Deep Woods

by Newbury, Helena

  I cursed and let my eyes rove over Bethany’s sleeping body. Her shirt had ridden up to reveal a slice of pale stomach and those gorgeous breasts were rising and falling under the tight plaid. I could stay one more day and enjoy her now….

  But I’d only ever intended to come to the US for one day and thanks to this little bitch, it has already been over two weeks. If the FBI realized I was in their country, they’d cage me like a dog and even with all my connections back home, I might not be able to get out. It didn’t do to push your luck. “Fine. Get ready to go,” I told Vladimir.

  I summoned Cairns and told him to put Bethany with the others. I watched as she was carried downstairs, her long black hair trailing, a sleeping princess. It was a pity...but there’d be plenty of time to use her on the way back to Russia.

  61

  Cal

  WE WERE RUNNING. Running like we’d never run before. My feet pounded the ground, my legs eating up the distance in long strides. Rufus streaked along beside me, leaping over fallen trees and skidding around bushes.

  We’d kept up the punishing pace for hours and somewhere, on some level, we were tired. I could feel my heart hammering in my chest like it was trying to break free and the sweat soaking through my shirt. Most of all, I could feel the muscles in my legs screaming for relief, begging me to stagger to a stop, just for a minute, just for a second.

  But none of it mattered. The only thing that mattered was getting there.

  Alik had told us the location of the mansion and as soon as I’d freed the animals and shooed them well away from the fire, we’d set off, following a dead-straight line through the forest. We’d left Alik alive, tied to a tree.

  We came to a gully and both of us jumped across without breaking our stride. We raced through a thicket, down into a valley, and then up the other side. It got steeper and steeper until it was close to vertical. My feet began to slip and even Rufus, with four leg drive, had to scramble and claw. By the time we reached the crest, I was gasping for air and my legs were shaking and begging for mercy.

  But they had Bethany.

  We ran on.

  62

  Bethany

  I FOUGHT MY WAY upwards through layers of sleep, like tearing through black cobwebs. When I finally forced my eyelids open, I was lying on my stomach on a soft, squishy surface topped with red vinyl. My head throbbed and I cradled it in one hand as I looked around. I was in a long, thin room that reminded me of an indoor children’s play area: every surface, even the ceiling, was coated in thick, squishy red vinyl padding. Light came from a battery-powered LED lantern hanging from a hook on the ceiling.

  I wasn’t alone. Nine other women, all about my age, were sitting slumped against the walls. All of them wore dresses or sexy, strappy tops and skirts. The other nine. The other nine women who Ralavich was taking back to Russia. And I was in here with them. I was going there too….

  And then the drugged haze receded just enough and I remembered. Cal! Cal was dead. And Rufus, too. I’d pushed myself up to hands and knees but now I slumped back to the floor and wept. The kindest, gentlest guy I’d ever met in my life and he was gone, executed. And Rufus…. Who could shoot Rufus?!

  I’d gotten them both killed. If I’d just accepted my fate, that night in Ralavich’s bedroom, they’d still be alive.

  I cried and cried until it turned into heaving, snotty wails. A few of the other women came and put their hands gently on my back but no one said it’ll be okay, because we all knew it wasn’t going to be.

  I nearly gave up, right there. But then I thought of Cal and the way he’d looked at me when he’d given me that pep talk as we ran for our lives. He’d said I was brave. I sure didn’t feel it, but he’d said I was. He’d believed in me.

  Giving up isn’t what he would have wanted.

  And it wasn’t just about me: there were nine other women here and I couldn’t let them wind up in some Russian brothel. I had to do something.

  I pushed myself up to standing, my legs shaking, and wiped the tears from my eyes. And then I started examining the walls, looking for a way out.

  63

  Cal

  I JUMPED OVER A BUSH, crashed through some branches and—

  An air horn blasted my ears.

  I registered that the forest had stopped, but I was moving so fast that I was already halfway across the asphalt before I stumbled to a stop.

  The air horn shredded my eardrums again. I looked that way and saw the eighteen-wheeler bearing down on me, the fender only twenty feet away. I dodged back out of the way and it blasted past, the slipstream stealing what remained of my breath. I checked around for Rufus, terrified, but then saw him safe at the edge of the trees. He was blinking at me, like, what are you doing?

  The freeway. We’d reached the freeway. We were nearly there!

  The mansion was on the other side so we had to wait for a gap in the traffic. I spent the time bent over, sucking in lungfuls of much-needed air. Now that I’d stopped, my muscles got in touch with my brain and started telling it about every mile they’d run. First, they burned like they were filled with lava. Then they started to tighten up and it was like the lava was cooling and setting into rock, shot through with jagged lightning bolts of pain.

  A gap opened up in the traffic. We hurried across and ran on.

  Just over the next rise, I saw a huge white mansion at the end of a long, winding driveway. We took cover in the scrubby undergrowth while I checked it out. There were high hedges and razor-wire-topped fences, guys on guard duty, and electric gates. This was the place.

  I turned to Rufus. “You stay here. This is going to be dangerous.” I ruffled his fur, then started across the open ground. Halfway to the hedge, I realized he was beside me. “No! Rufus, no!” I hurried back to the undergrowth with him and pushed him down into a sit. “Stay! Dangerous!”

  I set out again. Before I’d gone three steps, he’d caught up and was running alongside me. “Rufus—” I began, exasperated.

  He tilted his head to the side and gave me a look that very clearly said you are not leaving me behind again!

  I sighed. I’d missed having him with me when we were being hunted. And we’d been in this together since the start. Plus, it wasn’t like he was giving me a choice. “Okay, fine,” I said and ruffled his fur. “Let’s do this.”

  The hedge was designed to look pretty, not keep people out, and we just rammed our way through it. The real barrier was the wire fence just beyond it, but with Rufus keeping watch, I cut a hole with the knife I’d taken from Alik’s belt and we belly-crawled through. Then we were up and running for the house.

  A guard turned, saw us and brought his radio up to his mouth. I swung the assault rifle and clubbed him to the ground without stopping. Another one raised his gun. Rufus leaped and sank his teeth deep into the man’s gun arm. He screamed and I punched him in the face.

  We raced up the steps and I staggered to a stop outside the huge double doors. This was it. I could feel the rage thundering through my veins. This was the nest those rich bastards had slithered out of. This was where they’d taken her, and all the others like her. Where they planned to—

  I growled and reached for the door handle. But before my hand could close on it, the door opened on its own. A tall, thin, bald guy in an expensive suit stood there, as surprised to see me as I was him. He took in my plaid shirt, torn and leaf-covered from racing through the forest; my mud-stained jeans and dirty boots, the panting dog beside me. His lip curled in disgust and he opened his mouth to banish us. Behind him, I glimpsed marble tiles and a huge chandelier. This was his world, and we didn’t belong.

  Then he saw the assault rifle slung on my back and all the blood drained from his face. He stepped back, turned to shout a warning—

  I kicked the doors open with my boot, sending him staggering back to fall on his ass. Then I unslung the assault rifle and stepped into the enormous hallway. A few of the members who’d been at the hunt were standing around, drinking to
numb the pain of their wounds, and they bolted as soon as they saw me. The other members just stood there staring. Two guards rushed towards me, drawing their weapons. I fired two quick shots at each of them and they fell. They were wearing body armor, so they’d survive, but getting shot is still like being kicked by a mule: they weren’t going to be getting up in a hurry.

  I turned to Rufus. “Find her. Find Bethany.”

  He lifted his nose and sniffed the air...then bolted up the main staircase. I ran after him, shoving aside anyone who got in my way. He ran straight up to the top floor, then down the hallway to a door at the end. I kicked it open—

  A bedroom. Empty. But on the floor were those sneakers she’d worn when I first met her, the rubber soles still pure white. This is where that bastard had taken her, that first night. And maybe she’d been here since. But... “Where is she now?” I asked Rufus, ruffling his coat encouragingly. “Where is she now, boy?”

  Rufus sniffed her sneakers. Turned a circle, sniffing the air again. Then he bolted back down the stairs. At the bottom, two more guards were waiting for us. Rufus shot straight between them, too quick to catch. Then I smashed through them like a quarterback, sending them sprawling.

  I followed Rufus to a big, book-lined library. He turned a circle there, then looked confused and ran to the next room. I charged along behind him, grabbing members and hurling them out of the way, using the butt of the rifle or a few quick shots to take out the guards. A few of them got shots off, shattering a huge fish tank and sending a tidal wave of water thundering across the carpet. One of the members grabbed a shotgun and fired a couple of blasts at us, but only managed to destroy a bust and shred an oil painting before I clubbed him in the side of the head. We raced from room to room, until we’d been around the entire first floor and were back in the library. Rufus looked at me, confused.

  Where is she?

  64

  Bethany

  I’D BEEN OVER every wall and even tried the floor and the ceiling but I’d gotten nowhere. Every surface was covered in the thick red vinyl padding and in the few places where I could force my fingers into a crack where two pads joined, all I felt was hard cold metal. There had to be a door somewhere—they’d got us in here—but I couldn’t find it.

  Panic started to rise in me, the cold nausea of feeling your time slipping away and not being able to do a freakin’ thing about it. We have to get out before they come for us and take us off to Russia! But I’d searched every wall, felt in every crack….

  Then I remembered what Cal had taught me. “Everyone be quiet for a minute,” I told the others. “Shh!”

  They quietened down and I closed my eyes and listened. I listened for the hum of air conditioning, the gurgle of water in pipes, the sound of footsteps. But there was absolutely nothing. Why couldn’t I hear the rest of the mansion?

  The room was soundproof. That’s what all the soft padding was for. A soundproof, windowless box. A secret room, a place to keep women until they were needed, or to put them if the cops were about to search the house, a place where we wouldn’t be heard even if we screamed for help. Where would you put a place like that?

  Underground. We were down in the basement, in a locked box, where no one could ever find us.

  65

  Cal

  RUFUS AND I ran back up to the third floor and worked our way down again, searching room by room. When guards got in our way, I clubbed them out of the way with the rifle or picked them up and threw them across the room, smashing furniture and knocking paintings off the walls as they landed.

  Some of the bedroom doors were locked and when I kicked them down, I found guys in suits, along with the half-naked women they’d bought. That only fueled my rage. I hauled the guys out and punched them into submission, then told the women they were safe, now. But none of them knew where Bethany or the other women bound for Russia were. We cleared the whole of the third floor and then the whole of the second. Nothing. I stood there panting with anger and fear. Where the hell was she?

  Rufus led me back to the library for the third time, then woofed, looking confused. Two guards ran in and I knocked one out with my rifle butt and punched the other in the face. The mansion fell silent. The guards and members were all lying injured or unconscious and the house itself was in ruins. The walls were peppered with bullet holes, antique tables and chairs lay in pieces, smashed apart in the fighting and the Persian rugs were soaked with fish tank water. The floor was covered with a carpet of crunching fragments: what used to be cut-glass decanters and priceless Ming vases. I’d torn the damn place apart. But I hadn’t found her.

  I hunkered down and scratched Rufus’s ears. “Talk to me, boy. Where is she? Where’s Bethany?”

  He sniffed the floor, turned a circle and woofed, as frustrated as I was.

  “C’mon, boy.” There was pleading in my voice. “C’mon, Rufus, she needs us. Where is she?”

  Rufus lowered his nose to the floor and sniffed. For a few seconds, he seemed to follow a trail, but it ended with his nose against one of the book-lined walls.

  I sighed. Goddammit! “It’s okay,” I told him. “C’mon, let’s check outside.”

  But Rufus didn’t move. In fact, he sat down. And let out another woof, right at the bookcase.

  “Rufus, c’mon!” I even patted my thigh.

  But he just looked at me, then looked at the bookcase. And gave an enormous, room-shaking woof.

  I narrowed my eyes and walked over there. It looked normal enough, just thick wooden shelves and big, leather-bound books. But Rufus didn’t bark for no reason. I put my hands on the bookcase—

  And felt it move. Only a fraction of an inch, but it probably weighed the same as a small car. It shouldn’t move at all. I pushed it and it rocked, very slightly. Like it could move, but didn’t want to at the moment.

  All the shelves were crammed full except for one that had a few books missing. I thrust my hand into the gap and felt a hole in the back, hidden by the shadows. And in the hole was a metal handle, worn smooth with age. I pulled and there was a click as the bookcase came loose. I pushed...and the whole bookcase slid smoothly back into the wall. It went back a full six feet, revealing a bare stone floor and a yawning darkness to my right. As my eyes adjusted, I saw stone stairs, leading down.

  Rufus shot down them, back on the trail he’d been trying so hard to follow. I was right behind him, bringing the assault rifle up, not knowing what we’d find. We turned a corner and—

  The roar of a shotgun, deafening in the confined space, and I felt shotgun pellets tear at one arm. Most of it missed, though: the person holding it had panicked and fired high. But the next shot would get us. I staggered back and tried to find the shooter, but it was almost pitch black and the flash of the shotgun had blinded me—

  There was a crash and a cry of pain as Rufus took the shooter down. I finally found the light switch and the whole basement lit up. A man in a suit was flat on his back, coughing and groaning, pinned down by Rufus on his chest. As I walked closer, I recognized the face. The attorney general. The coward must have hidden down here when I arrived.

  I was about to ask him where Bethany was when I saw the door. Metal, thick and heavy, like something out of a prison. I pulled the bolts open and then, heart racing, I swung it wide—

  A hallway, and along its length were twenty or more doors leading to tiny, six-by-eight rooms. Cells. My stomach twisted. Cells to keep women in, until they were needed. But all of the doors were open. All of the cells were empty.

  Bethany was gone.

  66

  Bethany

  I SCREAMED as the floor suddenly lifted under my feet. Earthquake! Oh Jesus, and we were in a hidden room in a basement, we’d be buried and no one would ever find us!

  The floor twisted and tipped and I went sideways into the wall. I bounced off it and went down on my ass, suddenly glad that everything was padded. Everyone was yelling and panicking, trying to find a handhold on the padded walls.

 
And then suddenly, there was a jolt, like when you’re on a train and it stops moving and you have to fight to keep your balance. Just as I got up, the floor started to slip under my feet, like I’d stepped onto an escalator sideways. I tottered to the side and hit the wall again. What the hell is going on?!

  Another jolt, and then my stomach shot up into my mouth, like when an elevator starts to descend. And suddenly, my whole perception realigned.

  This wasn’t an earthquake. The whole room was moving.

  And the room wasn’t a room. Long, thin, no windows, metal walls beneath the padding: we were in a shipping container! We were being shipped, just cargo in a box. That’s what the padding was for: as well as soundproofing, it stopped us from getting hurt when the container was swung around.

  There was a final jolt and the container went still. Wait...not completely still. I couldn’t hear or see any movement but I could feel it. A slow up-and-down that unsettled my stomach. A bobbing.

  We were on a ship.

  They must have loaded us into this thing while we slept and we’d been unconscious for the journey to the port. That whole time when I thought we were still at the mansion, we’d really been sitting on a dockside. Now our container had been loaded onto a ship and the next stop would be Russia.

  I hammered on the padded walls. “Help us! Help, we’re in here! Please!”

  But nobody heard.

  67