intensity on her face greater than any he’d seen from her so far. “They’re going to be all right, Sam. Even if we have to leave them, they’re going to be all right. Gaida Industries hasn’t disposed of Brenik and Zephyr yet, and there have been multiple instances where it would have been more convenient to get rid of them. Clearly the foreman or whoever’s calling the shots knows their value—monetarily, anyway—and is unwilling to let that go. And if we have to run without them, it’s okay. We’re going to get them back. I promise.”

  “You promise?” He couldn’t help his incredulity. “How can you promise that?”

  She laughed, but it sounded more like a cough. “You’ve promised more than once that we’re going to get out of these outrageous situations, and each time, we have. Even when neither of us actually believed it was going to happen. So I’m covering all bases here—but I mean it. We’ll rescue them, I know we will.”

  His breath caught in his throat as she gazed up at him, sincerity in her eyes that reflected a concern for his beloved animals instead of mocking him for it. If Kara believed Zephyr and Brenik were going to be all right, then he did, too.

  She stood so close that he had to take a step back, away from the allure of her nearness. “We need to rescue ourselves, first,” he said, and nodded at the exit as he cleared his throat. “We’ll have to be quiet climbing out.”

  “I have a feeling that if anyone is out there, they’ll be watching the fire, waiting for one of us to break through the barricaded windows or door.”

  He shrugged. “You’re probably right, but still. Be careful. Actually, let me go first.”

  She raised one eyebrow at him and then tucked the flashlight into her pocket. “Not a chance.”

  With that, she lay down on her stomach and crawled through the opening on her elbows, shoulders brushing the edges as she passed through. Every muscle in Sam’s body tensed as her hips and then knees slid onto fresh earth. What if someone watching the cabin looked this way? They weren’t far from the blaze—and now that they were emerging into the open, the smell of smoke and fire had grown thick once again.

  He followed Kara through the opening, twisting his shoulders and hips on a diagonal to fit through the space. Once they’d both fully emerged, they crept deeper into the surrounding foliage and moved back from the cabin before pausing behind a thick bush.

  “They could end up lighting the entire forest on fire,” Kara whispered. “I can’t believe they tried to burn us alive. I mean, I can. It’s brilliant and horrifying. But still.”

  A sigh welled up from deep inside, and Sam allowed its release. “I agree. It’s yet another scenario where our deaths could be chalked up to a terrible accident without casting a hint of suspicion on the company. An investigator would be able to tell that the fire originated inside the house and not outside, placing the blame squarely on us.”

  He peered through the bushes, trying to spot the horses. He couldn’t see them, but he also didn’t hear the sounds of frantic, terrified equines, which meant one of two things. Either Zephyr and Brenik had been rescued and led away by their enemies, or...well, he didn’t want to entertain the other thought.

  Kara’s hand landed on his shoulder. “Sam? We’ll come back for them. But now we need to figure out what to do, before—”

  A man emerged from between the trees on the other side of the hunter’s blind, fiddling with his shirt. The man kept his gaze directed toward the blazing cabin, so he didn’t see the little mound of earth with a door in the center—but it was only a matter of time before someone patrolling the area would notice it. If Mike came up to check the remnants of the fire for bodies, he’d surely have the visual acuity to notice their possible escape route.

  He and Kara were not out of the woods yet—not literally or figuratively.

  “Sam?” Kara spoke his name so quietly he wondered for a moment whether he’d imagined it. “What are we going to do?”

  He met her frightened stare with one of his own. Exhaustion filled his limbs. “Honestly? I’m out of ideas. Again.”

  She nodded slowly, peach-pink lips settling into a firm line. “It’s morning. We have water. We have a full day’s worth of sunlight to try finding civilization again.”

  “It’s a risk. We could end up even more lost than we already are.”

  She gave him a hard stare. “Or we could do nothing and end up dead. Let’s be practical about this.” Her head jerked in the direction of the goon nearby, who appeared to be in no hurry to get back to the rest of his team. “We’re not going to last long sitting here, and we’re not going to improve our situation by inaction.”

  Where have I heard that before? “Seems you’re always telling me that.” Kara blanched as she realized what she’d said, but Sam found it brought a smile to his lips. “All right, boss. What do you propose we should do?”

  She squared her shoulders and looked him straight in the eyes. “We’re going to run.”

  TEN

  They slipped backward through the bushes and trees until they could no longer see the burning cabin, but kept a close eye on the surrounding area in case any of the Gaida Industries goons had decided to hang back and watch the destruction from a distance. Kara tried not to think about the overhanging branches and leaves by the cabin that were inevitably catching fire, not to mention the potentially horrific forest fire their enemies’ actions might have caused. When she and Sam made it back to Fort Mason, she was going to help Sam nail these criminals to the wall in as many ways as possible. Not for the sake of revenge—that would be petty and unsatisfying—but for all the damage they’d already caused to this land and the country’s history. And surely this wasn’t the first time they’d attempted such deception. They were far too bold for this to be their first time, and foreman Mike had a lot of confidence in his ability to take human life in creative ways.

  In fact, as she and Sam half ran, half jogged through the forest, trying to put as much distance between them and the cabin as possible, it occurred to her that there actually was no better person to be in this situation with than Sam. He’d been right the night before in his attempts to comfort and reassure her. If she’d been stuck in this situation with anyone else—someone without the same skill set or law enforcement background—she might have died back at the trailer. Or when they were tied up against the tree. And she’d contributed just as much to their escape efforts, as strange as that was to consider. Their skills had been complementary, despite everything else.

  Warm gratitude spurred her on as they jogged, stepping carefully around fallen logs and doing their best to step on clearly visible earth. They couldn’t afford to trip in a hole or stumble over a hidden rock, but it was also difficult to keep one eye on the pa
th beneath their feet and another on their surroundings.

  It wasn’t long before Sam began sucking air between his teeth, but it looked as though he had no plans to slow down. Kara grabbed at his shoulder to tell him to suggest that they pause, but when he complied, his teeth were clenched and pain marked every inch of his face. She dropped into a crouch and he followed suit.

  “We can’t stop for long,” he said, his words a strained hiss. “Our legs might cramp up and seize. We need to keep moving.”

  “We’re not going to keep moving if you’re in pain. Tell me what’s going on.” It was then that she noticed the way he’d balled his hands into fists, holding them tight against his stomach. Her own stomach flopped. “Sam, show me.”

  He shook his head. “We need to go. It’s not important, I’ll be fine. I can push through.”

  Anger rushed forth to take the place of her patience. “Stop it. You have nothing to prove to me, and holding back is only going to put us at risk down the line. We have no idea how long we’ll have to spend running through the woods before we find a road or a town again, so if there’s a problem, let me know before it gets worse and we’re placed in even greater danger.”

  He sighed heavily, but made no effort to resist as she pulled his wrists toward her. She glanced at his face, looking for permission, but all she saw was a strained grimace. She ran her thumb along the knuckles of his left hand, and when he didn’t flinch or yank back, she began uncurling each finger, one at a time.

  She had to stifle a gasp. Angry, red skin puffed up all over his palm, and she recognized the telltale signs of fluid beginning to form under the dead, burned flesh. “When did this happen?”

  He refused to meet her eyes. “When I grabbed the handle to go down to the cellar. It was a metal handle.”

  A metal handle, so close to the fire in the cabin that of course it had become dangerously hot. “Why didn’t you say anything? We have water. We could have poured it on right away!”