Survive The Fall | Book 2 | Madness Rising

by Shupert, Derek

  “You know, I’ve known guys like you my entire life. Cocky, arrogant, and everything in between. Thinking they could do what they wanted, and no consequences would come crashing down on them. Eventually, it does happen. Mark my words,” Sarah said.

  Man-bun honked his horn, then stepped on the gas. The engine revved as he wrenched the steering wheel clockwise. He threw his hands up in the air, then offered the middle finger to some unlucky soul.

  “Damn people,” he said, shaking his head. “Would you like to know the main reason why you won’t try anything stupid or hasty?”

  “Please, enlighten me,” Sarah said.

  “You’re friend, Mandy. It would be a shame if something happened to her as well because you couldn’t shut up and behave,” Man-bun replied. “I know you’re hardheaded and all, but you are also smart.”

  Sarah wasn’t sure she wanted to gamble with Mandy’s life. Not after what happened to David. She couldn’t bear another death on her conscience.

  She stowed any grand idea’s of trying to alert any passersby.

  Man-bun’s coy smile remained as he tilted his head. His overwhelming confidence in himself gushed from his every pore which made Sarah sick to her stomach.

  What a piece of crap.

  “You know, we’ve met before,” he said, after a few moments of silence. “I thought I made more of a memorable impression, but I guess I didn’t.”

  Sarah’s face scrunched in confusion as she stared at him. “I don’t recall us meeting. Though, that tattoo on your forearm has been popping up a lot.”

  The car jolted, shifting Sarah in the seat. It felt like they ran over something, but she couldn’t be sure. She hoped it wasn’t a person. Considering his proclivity to killing, she wouldn’t put it past him.

  Man-bun glanced at the tattoo on his arm. “Yeah, I guess you wouldn’t remember my face that night since it was covered up. I thought I had my tattoo covered up good enough. Guess I didn’t.”

  “That night?” Sarah parroted his words. A sickening feeling rooted in her stomach, and ran through the rest of her body. Only one event came to mind.

  “Yeah. It was about a year or so ago. I can’t remember exactly when. I’m not good with dates and all.”

  Sarah’s eyes glassed over with tears as a wave of emotion crashed into her. That fateful night replayed in her head as she relived each second of the torment.

  Sadness, anger, and loss ran down her cheeks without pause. She couldn’t help it, or stop the flow as she stuffed her face into the seat.

  Her head cocked to the side. “Tell me why you broke into my house? Why you took my little girl from me? Why you destroyed my marriage and life? Because of you, I have lost everything. You took that from me.”

  Man-bun’s smirk evaporated in a blink. An emotionless void washed over his face as he nodded. “I understand you’re angry and confused. That was not how things were supposed to go down that night.”

  “What does that even mean?” Sarah asked. Her arms pulled harder against the zip ties. She no longer cared if he could see what she was doing or not. Sarah wanted to be free of the restraints. To wrap her hands around the spineless man’s throat for what he had done and choke the life from his body. She wanted to look into his eyes as those last gasps of air fled from his mouth, so he could feel the same helplessness that she had.

  The terrain changed. A clicking sound played inside the car. It sounded like they were driving over wooden planks. Perhaps over the dock. Sarah wasn’t sure, though, if that’s where they were, or if that’s what she was even hearing.

  Man-bun kept his attention focused out of the front windshield. They drove a bit longer before the car came to gradual stop. He placed the vehicle into park and killed the engine.

  “Are you not going to answer me?” she asked.

  He twisted in his seat and peered back at Sarah. His face was stone cold. “I’m sorry, but our time together has come to an end, Mrs. Cage.”

  He glanced out of the back-passenger window and nodded. The door flew open. Sarah gasped as she jerked her chin toward the open door. A man stood just beyond the car. He grabbed Sarah’s ankles and yanked her toward him.

  Sarah yelled and kicked her legs, trying everything she could to stop what was coming.

  The burly man held her close, dragging her away to an uncertain future.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  RUSSELL

  Russell’s eyes widened at the sight of the cavernous fissure before him. Heights were not his thing, and something he avoided if at all possible. This was one of those moments that he wouldn’t be able to steer clear of, even if he wanted to.

  Water was their immediate mission. They all needed it. Russell had to trust that Johnson knew where he was going, and that he wasn’t leading them away from Cathy or into a trap.

  “You know, we can always turn around and go back the way we came,” Johnson said. “Might take us longer to find water, but I imagine we’ll run into some sooner or later. Your call.”

  Russell didn’t want to backtrack, but he also wasn’t keen on crossing the less than desirable log. The wood looked brittle and rotted. White splotches covered the immense tree trunk at random spots. It did little to stay his nerves.

  His palm rubbed over his face as he took in a gulp of air. The nauseous feeling and light-headedness wouldn’t leave him be. He exhaled a single deep breath and bent down.

  “You’re sure it’s safe to cross?” Russell asked while grabbing a handful of bark that snapped off into his hand.

  The crumbling wood slipped through Russell’s fingers as he glanced up to the deputy.

  “I think it will hold us, but not all of us at one time,” Johnson said.

  He shoved his boot against the jagged ends of the trunk. The tree didn’t move or shift, then again, Russell didn’t figure it would from him nudging it the way he was.

  “Are you suggesting we go one at a time?” Russell asked as he raised his right brow.

  Johnson shrugged. “Well, yeah. That, or I figure we can go two at a time. A dog with each of us. That way, the weight is equally distributed.”

  Russell peered down to Max and Butch who were sniffing the ground close by. Having Johnson go by himself wasn’t an option that Russell liked. If Johnson tried to run once making it across, Russell wasn’t confident he could hit a moving target. Plus, with all of the trees, bushes, and tall grass on the other side, he could disappear fast.

  “Fine. We’ll go two at a time. Butch can go with you, and I’ll take Max,” Russell said.

  “Like I said, it’s your call.” Johnson looked to the black beast, then nodded. A naked fear lingered in his eyes, but getting water and surviving trounced any hesitation he had.

  Johnson stepped up onto the log. When Russell grabbed his arm, Johnson dropped back down to the ground and looked at him.

  “Don’t try anything stupid. You get across and you wait for us to come over. You got it?” Russell asked.

  “Yeah. I got it,” Johnson replied.

  He stepped back up onto the log as Russell whistled for the dogs. Both Butch and Max bolted from the nearby bushes and ran toward them.

  “I suppose I couldn’t persuade you to remove the cuffs, could I?” Johnson inquired while presenting his hands to Russell.

  “Not a chance in hell,” Russell said.

  Johnson faced forward and headed down the tree trunk. Slow and steady, he kept to the center of the log as he looked down to his feet.

  Russell bent down and looked at Butch. “Keep an eye on him until we come across, will ya? If he gets out of line or tries to run, bite him.”

  Butch licked around the rim of his maw as he glanced to the deputy.

  “Yeah. The guy you dislike more than me,” Russell added.

  Butch groaned and turned toward the log.

  Russell patted his hand on the bark, signaling for the cane corso to move.

  Butch hoped up on the end of the trunk and paused. He glanced to Russell with a stern,
focused look. His clipped ears twitched from the numerous bird sounds and other animals in the area.

  “It’s ok. We’ll be right behind you.” Russell felt stupid talking to the animal as he was, but it made him feel as though he wasn’t alone. The deputy didn’t count.

  Butch faced forward, then trotted down the log. Flanking the deputy, he caught up fast and stalked him.

  Johnson continued moving with Butch at his six.

  Russell watched the tree trunk for any shifts or hints of the wood giving from their bulk. He stepped to either side of the log and focused on the middle portion. It appeared to be holding together with no signs of the wood breaking. Although relieved, he still wasn’t keen on going across the log, but he had to man up and face his fear.

  Johnson made it to solid ground with Butch following close behind. They stepped away from the log and turned toward them.

  “Are you ready to do this?” Russell asked Max. The German shepherd groaned while resting on his haunches. He sprung up and waited for his handler to give orders.

  “Looks like you’re more ready than I am.” Russell took the lead and mounted the trunk. His heart raced and palms sweated from the thought of walking across the log. He told himself to just do it and not look down. Sarah and Cathy were counting on him. He couldn’t flake out now.

  One precarious step in front of the other, Russell held his arms out to either side of him to stable himself. The dizziness that had latched onto him made each step feel like he was going to dump over the side of the trunk.

  The farther he moved out, the harder his heart punched his chest. Quick breaths fled his lips. He fought to keep control of the fear that was trying to get him to look down.

  Max flanked Russell and matched him step for step. The Shepherd didn’t bark or try to skirt around him. He waited patiently and moved when he was able.

  Halfway there, Russell thought as the sight of solid ground gave him added incentive to keep moving.

  Snap.

  “What the hell was that?” Russell asked in a panic.

  He acted upon instinct and glanced down to his feet. The fissure below him filled his gaze and sent a surge of dread that washed over him.

  Russell froze, unable to move as the cold, boney fingers of death reached up from the ground and grabbed his ankles. Butch barked from the sidelines while racing back and forth near the end of the log.

  “I’d move. Sounds like it’s about to give,” Johnson said, motioning to Russell to get going.

  The wood popped and creaked, acting as though it would give at any moment.

  Russell forced his feet to move as he headed for safety. His boots sunk into the spongy surface through the bark. Crackles and pops filled his ears as the log shifted.

  Russell jumped while on the run, diving for the edge of the cliff. He hit hard, flat on his stomach, and rolled across the ground. The air burst out of him as he came to a stop.

  The trunk snapped in half. Both pieces vanished from sight. Russell breathed in while trying to speak. “Max. Max.”

  His voice was strained and hoarse. He glanced about worriedly.

  A wet tongue flicked over Russell’s ear from behind. He flinched and leaned away.

  Russell twisted, relieved at the sight of Max standing beside him. “Oh, thank God. Cathy would’ve killed me if anything happened to you.” Russell patted Max’s head, then ran his fingers over his coat as he stood up.

  Max licked at the end of his fingers, then ran over to Butch.

  “You’re one lucky son of a bitch, Cage,” Johnson said.

  “I guess you could say that,” Russell countered while wiping the dirt from his pants.

  He was shaken from nearly dying, but held himself together as best he could.

  Both dogs froze. Their ears stood on end.

  “What is it, guys?” Russell inquired as he looked over the dense trees and foliage around them.

  “It’s probably just a rabbit or squirrel,” Johnson advised while leaning in close to Russell. “We are in the woods after all, and they are predators.”

  The dogs searched the surrounding area as low growls loomed from their throats. Muscles rippled in Butch’s chest as he took a step forward. Max lowered his head and sniffed the ground before looking back up.

  “I don’t know. Doesn’t feel like a rabbit or squirrel from the way they’re both growling,” Russell said, in a whisper.

  The sound of branches snapping silenced the group. Growling from the dogs grew in volume as they turned to the north. Butch bared his fangs, then lowered his head.

  Max took a step forward.

  “No. Stay,” Russell said.

  Max paused, but kept growling.

  Butch inched forward a bit more before complying.

  A man materialized twenty paces from the trees to their left, wielding a rifle. Both Max and Butch barked and growled, but stayed put. They were antsy and wanted to charge, but obeyed Russell’s command.

  The man lowered his rifle, then craned his neck. Russell couldn’t get a clear view of his face from the camo hat that was pulled down low over his head.

  The man’s green and brown camo jacket blended in with the nearby scenery as he looked their way. He clutched the rifle close to his chest as he approached with caution.

  “Crap,” Johnson said, under his breath, diverting his gaze to Russell. He whispered in his ear, “I know that guy. He’s one of Marcus’s men.”

  Russell reached for the pistol tucked in his waistband as Johnson grabbed his wrist. “What?”

  “Just hold on. He’s a crack shot with that rifle, and unless you’re one hundred percent sure you can hit him, I wouldn’t do it. Not until he gets closer. You miss, and he’ll drop you in a heartbeat, and maybe me. I don’t know,” Johnson said.

  “Fine. I’ll wait.” Russell eyed the hunter coming toward them, and removed the pistol from his waistband. He held it behind his back with his finger over the trigger.

  “Let me do the talking. I’ll see if I can get us out of this,” Johnson said, in a low tone.

  Russell glanced to the handcuffs on the deputy’s wrist. “That’s going to be a hard sale considering you’re cuffed. He’s going to know something’s up, if he doesn’t already.”

  “Just chill and let me speak to him, all right?”

  “Play it smart,” Russell said, warning the deputy.

  “Brian, what in the hell are you doing way out here in the middle of the woods, especially in your uniform?” the man asked.

  Johnson kept his arms down around his waist. The tall blades of grass around them barely concealed the restraints. “It’s a long story, Pete. Is Tony out here with you?”

  “Who the hell is Tony?” Russell asked as he watched Pete’s every move.

  “His hunting buddy. They normally hunt together. So, if one’s out here, odds are the other isn’t far behind,” Johnson replied in a whisper.

  Great.

  “Yeah. He’s somewhere out here,” Pete answered without giving any more details. He eyed Russell, then spotted the agitated dogs. “Who’s your friends?”

  Butch and Max continued to growl, stopping the burly man in his place. He honed in on the anxious animals. His fingers repositioned over the rifle as he held it close. His body tightened as his tongue slid over his lips.

  The dogs didn’t advance, but Russell wasn’t sure how much longer Butch was going to obey. He was headstrong and could lash out at any moment. The longer this went on, the bigger the risk of a shootout.

  “Oh. Just a friend is all,” Johnson answered, calm and collected.

  Pete looked suspiciously at Johnson, then dipped his eyes toward the grass around his wrists. He glanced to Russell as both hands twitched over the rifle. “What’s going on here, Brian? From here, it looks like you’re wearing handcuffs.”

  Tension swarmed among the men. Pete gulped. Both dogs continued to growl, asserting their dominance, and letting the stranger know he was being watched.

  Russell couldn�
�t let Pete leave. Not now. He couldn’t risk him running to Marcus or alerting his friend. He had to take him out, but wanted to avoid discharging his weapon if at all possible.

  Pete hesitated a moment longer, then brought the rifle to bear.

  Russell pulled the pistol from behind his back. A round was already chambered and ready to rock.

  “Whoa, whoa,” Johnson said, as he lifted his hands into the air. “Let’s just calm down here, all right.”

  Pete trained his rifle at Russell, then Johnson. “Brian, you better start talking now. What the hell is going on here?” The dogs barked and growled louder, inching toward the threat.

  “Just put-”

  “Lower your rifle, now, or I will shoot,” Russell said. “I don’t want to shoot you, but I will if you don’t lower your weapon.”

  The buttstock of the rifle stayed pressed to Pete’s shoulder. The wild strands of his thick, black beard dangled over the wood grain of the stock as he shifted his gaze among the threats before him.

  The radio fastened to Pete’s hip crackled. Butch took off in a dead sprint toward the hunter. Pete turned to the black beast. Russell pulled the trigger, discharging the pistol.

  Fire spat from the barrel, followed by a sharp report that echoed throughout the dense forest. Pete squeezed the trigger of his rifle as he turned toward Butch.

  Johnson flinched, then covered his head as he darted off to the right. Pete’s round struck the deputy, sending him tumbling to the ground.

  Russell’s round hit Pete in the torso, knocking him off balance as Butch closed in on the falling man.

  Russell kept the pistol trained in Pete’s direction as he collapsed within the tall grass. He glanced over to Johnson. Russell couldn’t tell at first where the deputy had been shot or how bad it was.

  “Christ.” Johnson bellowed in pain. “That son of a bitch shot me in the leg. Ahh.”

  Butch attacked Pete in the depths of the tall grass. He could hear the groans of the hunter, followed by the screams of pure terror.