Sarah glanced at David’s unconscious body, then to Man-bun. The baton was clutched in her hand and positioned behind her lower leg.
He turned toward Sarah, then pointed at David’s body. “You should feel good. You saved a life today. Bravo.”
The tattoo on his forearm came into view and gave Sarah a cleaner look. She gasped. A shockwave of panic pulsated straight to her core. It was the same marking she had seen on the photo David had in Jess’s file. The man who had killed her daughter.
A wave of emotions crashed into Sarah like a tidal wave. Her mind was drowning in a sea of emotions that caused her to panic and act on impulse.
The man turned toward the door, offering his back to her. It was now or never.
Sarah removed her arm from behind her back and flicked the handle with a snap of her wrist. The wand telescoped out to a full-size baton.
The noise snared Man-bun’s attention. He flinched, then jerked his chin toward Sarah.
She struck his hand that wielded the pistol. The weapon discharged as he lost his hold on the grip. The single round punched the floor near their feet. The pistol clattered on the planks of wood.
A venomous, spiteful scowl swept over Sarah’s face as she continued to strike the man with the baton. She was angry and scared, and wanted nothing more than to exact a pound of flesh from the man who stood before her.
Man-bun held his arms up to deflect the punishing blows. Each hard strike from the metallic club smashed into his arm. He growled and knocked her arm down.
Sarah swatted at his thigh, unwilling to give up. He reeled back. A snarl fled his lips as he grabbed her arm and ripped the baton from her grasp.
“You’re going to pay for that,” he said.
Sarah dropped to the floor and went for the pistol next to his feet. Her fingers wrapped around the grip as he grabbed a handful of her hair.
“Get off me.” Sarah pointed the pistol at the man’s stomach.
Man-bun grabbed the barrel and twisted it from her hand before she could pull the trigger. He shoved Sarah backward toward to the middle of the living room.
Her feet tangled and sent her hard to the floor.
The back of her head slammed against the coffee table. Stars formed in the corners of her eyes. Sarah grimaced in pain as she rolled to her side.
Heavy footfalls stomped across the floor in her direction. Sarah tried to move, but was slow to respond. Her head throbbed and her vision blurred. She cradled the back of her head and tried to sit up.
The shadowy silhouette towered over her. He clutched the baton in his hand with a firm grip as he breathed hard through his nose.
“You just couldn’t listen, could you?” he asked, angry and upset. “Neither could your friend when we picked her up. Guess your cop buddy over there is going to pay the price all because of you.”
Sarah peered over to David and squinted through the pain that lanced through her skull. She thought she spotted him stirring on the floor, but couldn’t be sure.
She closed her eyes and shook her head, worried that she had sealed both of their fates.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
RUSSELL
Johnson cradled his hand. He kept it close to his chest as he cut his eyes up to Russell. His body shook–sweat populated his brow and raced down from his damp hairline. Strings of spit clung to his chapped lips as he fought to control his anger.
Russell didn’t bat an eye at what he had done. Choices were made. The deputy had gotten what he deserved.
“It doesn’t look that bad,” Russell said, with a harsh tone. “Can you move your fingers?”
Johnson’s hand quaked. The flesh was a reddish color with lacerations running across it. His fingers twitched and bent as he grumbled in pain. “Yeah. Just hurts like hell.”
“Consider yourself lucky, pal,” Russell replied with a stone-cold expression. “I could’ve done to you what you were going to do to me. At least you can walk and use that hand. For now, anyway.”
Both Max and Butch continued barking from the base of the cliff. Their deep throated voices carried up the side of the exposed earth to the ridge.
Russell craned his neck and spotted the anxious canines pacing about with their heads raised to the sky. He waved his hand in the air, then whistled.
Max’s tail waged back and forth as his tongue hung from the side of his maw. Butch looked pissed and angry, but that wasn’t anything new. Russell figured that was his normal look considering his breed and from what he had seen of the large beast.
“Man. Those dogs really do hate you,” Russell said, as he cut his gaze down to the deputy.
“Yeah, well, the feeling is mutual,” Johnson shot back. “I wouldn’t lose an ounce of sleep if either of those mutts caught a bullet or got hit by a car.”
Russell didn’t care for the harsh words spoken toward the dogs that had saved his bacon more than once. Without Max, he would’ve been torn apart and devoured by that mountain lion that stalked him through the woods after his plane went down.
“I’d imagine they feel the same way about you,” Russell said. “I don’t think they’d mind using you for a chew toy if I gave them permission, either.”
Johnson scoffed, then rolled his eyes. “Whatever. They’re not even your dogs. You might gain some ground with Max, but that cane corso is a different ball game. That mutt would tear your arm off if he was so inclined. I’m not the only threat out here and neither is the wild life. You’d be wise to remember that, city boy.”
Whatever, Russell thought while listening to the babble spill from the deputy.
Russell grabbed Johnson by the arm and pulled him off the ground. A grunt of pain erupted from the deputy’s pursed lips. He patted away the dirt and grass that clung to his uniform. Russell peered at his duty belt, searching for the officer’s hand cuffs.
The steel restraints were secured in a leather holder on the far side of his waist. Russell reached around and pulled them out.
He shoved the steel restraints into the deputy’s chest. “Put these on.”
Johnson glanced down to the silver cuffs, then took them from Russell. There was no snappy taunt or quip offered from the disgruntled deputy.
The clicking of the ratchet teeth melded with the deputy’s sighs.
The sound made Russell smirk. He searched the grass for the pistol and magazine as Johnson secured the cuffs around both of his wrists.
“I imagine you feel pretty good about yourself, huh, Cage?” Johnson’s voice was thick with revulsion which didn’t faze Russell one bit. “As I’ve said, this isn’t going to end the way you think it will. You have no clue who you’re messing with or what you are walking into. Best to cut your losses and head home to that wife of yours while you can. That window is closing with each step you make and will soon be gone. Besides, she probably needs you.”
There was no doubt about that. Russell wanted nothing more than to be on the road heading for Boston, but leaving while Cathy was in danger wasn’t going to happen, despite how hard Johnson tried to convince him otherwise.
“Save your breath ’cause you’re wasting it,” he said. “You just worry about yourself and getting us to where we need to be. You’re not even close to being out of danger, so I’d tread lightly if I was you, bud.” Russell swatted at the tall blades of grass for the weapon and magazine. He caught sight of the black casing of the pistol and the ammo within the depths of the vegetation.
He discarded the dense branch and retrieved the items. Russell slapped the mag into the pistol and cycled a round. He turned toward Johnson, and motioned for him to move.
“Let’s go. We’re burning daylight here,” he said.
Johnson held his cuffed hands up in front of him and deflected his gaze to the ground and away from the barrel of his sidearm.
“Do you know where you’re going, or how to get back down from here?” Johnson asked as he walked past Russell. “That’s a long way down if you lose your grip.”
“No, but I imagine
you do,” Russell said, as he fell in line behind the deputy. He kept the barrel of the pistol trained at the small of his back. His finger rested on the trigger. If he tried anything, Russell wouldn’t hesitate to fire.
Johnson skirted the boulders and followed along the narrow path that ran alongside the edge of the drop-off to their right. He didn’t divert his gaze as they worked their way down the slight slope.
Russell peered over the edge. His eyes bulged, and he gulped from the height. He spotted the dogs following along at the base. They barked while staring at him, signaling that they were close at hand.
The deputy showed no hesitation in where to go. He traversed the uneven terrain slowly and steadily.
Russell’s sore ankle ached, among other portions of his body that had been beaten down over the past few days, but it didn’t hamper him much. The dull pain was more of a nuisance than anything else.
Besides, the last thing Russell wanted to do was let the deputy know that he wasn’t a hundred percent or show any signs of where he was injured. Doing so could put him at a disadvantage with the shifty cop.
They found a trail within the beaten down grass and followed it through the dense thickets. Birds chirped from the canopy overhead. The bushes they passed shook with activity from small animals that milled about the plants.
Russell’s head was on a swivel. Any noise that sounded larger than a small mammal or rodent, he searched for the source. Johnson was right about one thing. They weren’t the apex predators roaming the woods. Bigger threats loomed within the rich greenery that could be more deadly than them.
Johnson paused on a dime, then stood on the tips of his boots.
“What’s wrong?” Russell asked as he peered over his shoulder.
The trail continued on down a steep slope that slithered through boulders and more challenging terrain. It wasn’t as bad as when Russell scaled the face of the cliff, but it still had its dangers.
“This is our best way down,” Johnson said, matter-of-factly. “It’s not the safest, but it’s also not the worst.”
Russell glanced to Johnson, then said, “You managed it pretty well.”
Johnson shook his head, then nodded to their left. “I came from over there. The terrain was much more even, and not as staggered as this.”
“Then why aren’t we going the way you came?” Russell asked. “I hope this isn’t a ploy to try anything stupid, because that won’t fly again.”
He was already leery of the deputy, and paid extra attention to the moves he was making. Being at the mercy of others was one of the disadvantages of not knowing the area.
The deputy held his hands up in defense, then said, “We can go that way if you want, but it’s going to take a lot longer to come around, and get back on track. This is more of a direct route to get down faster. Your call.”
Russell looked at the deputy as he rubbed the stubble on the side of his chin. Fast or slow. Safe or not. Those were his options, and they sucked.
Time wasn’t on Russell’s side and he had already wasted more precious minutes than he cared to. Playing things smart was key to making it back to Sarah, but calculated risks would need to be taken. This was one of those moments that called for such a decision.
“We’ll go this way,” Russell said, while pointing down the rocky slope before them. Johnson shook his head, then sighed, but complied just the same. He took a step forward.
Russell grabbed him by the arm, stopping him in place. “Don’t try anything stupid.”
“You’ve made your point. I’m not going to try anything else,” Johnson replied. “Contrary to what you think, I don’t want to die out here. I intend on making it out of this alive. Besides, you’re holding the gun, and I’m cuffed.”
“Good. Just remember that when you get an itch to try something stupid.” Speaking of being cuffed, Russell didn’t think to ask for the deputy’s keys which was a slip up on his part. He glanced down to Johnson’s duty belt, then said, “Where are the keys for those cuffs?”
Johnson dipped his chin and shifted his waist toward Russell. “On my duty belt in the back. Near the pouch the cuffs were stored in.”
Russell skimmed over the black nylon duty belt and found the keys. He pulled them off and crammed them into the front pocket of his jeans. “All right. Move.”
The barrel of the pistol pressed to the small of Johnson’s lower back—an added incentive to not try anything foolish. His word lacked merit, and Russell wasn’t going to let his guard down, regardless of what the deputy said.
Johnson took his time, but moved with purpose down the boulders and narrow ridges of earth that acted like steps.
Loose dirt tumbled down the side of the boulders to the base where Max and Butch were waiting. The canines backed away and barked as they lowered to the carpet of leaves.
Johnson lost his footing and fell on his ass. Momentum kept him going forward. He panicked and shoved the heels of his boots in the soft, crumbling dirt to try and slow him down. His bound hands reached for the soil and grass. Wads of grass pulled from the earth with ease. Grunts of fright slipped from his mouth as he panted.
“Christ,” Johnson said.
Russell crouched and grabbed the collar of the deputy’s uniform before he was out of reach. His body stopped before dumping over the side of a boulder.
“Don’t you let me go, Cage,” Johnson said, scared and panicked.
“If I wanted you dead, I would’ve let you fall,” Russell replied as he tugged on the deputy’s uniform.
Johnson wormed his way to the left and fixed the heels of his boots in a nook. His body deflated against the rigid surface of the rock.
Russell took a moment, and gathered himself before nudging the deputy on the shoulder with his boot.
“Yeah, yeah,” Johnson said. He climbed to his feet.
The remaining way down was void of any slips or mishaps. They hit the base of the cliff and breathed a sigh of relief.
Max and Butch greeted the deputy with lowered ears and visible fangs. They stalked the corrupt cop. He stumbled away from the menacing canines.
Russell blocked their path, then held up his hands. “It’s ok, guys.”
He glanced over his shoulder to Johnson. There was naked fear in his wide eyes. The deputy wanted nothing to do with the dogs and feared their wrath more than anything else.
“You just keep them away from me, Cage,” Johnson said, tripping over his words.
Max licked at Russell’s fingers. His body relaxed and the growling subsided.
Butch wasn’t as easily swayed, and kept his intimidating gaze fixed on the deputy. Deep growls loomed from the black beast’s throat as Russell laid a hand on the crown of the cane corso’s head.
The gentle touch that ran down the back of the canine’s head stayed the aggressive dog. Russell scratched behind his ears which brought a groan from the maw of the hulking brute.
Butch huffed through his nose, then glanced to Russell. His long, pink tongue licked around the rim of his short snout, then flicked at Russell’s face.
The pup’s tongue slid across Russell’s flush, sweaty face. “There you are, boy.”
“So, what are you? The animal whisperer?” Johnson asked. His condescending tone wasn’t lost on Russell.
“Not at all. I’m just not an asshole like you.” Russell stood and turned toward the deputy, giving the unscrupulous lawman a snide look.
Johnson gulped, then relaxed his tense body. His arms lowered down to his waist as he exhaled a deep breath. He steered clear of the dogs who growled as he slid down the side of the boulder.
Russell flicked the pistol at Johnson, then said, “After you.”
Johnson kept a vigilant eye on both dogs who watched his every move. He stumbled to the left and got back on the move.
Russell followed close behind with Max and Butch flanking him on either side. Any subtle noises that loomed from the trees or bushes stopped the dogs, but Russell stayed their urges to investigate with a st
ern tongue.
If Sarah could see me now, Russell thought. She’d get a big kick out of this. Mr. I’m-not-a-big-fan-of-animals walking around with two following his lead. It was a bit funny, and something he never thought he’d be doing, especially in the backwoods of Virginia. But here he was, making the best of a bad situation. At least the dogs were listening, and seemed to have taken to him. If they hadn’t, this could’ve gone a different way.
Johnson kept a steady pace and made no snide remarks or attempts to flee. Russell made sure to keep a keen eye on the shifty deputy. Just because he hadn’t tried anything, didn’t mean the notion wasn’t still nestled in the back of his brain. Russell was certain he was formulating a way out.
The day wore on as they trekked through the dense woods of the Blue Ridge Mountains. The sky overhead was cloudy with only brief spots of sunlight that broke through the clouds. The strident rays pierced the canopy in focused beams of light that shone to the forest floor.
A cool breeze blew through the trees, whipping the lush green branches about. The scratching sound of the limbs brushing against one another made the dogs’ heads rise. They’d pause for a brief second, then lift their front paws off the ground. Russell would snap his fingers, then whistle, bringing the dogs back to his side.
Sarah filled Russell’s head. He wondered how she was doing. The uncertainty of not knowing ate at him.
He’d failed as a husband and father. He’d declined into a world filled of self-loathing, and drowning his shortcomings in whatever liquor he could find.
Despite his close friends trying to pull him from the depths of his own self-loathing, it took a catastrophic event to make Russell see the light.
Even with the world against him, and him battling his own addiction, Russell’s plan was cemented in place. Find Cathy and get on the road. That was the objective. Do what was needed to get home to Sarah. Whatever it took, he was going to get it done and not let anything stand in the way.
Johnson paused.
“Why are you stopping?” Russell skimmed over the trees and bushes while keeping the pistol fixed on Johnson.
Survive The Fall | Book 2 | Madness Rising Page 10
