The Suitcase

by T V Scribner

Paisley had no idea where she was. The bouncing and jouncing, as she jerked around bends in the road and splashed through mud and water, had caused her to slow down—but still, there were no lights behind her—as far as she knew! The rain seemed to have lessened, which encouraged her.

  "I want this to be over,” she moaned, "I need to find a safe place to stop! Please, Boone, find me!" The windshield-wipers did double-duty, as they struggled to wipe away not only the rain, but now the mud, which splashed onto the windshield, leaving gritty brown streaks with every swipe. And even though she hadn't seen headlights for a while, she had no plans to stop, even though the mud added a new dimension of difficulty.

  Boone drove like a maniac through the rain, as he sent a cell phone transmission to Riley, at headquarters, "There's a problem,” and he informed him of the turn of events. "I'll be in contact as soon as I get back, with Ingles, but right now I have to pay attention to my driving!" With his eyes glued to the road, Boone made good time, as he forced his truck through the ferocious storm.

  Without traffic to deal with, he pushed his speed, while still contending with the darkness, and the rain, as it came in torrents. Before long, he reached the area where Ingles had last contacted him.

  With no further information, he had to guess the path she took. He stayed on the road as it began to head toward town, and was scarcely able to catch her second communication, concerning her course change into the rural area.

  Meanwhile, Paisley drove on, twisting and winding around and down small hills, and low places, like a roller-coaster, which must be ridden, to the end. The landscape rushing past seemed to be changing, as the brush became thicker and the trees larger. Her car began climbing, as the hills steepened, while the never-ending downpour intensified.

  She desperately wanted to turn off the road, but there was nowhere to turn. With visibility still a problem, she began to slow the Jeep, as the road morphed, into a series of sharp turns. The driver's side of the road became steeper, with a dirt wall emerging, while on the passenger side, the road appeared to drop off.

  All at once, the road veered to the right, and Paisley spun the wheel sharply to the left, to avoid the roads edge, but the Jeep slipped off the muddy road anyway, plunging into a steep ravine.

  Brush scratched against the sides of the car, sounding like fingernails on a chalkboard, as she zigzagged around branches and large, jutting rocks. The ground leveled out, and the Jeep slowed, jolting into a ditch and up onto another road.

  She was relieved, until rounding the next bend. Looming ahead, she could just make out a huge tree, which had fallen across the road. With no way of avoiding it, she yanked the wheel to the right and stood on the brakes, but it was too late.

  The Jeep pitched down another embankment, through dense brush, slowing the Jeep's speed as it plummeted into a deep gorge. It came to a stop, as it crashed head on, against a tall stump, standing up, in a fetid pool of ooze, consisting of mud and algae. She had no time to scream, as everything went black.

  CHAPTER 26

  Cayuna Iron Range

  Boone drove as fast as he could, repeatedly calling Ingles, with no response, until finally receiving her brief message, concerning the turnoff she'd taken. Her phone cut out before he could say anything, and though he kept trying, he was unable to contact her again. Following the road through the downpour, he searched to determine Ingles' path, all the while, looking for suspicious cars. He arrived in Crosby/Ironton, and slowed to look for the turnoff described, by Ingles.

  After a short distance, he noticed a fork in the road where he decided to turn left. Veering onto this road, he hoped he’d made the right choice, and continued driving. Not quite a mile later, he was on a mud-covered dirt road, trying to determine if it had seen recent use, but it was impossible to ascertain, under present weather conditions. However, soon he noticed signs that his intuition proved correct.

  Broken branches hung from low-hanging trees, lining the dirt road. He stopped, jumped out of his truck and grabbed a few branches in the road, to examine them, getting drenched in the process. He looked closely at the broken ends, and saw there were signs of having been, recently broken.

  Also, foliage appeared to be mashed into the mud, and Boone knew it only meant one thing—a car had driven through recently. But was it Ingles'? Boone felt frustrated, having no idea where he was, or how to find her. Climbing back in his truck, his heavy jacket dripping, from exposure to the rain, he continued driving the difficult road, all the while looking for signs of headlights, or tail lights.

  He pressed on, remaining vigilant, as he looked for proof he was on the right track. Thunder resumed along with occasional lightning strikes. Several times he stomped on his brakes around hairpin turns, while his back-end fishtailed, but he still pushed his speed. He bounced down to a secondary rode.

  Large rocks loomed ahead, and he maneuvered around them, running rough-shod over brush and small branches, until he found himself barely able to stop in time, from sliding down a steep and muddy embankment. Turning sharply, around a bend, he immediately hit the brakes, preventing his truck from colliding with a huge tree, uprooted by the storm and deposited across the road.

  With his engine running, he disembarked to assess the situation, hurrying around to the front of his truck, and that’s when he noticed crushed bushes at the road's edge. Taking a closer look, crushed foliages pointed to something large, having gone over the edge, and plummeted down the steep embankment.

  He stood at the road's edge trying to see below, but visibility was nil, in the darkness and rain. Boone was compelled to explore the possibility that Ingles may have come this way and gone over the embankment. Hurriedly, he jumped in his truck, threw it in reverse and backtracked around the curve, continuing backwards until he found an opening in the thick underbrush, where he could drive his truck deep into the brush, hoping it wouldn't be detected.

  With a sense of urgency, he grabbed his backpack from the back seat, and scurried down the embankment, to search for Ingles’ and her Jeep. He tumbled through thick brush, stepped over tree stumps and strong-armed his way through the bushes and low-hanging tree branches, until he almost made it to the bottom of the ravine.

  There, through a small clearing in the brush, he spotted the back fender of her Jeep. It's a miracle, he thought, tantamount to finding a needle in the proverbial haystack! Breathing heavily from his arduous descent, as he clambered down the small embankment, he approached the Jeep with great trepidation.

  Boone attempted to open its back door to see if Ingles was still inside, but the car had lodged at an angle between a large bolder and a tree stump, and was almost camouflaged with brush and mud..it was impossible to see anything through the windows.

  When the car door wouldn't budge, Boone ran to the other side, calling out her name, hoping she wasn't injured. The passenger door was jammed also, so he kicked in the back window. He created an opening, and when he looked inside, he saw her slumped over the steering wheel, covered with remnants of broken glass, from the front windshield.

  He climbed through the opening and over the back seat to the front, where she slumped. He leaned over, and detected she was still breathing. “Ingles! Ingles!”…he shook her gently until she rolled her head towards him. There was a bad bruise and some blood on her forehead, probably from hitting it on the steering wheel at impact.

  "What…happened?" she mumbled and tried to sit up, but couldn't.

  "Don't try to move yet," he said. "It looks like you've hit your head on the steering wheel. However, fortunately, the Jeep's airbag didn't deploy, or it might have added to your injuries."

  She let out a few moans, seeming dazed, disgruntled and disoriented, as she struggled up, trying to make sense of things. Boone checked to make sure there were no broken bones, then carefully helped her out through the back window, and put his arm around her waist to help steady her.

  But, she removed his arm, "I can do this myself!" She took a few steps to get her equilibrium, then thou
ght better of it and sat down on a nearby tree stump, and put her head in her hands.

  "I think you're okay, except for your bruised head. No broken bones, You were very lucky! How do you feel?"

  "Yes, lucky…I feel okay. No broken bones, just a wrecked car." She made a sad face. "Thanks for coming!"

  "Tell me what happened," he said, taking a bottle of water from his backpack and letting her take a drink.

  She recounted the story. Boone listened with concern, when suddenly, he grabbed her hand and yanked her to her feet, before she could catch her breath. Off they went. He led the way, dragging her behind him. She attempted to pick up her pace as they scrambled further down the embankment and into the underbrush, then he suddenly stopped.

  "Hey! What are you doing?" she asked, I wasn’t expecting this quick start and stop!”

  "Sorry I didn't give you any warning, but are you able to do some moving?" They both stood there, drenched, cold, and covered with mud.

  "Moving? If I have to—what's going on?"

  Boone put his finger to his lips to shush her again, and said in a whisper, "Listen!" He stood very still and so did she.

  “I hear something on the road above us, and I think I saw a light. Do you think you can run?"

  "Yes…I guess so?" she whispered hesitantly, and they took off down the hillside as quickly and quietly as they could, without stopping for the greater part of an hour.

  Paisley, had a splitting headache and her shoulder felt achy. Once, she fell, as they were running through a thicket, and bruised her knee on a large rock, jutting from behind a tree. Boone began to slow down when he saw a spot with heavy vegetation, and led Paisley into its thick center.

  "Here," he said, "we'll rest for a while until we can devise a plan for getting back to civilization.”

  She was totally in favor of this idea, because she was exhausted and sore. Boone gathered pine branches from the nearby trees and laid them down on the drenched earth inside the vegetation, as a bit of protection from the soggy ground. They both laid down on the pine branches, and while they caught their breath, he inquired as to how she was feeling.

  "I'll live,” she said, "besides my headache, my shoulder feels like I might have sprained it, and I bruised my knee back there when I fell, but I'll be fine…still a little dizzy, but that's all."

  The rain slowed to a steady drizzle, as the heavy vegetation kept most of it from falling directly on them.

  "Sorry, Ingles, but no fire tonight, it would give away our position."

  "Now that we've stopped running for the moment," she whispered, "can you tell me what just happened?"

  "Well, I thought I heard car engines from up on the road, so apparently even though you lost them for the time being, I feel like they haven't given up trying to locate you. I left my car hidden off-road in the brush, but I'm sure they know you didn't drive over that big tree in the road, which means they searched and found my car too, and the next thing they'll do, is come down the hill searching for both of us—that's why we had to put some distance between us."

  "What are we going to do now? This is scary!”

  “Here, take my backpack and use it as a pillow…I’ll lean against this tree. Now we're going to rest. I'll keep watch, then we'll figure a way out of here, so we can get help. We'll talk more later, right now you need rest, so you'll be ready when it's time to move."

  There was no response, so he turned his head towards her...she was already asleep. Boone awakened Ingles a scant forty minutes later, and as they emerged from their temporary shelter, he scurried further down the embankment, with her in tow.

  "What are you doing?" Paisley asked, "Why are we running again, I thought we left them behind?"

  "It's important to keep moving, you can ask questions later, right now, just do as I say."

  Annoyed, she followed him as they ran and half slid down another incline into deeper underbrush, with Boone picking his way through the trees and vegetation to get deeper, into the dense forest. At last, they came to a small brush covered ravine, and climbed down about ten feet, over some large rocks, until Boone spotted a cave-like opening almost invisible, because of the brush surrounding it.

  "Eureka!" he said.

  “How corny,” she said, “who says eureka anymore?"

  He ignored her comment, as they both entered the small hidden cave. Once inside, they sat down on a couple of large rocks to catch their breath, for the second time that night.

  "Can you please explain what's going on?" Paisley questioned again, with a slight edge to her voice. "Obviously, we've left, whoever those men were, behind us, and surely they're not going to try to follow us down this hideous path, in this terrible weather and rough terrain!"

  "Listen!" He said, and sat up, alert and quiet.

  She listened. "Listen to what? I hear drizzling rain and an occasional far-away clap of thunder…so?"

  "So, that's right, except—I hear another sound!" he said defiantly, with great seriousness.

  This puzzled her as she rubbed her sore ankle, which she’d twisted, "Okay, I'll bite. What is the sound that you hear?" She rolled her eyes and stretched out on the ground, not in the mood to play guessing games.

  He was only slightly amused at her intonation and said, "It's a helicopter!"

  "A helicopter?" She sat up, again. "So, what? What's the big deal?"

  "Because," he said, even more serious this time, as he looked directly at her, "I'm afraid that copter is looking for us!"

  Her voice went up an octave as she said, "What? Why? What makes you think that?"

  "Let me put it this way," Boone began, "I'm afraid we—you—have something, which someone really wants, and is determined to do whatever it takes to get it."

  Still flabbergasted and mouth gaping, Paisley said, "We? Me? What are you talking about? Why would you think that? It's ridiculous!" then she leaned back on her elbow, and winced due to a large scrape just below it, and waited for an answer.

  "C'mon—get up—we need to move again!”

  She begrudgingly stood up, brushed herself off, and they left the cave and continued forward, "I still don't know what you're talking about!” She was annoyed.

  They trudged up a small slope for several minutes, as the rain began in earnest, again. After they'd traveled silently for a bit, he stopped, turned and eyed her carefully, said in a quiet, but serious voice, "Not as ridiculous as you might think, I have knowledge that some bad people are looking for something in this area, and I have reason to believe that we—or you—have some sort of information pertaining to it, that they want."

  She scoffed, and said, "Right," drawing the word out slowly. "You have reason to believe? Believe what?"

  "Shhhh...!" He suddenly raised his hand to quiet her. "Listen!" She did. He shoved her under some large plants at the base of a nearby tree and dove in after her. She hit the ground hard and scraped her chin.

  "Hey! Take it easy!" she lamented.

  The noise came slowly closer until it was no longer speculation, as to what made the noise. There, hovering above some nearby trees was a copter, with its rotors beating loudly, stirring the branches on the surrounding trees and kicking up debris, as it flew low, over the area, circling around and crisscrossing the terrain.

  The copter utilized a searchlight, which traced a moving pattern over the trees and brush. It searched carefully, as it hung low over the area, like some huge prehistoric bird. Through the heavy brush covering them, Paisley stared skyward in disbelief, assessing the ramifications of this turn of events.

  For the moment, they sat huddled at the foot of the tree, and Boone grabbed dead leaves and fallen branches, pulling them up, around and on top of them, to better conceal them from view, while the copter continued to move closer, raking the area with its light.

  Eyes wide, Paisley turned to look searchingly at Boone, and whispered,”What is going on?”

  CHAPTER 27

  Boone couldn't hear her with the noise overhead, but read her lips, ma
naging to utter a scoffing noise at her question, and said into her ear, "You tell me! Is there something you're keeping from me? What do they want with you? Please, be open with me," he said, "but—we can discuss this later, right now we're both in danger and need to stay out of sight!" The chopper eventually moved away, and as it searched further away, the noise faded, and the night became quiet once more, except for the sound of the rain droplets, as they made their way through their cover.

  When Paisley’s heart stopped pounding, she asked, "Why would they be targeting me?"

  “Well, for starters, how abut the burger place where Kamorov was murdered, where you're a well-known and frequent visitor? You were there and found the body! And it was your Aunt's house, which someone ransacked. Also, we can't forget Ivan—someone murdered him and we discovered he’s connected to the currently deceased Kamorov!”

  "Yes, but..."

  "And last, but not least,” he continued, “let's not forget to mention, all these people are Russian—including your Aunt! Then, there’s the fact that people were chasing you tonight! Are they Russian too? It does make one wonder?”

  Surprised by his comments, she said, “Wow! I didn’t see this coming…you’ve obviously given this lots of thought!” She felt attacked.

  Instead of answering, his attention was elsewhere, as he peeked out from their hiding spot, to see where the chopper was, as the noise of the rotors could no longer be heard. Paisley, felt as if time slowed, like a train coasting to an inevitable stop. They remained silently, in their hiding spot for a while longer—just to be safe.

  "I think it's time to move on," Boone finally said, and stood up, helping Ingles to her feet. She groaned as she stood, because for the few minutes she'd been sitting, her body had stiffened and now Boone wanted her to get moving again!

  "Why move? Why don't we stay here until the sun comes up? It would be easier to move in the morning, because with daylight, we could figure out where we are, and how to get back to civilization."