Deep Woods

by Newbury, Helena

  Running footsteps, muffled by the padding.

  And then she shot out of the door and whumped into my chest.

  A lot happened very quickly.

  Rufus went beserk, jumping up and woofing and putting his front paws on Bethany’s shoulders and trying to lick her face even as I kissed her.

  The other women started scrambling out of the container, blinking in the bright sunlight, some of them sobbing in relief.

  The older cop stared in shock at the women climbing out of the container. Then his face darkened and he drew his gun and spun to face the captain, who had started to back away down the deck. “You! Hands where I can see them!” he bellowed. The captain reluctantly raised his hands.

  And Bethany and me...we just clung to each other. She was hanging onto me like a monkey, arms and legs wrapped around me, and I was crushing her to me and kissing her madly, panting with relief at having her back. She kept saying something between kisses and I couldn’t make it out at first, but then I got it. You’re alive, she was saying. You’re really alive. I nodded. I was alive and she was safe and I was never letting her go again.

  And then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw movement. A man stepping out of a doorway, behind where the cops were handcuffing the captain.

  Ralavich.

  70

  Ralavich

  I WAS IN A FOUL MOOD. Over two weeks since I’d first taken delivery of the little bitch and I hadn’t even had a chance to fuck her yet. Now I’d have to do it in a cramped cabin instead of a luxurious room at the mansion. Then I’d heard shouting, and the engines had stopped. I’d grabbed the assault rifle I keep in my cabin for protection and marched upstairs to see what was going on. That’s when I saw him, that big oaf in the plaid shirt, with his hands all over Bethany, and all my other girls spilling out of the cargo container. How is he alive? Then I realized that I hadn’t heard from Alik. The big bastard must have killed him.

  The rage flashed through me. I pushed open the door and stepped out onto the deck—

  That was when I saw the two Port Authority cops handcuffing Vladimir. Shit. And then I heard sirens wailing in the distance. I had to get out of here. Losing the girls hurt. Losing one as special as Bethany hurt even more. But it wasn’t worth going to jail for. Better to slip away quietly and go back to St. Petersburg. I could find another supplier for my brothels: there was always the Austrian. And once things had calmed down, I could track down Bethany and send someone to kill that big prick and steal her back. But first, I had to get out of here. And to do that, I needed a diversion.

  I raised my gun and fired at the Port Authority cops, the gun kicking and spraying wildly. Everyone screamed and ducked for cover, but I kept firing until I saw one of them fall. Then I ran to the gangplank and started down it to the docks.

  71

  Bethany

  THE FIRST WARNING I had that anything was wrong was when Cal suddenly spun us around. Then gunfire came from behind him and I realized he’d put himself between it and me. I screamed and tensed, waiting for his body to jerk against mine as a bullet hit him. But the impact never came. Then I heard running footsteps and he slowly released me.

  When we turned around, we saw the older of the two cops on the deck, his hands to his stomach. Blood was soaking his uniform and slicking his hands. The other cop was kneeling over him, shouting his name, hysterical.

  I ran over to them and fell to my knees beside them. I found where the bullet had entered and applied pressure. “Call for an ambulance,” I told the other cop, and he nodded and got on his radio.

  Cal hunkered down beside me, ready to help if I needed it, but there wasn’t much we could do without medical gear. I did my best to slow the bleeding and talked to the cop, reassuring him it was going to be okay.

  Cal gently cupped my cheek in one big hand, looking at me, and I saw his shoulders tense and his breathing tighten. For a second, I couldn’t figure out what he was looking at. Then I remembered how Ralavich had hit me there. I guess a bruise had formed.

  I glanced at the dock. Ralavich was running down the dockside and heading for the maze of containers. Cal saw it too. He turned to the younger cop and pointed to his radio. “Can you get Nina in the control room on that thing?” The cop nodded, switched channel and handed it to Cal. “Nina! It’s Cal.” He waved in the direction of a building with big, sloping windows. “I got her, I got them all, but the guy who did this is running.”

  I looked at him, amazed. He was talking to someone! And it sounded like he’d already connected with her.

  There was a burst of static and then a woman’s voice answered. “I see him. He’s heading into the container stacks, but the cops are still a few minutes away.”

  My guts twisted. “He’s going to get away,” I thought out loud.

  Cal slowly rose, his whole body shaking with rage. “No, he isn’t,” he said.

  72

  Cal

  He hurt her. I’d already hated him for what he’d tried to do to her, for how he’d treated all those other women. But there was something basic and primal about seeing that bruise on her cheek. I could feel the scalding anger boiling up inside me. He hurt my Bethany!

  I pounded down the gangplank, Rufus hot on my heels. I saw Ralavich disappear into the maze of cargo containers. It was a sprawling area the size of a few hundred football fields and on the far side of it was the fence that marked the edge of the port. If Ralavich reached that, he could just stroll off into Seattle and we’d never catch him.

  I found the dumpster I’d passed by before and I was in luck: no one had found the assault rifle. I realized I was still clutching the cop’s radio and shoved it in my shirt pocket, then picked up the rifle and ran into the container maze. As I reached the entrance, I forced myself to breathe slowly, calming myself. Gun up and ready, Rufus pressed tight against my legs, I advanced. Hunting him.

  Except I’d never hunted in a place like this. I didn’t know the layout of the containers, had no idea when I was heading into a dead-end or when I’d turn a corner and find I was exposed. Ralavich had left no trail to follow: there were no twigs for him to break, no dirt for him to leave footprints in. And when I stopped and listened to track him that way, there was nothing: nothing here rustled or snapped and his rubber-soled shoes were silent on the concrete.

  This wasn’t my world. It was entirely artificial and I didn’t know how to hunt in it. If I blundered in there, there was a good chance Ralavich would see me and ambush me. I knew the smart thing to do would be to wait for the cops. But he’d be long gone before they got there. How many more women would be hurt before someone caught him? What if they never did? Bethany would be looking over her shoulder her entire life. She needed to know he was in jail.

  I crept deeper into the maze.

  73

  Bethany

  THE OLDER COP had gone pale and sweaty but was hanging in there. The younger cop and I had been talking to him, trying to keep his mind off the pain. Then I heard footsteps running up the gangplank and paramedics were surrounding us, kneeling down beside us and politely but firmly taking over. I lifted my hands out of the way and stood up.

  Police cruisers were arriving at the dock, but they were a long way from the maze of containers where I’d seen Ralavich heading. By now, Cal and Rufus would be in there, too.

  A second team of paramedics was coming aboard, now, tending to the other women from the container, checking them for injuries and putting blankets around their shoulders. One of them saw the bruise on my cheek. “Hey,” she said gently. “Sit down, let me take a look at you.”

  I wavered a little on my feet. I was exhausted: I’d been up all night and I’d spent most of it running for my life. The only sleep I’d had was when I was drugged and that had left me nauseous and with a thumping headache. All I wanted to do was sit down and let someone fuss over me.

  But not while Cal and Rufus were out there, in danger. “I have to go,” I told her, and ran.

  I headed for the
building Cal had waved to, the one with sloping windows that overlooked the port. I raced inside and then up the stairs to the top floor. From the huge windows, I could see the whole dockside: the ship, with the ambulances pulled up next to the gangplank, the police cars arriving, and the sprawling container maze. Squinting, I could just see Cal and Rufus down there, creeping forwards through the containers. I have to help them!

  “What the hell is with people bursting into my control room today?” asked an aggrieved voice. I turned to see a woman in her forties wearing a headset. Then she frowned, taking in my plaid shirt and muddy jeans. “You’re her.” She glanced at the ship, at the open container, and the other women still on board. “The one he was trying to save.”

  I recognized the voice. Nina. “We have to help him,” I told her. There was panic in my voice. Even from all the way up here, I could see Cal’s uncertainty in the way he moved. He was used to the wild and the containers were like a freakin’ laboratory maze for mice.

  “Here,” said Nina, and passed me a pair of binoculars. That helped: now I could search the maze and...there! I saw the corner of a gray suit jacket peeking out from behind a container. Ralavich was lying in wait for Cal, just a little way ahead. “Tell him to stop!”

  Nina spoke into her headset. “Cal! Stop!”

  Through the binoculars, I saw Cal stop. He looked down in confusion at his shirt pocket as if he’d forgotten the radio was there.

  “Your man is ahead of you in the south-west quadrant,” Nina told him. “Take a left.” Cal turned. “Your other left!” she told him. “Towards the customs area!”

  Cal stopped and fumbled to press the talk button on his radio...which meant lowering his rifle. “Where’s the customs area?”

  “Past the refrigerated containers!”

  Cal looked around in confusion. “What do those look like?”

  Nina cursed. I bit my lip. This was no good: she was doing her best, but she was used to dock workers who knew every nook and cranny of the docks. And every time Cal had to stop and ask something, he had to take his hands off his rifle, which made him vulnerable. It wasn’t her fault: she’d never guided anyone who was completely out of their element, before.

  But I had. “Please, I need a headset.”

  Nina motioned to a young, blond-haired guy with glasses and he took off his headset and passed it to me. I settled it onto my head. “Cal?” I said. “It’s me. Put the radio in your pocket and I’ll guide you, okay?”

  Through the binoculars, I saw his shoulders relax. He nodded and put the radio away, readying his rifle.

  “Okay, ahead of you there’s a wall of containers: blue on the bottom, red on the top. Head straight towards that.” He did it. “Good, now turn ninety degrees to your left. There’s a big stack of white containers with black fans on the ends. I want you to go past those and keep going until you reach the green container covered in graffiti.”

  I guided him step by step, just like helping someone on a support call. After a while, I felt Nina move silently in behind me and lay a comforting hand on my shoulder.

  I took Cal around Ralavich’s ambush and then, when Ralavich realized he wasn’t coming and took off again, I guided him down the fastest route to intercept him. The two of them were nearly at the far end of the maze, now, right near the edge of the port. And the cops were still far behind. “You’re right on him,” I told Cal. “He’s moving parallel to you, behind the wall of containers to your left.”

  And then there was nothing more I could do except watch...and pray.

  74

  Cal

  I CREPT ALONG the container, rolling my feet instead of stepping, making no sound at all. Rufus pressed tight to my side, just as silent. Ahead of us was a rusty fence that marked the edge of the port. It was sagging and ripped and there were holes big enough to squeeze through. Beyond that, there was a patch of marshy wasteland and beyond that, the city and a million places where Ralavich could disappear.

  I reached the corner of the container and peeked around it—

  There was a roar of gunfire and sparks singed my cheek. I whipped back around the corner, hearing the echo of the ricochet rolling around and around the metal walls of the maze. He’d missed my head by an inch.

  I’d gotten a look at him, just a fleeting glimpse. There’d been true fear in his eyes: that was why he wasn’t taunting or gloating. He knew he was in trouble. But that made him very, very dangerous.

  I waited several seconds, the only sound my heart thumping in my chest. Then I edged forward again….

  Another blast of gunfire and this time the bullets passed so close, I heard them hiss past my face. I pulled back against the container, poked the assault rifle around the edge, and blind-fired, holding down the trigger for a second, to keep him from coming around the corner. Then I stood there cursing up a storm. He had us pinned down. We were safe as long as we stayed put, but if we stayed put, we couldn’t stop him. And at any point, he could just walk away, keeping his gun on us, and escape.

  Even as I thought it, he started to do just that. The sun was throwing his shadow on the ground and I could see him backing towards the fence, his gun still pointed at us. Shit!

  He reached the fence. I heard it rattle as he pushed his way through it. There was the sound of tearing cloth and cursing in Russian. Then he was through and backing away across the wasteland, his shadow getting smaller and smaller.

  I checked my rifle and cursed again. I only had one round left.

  Ralavich was hurrying, now. He could hear the sirens wailing, just as I could, but it sounded like the cops had only just now arrived at the maze. They still had to thread their way all the way to this end. He’s going to get away!

  I had to step out from the cover, exposing myself, and take the shot.

  It might get me killed. But if I let Ralavich escape, he’d hurt more women. And Bethany would never be able to relax, knowing he was out there.

  I took two quick breaths and then whipped around the container, bringing the rifle up to my eye.

  Time slowed down. It felt as if I was moving through molasses. It took me a second to locate Ralavich, about four hundred yards away, running across the wasteland, checking over his shoulder every few seconds. And I’d emerged just as he did one of his checks. I saw him see me and his eyes narrow with hate. He raised his gun and fired, spraying bullets towards me. Unlike me, he didn’t have to aim carefully: he had plenty of rounds to waste.

  I heard bullets zip past me, making the metal container ring like a bell. One plucked at my shirt. Then one scored a line along my thigh and I grunted, a shudder rocking my body. My sights wavered and shook.

  I gritted my teeth and thought of Bethany. Do this for her. I imagined her wrapped around me from behind, her hair brushing my face, her kisses on my neck. My hands steadied. I took a breath, let it out halfway and held it.

  I fired my one remaining bullet.

  And Ralavich staggered and fell. He went full length in a puddle, sending up a spray of muddy water, and his gun went flying.

  I walked over to the fence, staggering a little myself. There was a red slash across my upper thigh, not deep but painful. I found a hole in the fence and ducked through, Rufus right behind me.

  We took our time getting to Ralavich. He wasn’t going anywhere: I’d put a bullet right through his upper thigh. A body shot would have been easier but that might have killed him and he deserved to rot in prison for the rest of his life.

  As we approached, he struggled to get up but then fell back on the ground, groaning and cursing. His expensive suit was ripped, from where he’d struggled through the fence, his pants were soaked with mud and he’d lost one of his handmade leather shoes when he fell.

  Just as we reached him, he made a lunge for the gun he’d dropped. I kicked it out of reach. With a howl of fury, he scrambled to his feet one last time and swung his fist at my face.

  I dodged backward and gave him a very satisfying punch right in the jaw. He fell back
in the mud. Rufus pounced, putting his full weight on Ralavich’s chest and snarling into his face. Ralavich went limp, defeated.

  I glanced over my shoulder towards the control room: I could feel Bethany watching over us like a protective angel. When I looked at Ralavich again, the anger on his face had been replaced by fear and horrified disbelief. He couldn’t believe he’d finally been brought down not by the police, not by the FBI, but by a woman, a man, and a dog.

  “Good boy,” I told Rufus, ruffling his fur. “Very good boy.”

  Epilogue

  Bethany

  Three Months Later

  “Okay,” I called. “Pass the next one up. I got this.”

  I was ten feet up in the air, straddling a roof beam and swinging my legs in the air, basking in the Colorado sunshine. Cal climbed the ladder step by careful step, his head rising into view from below, a log balanced on his shoulder. I leaned down and kissed him, then helped him maneuver it into place. Then I sat back and grinned. We had a long way to go: we had the floor laid and the walls up but there was no glass in the windows and the roof was just a frame. Slowly, though, our new home was taking shape.

  We were building it with thick log walls that would be warm in winter, cool in summer, like the old cabin. But there were going to be modern touches, too. There’d be solar panels on the roof so that we had power, a chest freezer to store the meat Cal brought back from hunting trips, and a modern bathroom with a shower big enough for two. We’d rescued Cal’s old metal tub, though—one of the few things to survive the fire—in case we wanted to bathe out under the stars.