by R. Gualtieri
♦ ♦ ♦
Danni put her ear to the ground again. She thought she’d spotted lights in the distance, but also realized her mind, combined with the surrounding marsh, could be playing tricks on her.
Her heart leapt in her throat when she heard the faint thud of footsteps. Again, hard to tell how far off, but she was convinced they were louder this time, and that meant they were closer.
Though it was hard to tell in the oppressive darkness, the area she was in felt similar to where they’d been ambushed. She’d found several more snares and trip wires since encountering the first one, drawing a mental map of where they were in relation to her.
If she was right in her assumption, that meant her team’s base camp was less than an hour away. She longed to run to it, lock herself up in the supply tent, and pretend she was safe, but that was the plan of a scared child hiding from monsters under the bed. The truth was the camp, without her friends there waiting for her, offered neither shelter nor succor from the creatures chasing her down.
She needed to find a secure place that would give her enough cover to hide or – if discovered – stand and fight. It was time to act.
Danni had noticed a bog close by that would suit her needs. She leaned her weapons against a tree, regretting putting them down for even a few moments, but it had to be done. Tearing off a section of her shirt, she emptied the shells from her pockets, wrapped them up, and placed them at the foot of the tree where the weapons lay.
That finished, she turned toward the bog, the waters glimmering beneath the faint starlight shining down from above.
This is going to suck.
She stepped to the edge of the water, feeling her feet starting to stick in the thick mud. Then she lay down and rolled in the unpleasant muck – trying to coat every inch of herself. It was cold and vile to the extreme but in a pinch, nature provided the very best camouflage one could hope for ... so long as one didn’t succumb to hypothermia first.
She coated her skin, her clothes, her hair, every part that could potentially stand out from the darkness of the surrounding woods, until she was certain that only the whites of her eyes could potentially give her away.
Finally, her teeth chattering from the cold mud touching her everywhere, she clawed her way back to her feet and made to step away from the brackish water.
A bit of dirt fell into her eyes, obscuring her vision. As she tried to blink it away, her feet caught on something sticking out of the mud and she tripped over it, burying her face into even more of the muck.
She pushed herself up, silently cursing her clumsiness, and coughed the mud out of her mouth and nostrils.
All my training and I still trip over a log.
Except, it hadn’t felt like a log. There’d been some give to it, a fact testified by her lack of stubbed toes. She was about to dismiss it as nothing more than a mound of mud, but could still feel the protrusion beneath her legs and it definitely felt more solid than just a lump of dirt.
Taking a few moments she didn’t have, Danni began to feel around, expecting to find nothing more interesting than maybe a mound of rotting vegetation.
But then her hand closed upon something and she froze. Praying she was wrong, she felt further and confirmed it. Beneath the muck and grime lay what she was certain was the toe of a leather boot.
Momentarily forgetting the danger she was in, she began to dig with her fingers, using the feeble light from above as best she could. After several seconds, there was no denying she’d uncovered a pair of human legs at the edge of the water. The top half of the body was partially submerged in the bog.
Danni grabbed hold and pulled with everything she had. It was slow going, the mud as cold and slippery as ice, but she managed to drag the corpse from the water.
Please no, please no, please no!
She began to feel along the body with her hands, wiping away the muck as best she could, praying that she felt some deformity, anything that would tell her this wasn’t one of her friends.
Pants, a waterlogged shirt... There was something around its waist – a belt with a knife scabbard. The weapon was still in its sheath. She drew it and held it up, the blade glinting in the meager starlight. It looked like a World War 2 Ka-Bar ... the same kind that Francis wore, a gift from his grandfather who had fought in the Pacific Theater.
“Oh God, no!”
Though it was too dark to know for certain, she had to be sure. She reached up until she found the body’s face. Though muck-encrusted, the man’s heavy beard was easily identified by touch.
She’d found one of her missing friends.
CHAPTER 35
Grief, anger, shock, all of it fought for dominance inside of Danni’s mind at the discovery of Francis’s remains.
Sadly, he was beyond help, his body well in the grip of rigor mortis. Those murdering monsters had done this – killed him and taken her as little more than cattle.
Danni was tempted to scour the area for signs of Derek. As much as she didn’t want to admit it, he’d likely met the same fate. Sadly, she also knew it was stupid. Trying to search the shore and surrounding bog in the dark was pointless. The only reason she’d found Francis was dumb luck. She could have easily walked past him and never seen him at all.
Searching for Derek would also leave her vulnerable, something none of her teammates would’ve wanted.
Still, it was hard for her to leave her friend’s side. Derek might have been a sort of father figure since she’d joined the team but, if so, Francis had been a big brother to her. He and his wife had welcomed her into their lives with open arms as if they’d known her for years.
Her heart broke even further as she thought of Shakti. Though different as two people could be, she and Francis had been dearly in love. The dead were beyond pain, but for the living, it would be just beginning. And the hurt would last for a long time. She knew that pain all too well, knew how long the wounds from her brother’s death had remained raw and open.
She vowed to be there for her. But first she had to survive. There was no doubt in her mind that’s what her teammates would want for her, even if she was the lone member to make it out of this.
And she had to wonder about that. With Francis and Derek gone, she realized just how alone she was. There was no telling if Mitch was out there somewhere searching for her or if he’d already tried, only to meet the same fate. Unfortunately, speculating either way was a bad idea, as it would inevitably lead her mind to dark places.
Though she knew her people wouldn’t ever give up on her, she couldn’t say the same for those who’d summoned them to this godforsaken state. The governor and his men were a joke, seeking to do nothing but cover this up. With them as her only backup, there was little doubt that she was on her own.
And that meant Sophie, still back at the compound, had no one but her to rely on.
Survival should have been the only thing on her mind, but the more she thought of her friends, Sophie, and any others still held prisoner, the more anger began to take the place of grief and fear.
Those sons of bitches. How many lives had they destroyed over the years? Tens, dozens, more?
Danni blinked away her tears just as something from off in the distance caught her eye – the briefest of illuminations through the trees. A trick of the light? Swamp gas?
She kept her eyes peeled in the direction it had come from, the same she’d fled from. As she kept watch, her soiled lips pulled back from her teeth in a snarl.
There! This time it was unmistakable. The dim light from a lantern. They were coming.
She remembered back to Bonanza Creek, the feeling of being hunted – of being helpless as monsters pursued her. And now it was happening all over again.
No! Not this time.
In the space of a second, Danni made up her mind.
She took the knife and scabbard from Francis’s body and strapped it to the belt she’d purloined from Adam’s room. It wasn’t l
ong before all thoughts of survival were pushed to the side in favor of revenge.
♦ ♦ ♦
They were getting close, he could feel it. Noah just hoped that Sarah had gotten tripped up on a snare again. If so, this would be easy. She’d be his and there wouldn’t be any question about it this time. He’d take her home and make her his wife proper. But what if it wasn’t a snare? If she’d run afoul of any of the other traps – set in a bid to keep strangers out of their lands – that would be bad. He’d likely be robbed of his rightful prize.
No matter. There was that other Sarah back at the compound, Though wed to Samuel, Noah’s older cousin, his pa had taken a shine to her and she’d been brought to his bed more than once. But Pa was dead now. As for Samuel, he wasn’t anything Noah couldn’t handle. If his Sarah was stolen from him, he’d take his cousin’s instead.
In fact, maybe he’d take them both.
Why not?
Noah glanced at Ezekiel in the darkness. His uncle thought he was stupid. Thought that because Noah was big and couldn’t speak very well that he was a dullard. But there was nothing wrong with Noah’s mind. In his head he spoke eloquently, but the gifts he’d been given were more for hunting and fighting than for giving a sermon.
It was a pity, because he used to listen with great aplomb to his father’s stories about their ancestor and how he’d fooled the townspeople into leaving his kin alone through the use of his golden tongue alone. That was the type of power he truly wished for – to motivate men with nothing more than his words. But it wasn’t to be.
He’d been blessed, as had others before him, with a form better suited to protecting their home and the woods surrounding it. He was strong, swift, and tough. But, despite all of that, he was already breathing heavily, his respiration thick and loud in the otherwise quiet woods. It was his one weakness – a lack of stamina – the lone cross the good Lord had burdened him with.
Though he’d never been to an actual doctor’s office, on some level he was aware of the malformed lungs he’d been born with – too small to properly aerate his large body. That was the real reason he stayed at Ezekiel’s side, not the older man’s delusions of leading the clan.
No, only someone strong could lead the family. Noah wasn’t stupid. He was well aware that he was the strongest, had been for some time. His pa had been strong too but, perhaps more importantly, the others respected him. It was that respect which had stayed Noah’s hand. But now he was gone. The others respected Ezekiel too, but only as an elder, not a leader.
Once they found Sarah and brought her back home, he’d make his move. He’d show his kin, all of them, that he was the rightful heir to the family. If his uncle accepted that, so be it. If not, then Noah would snap his spine without a second thought as a warning to the rest.
Though it hurt his chest to do so, he quickened his pace, but then realized the others had slowed down up ahead. They’d reached the edge of their property, the hidden maze of surprises meant to trap or maim intruders. Though each of them had studied the map made each season as snares were moved and old traps replaced, it was still foolish to barrel through in the dark. But if it slowed them down, it would certainly slow Sarah even more so.
Noah coughed up a thick wad of phlegm, spat it out, then smiled.
His new bride was near. He could feel it. Near, alive, and ready to receive his seed so as to give birth to a new generation of his family.
♦ ♦ ♦
Derek held up his hand for the others to stop as he leaned against a tree and tried to catch his breath. The exertion was taking its toll on him. He was either sweating more than usual or he’d reopened some of his wounds. It was hard to tell. But there was no turning back now. Even if it took his dying breath, he vowed to bring his people back safe ... if he was able to.
Mitch joined him after telling Julia and Arthur to hold their position and keep an eye out. “You okay?” he whispered.
“Peachy.”
“I could give you a stimulant. That is, if you’re in the mood to risk a heart attack.”
“Is that the upside?”
“Not really. The upside is you could probably landscape this entire forest before you dropped dead.”
“Save it. We might need new careers after this is over.”
“Seriously, are you all right?”
“Just waiting for my second wind,” Derek replied, “but that’s not the only reason I stopped. Check it out.” He bent low and gestured for Mitchell to do the same. The red light of his headlamp illuminated a rope lying at ankle height across the path.
“Trip wire?”
“Not exactly military grade, but it doesn’t need to be. Someone just hiking along would never see it, especially in the dark.”
“Is this the spot where they ambushed you guys?”
“No. Pretty sure we’re still a bit south.”
They took a few moments to study the trap. Tripping over it would release a branch under tension, one with several sharpened stakes tied to it. It would be a nasty surprise to anyone unlucky enough to set it off.
Mitchell let out a low whistle. “These guys must have a lot of time on their hands to...”
“Hey, what’s the holdup?”
Derek turned toward Julia. “We’re getting close. From here on in, we go silent. No talking unless absolutely necessary. Headsets on, and nobody try to be a hero. That’s a good way to die out here.”
The oppressive darkness around them gave greater weight to the seriousness in Derek’s voice. Neither she nor Arthur questioned him. As for the kid, he looked wide-eyed, the reality of the situation obviously starting to sink in, but so far, he was holding it together.
“Switch to channel 3, privacy code 19.” Derek adjusted his radio and then turned on his Bluetooth ear piece. The rest all followed suit at his instruction. “I think we just passed the border into the Lesterfields’ territory. From here on in, shit gets real. Last chance to back out.”
“I think there’s a new episode of Game of Thrones on tonight.”
Derek narrowed his eyes at Mitchell, who smiled and held up his hands. “I’m just saying.”
“I’m not leaving without my sister,” Julia said.
The iron in her voice heartened Derek, but also worried him. “Rescue first, revenge later.”
She didn’t answer him, opting instead to check her gun again.
Arthur went to chamber a round in his weapon, but before he could pull the pump, Derek shook his head. “Not yet. Save it for when there’s something to shoot at, and only if you need to. This isn’t a video game.”
The kid didn’t look like he appreciated being talked down to but, rather than argue, he simply asked, “How do you know this is the place?”
“Everyone back up a bit.” Derek stepped to the side and kicked out, triggering the trap.
The branch flew free, striking the area he and Mitchell had been standing in moments earlier.
Audible gasps escaped from their new teammates’ lips at what could have befallen them.
“Any questions?” he asked into the stunned silence. Okay, good. Julia, you’re right behind me. Then Arthur. Mitch, take up the rear. Oh, and everyone ... make sure to watch your step.”
♦ ♦ ♦
“Watch your fucking step!” Eric hissed as Bob stumbled into him, almost causing him to lose his footing on the muddy ground.
“Sorry, boss. I think I stepped in a gopher hole or something.”
“Well, watch it. Last thing I want is you tripping and shooting me in the back.”
“We should’ve brought the ATVs,” Muellenberg griped from a few paces off to his right.
“I already told you,” Eric replied, “they’d hear the engines coming from a mile off. Sound carries in the woods. Same with voices, so keep yours down and your lights pointed low. I don’t want us giving away our position because we were too busy falling over our own fucking feet.”
There were mutt
ered acknowledgments all around. Eric had to admit, he was starting to rethink this plan. It was ridiculously easy to take a few steps in any direction and lose one’s bearings in this shit show.
The professional in him had assumed this would be easy, no different than walking through a dark backyard. Hell, he’d watched enough survival shows on TV to think he had it all figured out. But the reality was proving to be different.
Even with their lights, it was oppressively dark. And that was only the start of it. The shadows played tricks with one’s mind. More than once, a member of his group had pulled their sidearm and aimed it at what turned out to be nothing more than a tree.
Hell, even Eric wasn’t immune. About fifteen minutes earlier, he’d turned his head and glimpsed what he could have sworn was a massive fur-covered figure staring at them from behind some tall bushes. It had taken every ounce of self-control he had to not scream. But when he looked again it was gone – nothing more than a figment of his imagination, or so he hoped.
They were all getting jumpy. He had to continually remind his men that they were there to find Jenner’s crew and escort them the fuck out of the state, not blow them away on sight. That would be just his luck – for someone to shoot first, all because they were spooked of boogeymen lurking in the woods.
He couldn’t entirely blame them, though. The urge to draw his gun and turn off the safety was almost overwhelming.
Eric took a moment to check the GPS on his phone. No signal, but thankfully it was still triangulating via satellite. They were almost there, or at least he thought they were. He was giving it his best guesstimate. Either way, he hoped they were close.
The more they walked through this dark, damp hell, the angrier he got. Though Eric intended to do his job, he wouldn’t have minded if that wannabe celebrity gave him enough shit to justify decking him across the jaw. Something like that would be extremely satisfying.
It was that thought which kept him going long after he wanted to call it a night and deal with the consequences tomorrow.