by Janie Crouch
“Lindstrom would be a hell of a lot quicker,” one of the SWAT guys finished for him.
“I know you think Dorian is your book buddy,” Zac whispered in her ear, “but you should see him in the wilderness. It’s uncanny.”
Looking at the large, quiet man, she didn’t doubt it. He read to escape. Being alone in the wilderness was not much different.
Dorian nodded. “I’ll get changed and be ready in fifteen minutes, Sheriff.”
* * *
“Need assistance. Everyone and sheriff. Dragon Strike.” Then the coordinates repeated over and over.
Zac, Finn, and Aiden were all frowning the next morning at the electronic message they’d just received from Dorian’s HC-12 transceiver.
It wasn’t unusual that he’d sent one via the radio transmitter—cell signal out in the middle of the forest area surrounding Mt. Bannon was sketchy at best. But the message itself was more than odd. “Dragon Strike” was the code name of an operation they’d been a part of in Afghanistan. There wasn’t a whole lot particularly memorable about that op except that they’d all had to work together to move stolen missiles they’d reacquired down the mountain. One soldier’s ankle had been broken in the middle of the operation, but he’d kept going.
“Why the hell is he talking about Dragon Strike?” Aiden asked.
If one of the lost hikers needed medical assistance, Dorian would’ve said that rather than referring to a relatively obscure piece of their military history.
Finn shook his head. “I used that as an example when he and I were teaching Frank Jenkins’s group a couple weeks ago. But that had to do with how the body could sometimes be pushed more than you thought. Mind over matter stuff. I have no idea why Dorian would mention it now.”
“Who cares why. He wouldn’t be asking for us if he didn’t need us.” Aiden pointed to his computer screen. “Look at this location. Hell, we can drive almost all of it. Then it should just be about an hour hike.”
Zac nodded. “Something has to be pretty damn wrong if Dorian stopped there rather than getting those hikers the rest of the way out. It should’ve been easy at that point.”
Finn was already heading out the door. “I’ll notify the sheriff and get paramedics rolling in that direction. Meet you there.”
Ten minutes later, dressed in fatigues and boots, Aiden and Zac were storing their Remington 700s in the truck, sidearms at their waists.
Something about this didn’t feel right.
Zac called Anne as they sped toward the coordinates. It wouldn’t be long before they lost cell coverage completely. She answered after the first ring.
“Hey.” He could hear the smile in her voice. He couldn’t stop the one that covered his face in return.
“Hey. Listen, we got a message from Dorian. He needs assistance with the hikers, so Finn, Aiden, and I are heading out to help.”
“Okay. I’m done here in a few minutes.”
“Do me a favor and go straight to my place, okay? I know it looks like the attacker has moved on, but I don’t want you alone at your house. Ethan misses Duchess and the pups, and Wavy will be bringing him over to the office.”
“Okay. I’ll get someone to walk me to my car and go straight there, promise. And you be careful.”
“Promise.” The signal cut out before he could say any more.
“Signal already gone?” Aiden asked.
“Yeah, this is kind of a fifty-mile dead spot. Cell companies have been saying for years they’re going to do something, but I guess since there aren’t any houses and not much traffic, it’s not a big priority.”
They drove as far as they could on the road toward the coordinates, then went off-road for a while. When the trees became too tight to drive through, they slid the rifle straps over their shoulders, spun them around so they were on their back, and took off at a jog.
As they came up on Dorian’s coordinates, they slowed, bringing their rifles around in case there was trouble. But at the location Dorian had sent them were three men sitting around a fire. Zac approached while Aiden stayed behind to cover them if there was danger.
“Hello, camp!” Zac called out, not wanting to get shot by inexperienced people who might be jumpy.
“Hello?” one called out. “Thank goodness. We have an injured man down here, and we’re pretty much lost.”
Zac kept his rifle in a position that wasn’t directly threatening, but would be easy for him to use if needed.
“Who’s wounded?” he asked as he approached.
“The guy who found us. Named Dorian Lindstrom.”
What the hell? Dorian was wounded? “Where is he?”
One of the guys pointed to a small overhang. “We laid him right over there after he passed out.”
Dorian had been tortured to within an inch of his life, and the man hadn’t passed out.
Zac placed his rifle back over his shoulder but kept his hand near the Glock at his hip as he moved quickly to Dorian’s unconscious form. “What happened to him?”
He took Dorian’s pulse. Strong, which was good. But he was out cold, not sleeping. Dorian would never sleep through this anyway.
“He found us yesterday afternoon. I think we were about eight or ten miles away. He led us here, but then it got dark, and it was raining, so he said we would stay here for the night and walk out the rest of the way in the morning.”
“Okay.” That sounded about right. “Did he get hit with something? Attacked by something or someone?” Zac felt Dorian’s head for any bumps that would signal the cause for his unconsciousness.
All three men started talking at once. Zac held out his hand and pointed at one. “You. What’s your name?”
“Mario.”
“Tell me what happened.”
“Jeff,” he pointed a thumb at the guy next to him, “wanted to know more about Dorian’s communicator. He’s a tech geek. Dorian was showing him how it worked and said it was used mostly for military purposes, but that he happened to have one. He said we didn’t need it because he knew the way back to town.”
“Okay. Skip to the part where Dorian is unconscious.”
Mario shrugged. “That’s just it, man. None of us knows what happened. We were stoked to see him because, like I said, we were lost. He led us here, and we all went to sleep. When we woke up this morning, Dorian wouldn’t.”
“So, which one of you sent the message this morning?” Zac asked.
Mario looked around at the other two guys. Jeff shook his head no as did the other one. “Someone sent you a message? I don’t think any of us did it.”
Zac pointed at Jeff. “You were most interested in the transponder. You didn’t send the message asking for help?”
“No. I would’ve liked to mess with it, but I was afraid Dorian would kick my ass or leave me out here. He’s a little scary.”
“Maybe the other guy sent it,” Mario said.
Goddamn it. “What other guy?” Zac asked through clenched teeth. These men were morons.
“There was another guy we met up with this morning,” Mario said quickly. “We were happy to see him because we didn’t know what to do when we couldn’t get Dorian to wake up. I saw him fiddling with the radio, but then he said he was heading out and would send help.”
“And then he left?” Zac looked around at all three, who were nodding their heads.
Aiden walked into the campsite. “All’s clear out there, Zac,” he said, startling the other three men. “Nobody is around.” Aiden’s presence didn’t make the younger men less nervous.
“Dorian’s out cold. I’m pretty sure he’s been drugged. Doesn’t have any wounds as far as I can tell.”
“None of these guys could get the drop on D anyway.” Aiden glanced at them dismissively before kneeling beside their unconscious friend.
Zac agreed. He didn’t think they meant anyone any harm. Even if they did, they wouldn’t have been able to get a hit in on Dorian. But drugging his food or water? “One of them is missing. Took
off without a word.”
“Said he was a big game hunter and was after the one who got away,” Mario told them. “I don’t know what that means, and honestly, I’m glad he’s gone because he was a little weird.”
“How so?”
Mario shrugged. “Talked about hunting all the time. Said he’d picked up some new ways lately. All over Wyoming and Colorado.”
Zac’s eyes narrowed. “What sort?”
Mario, Jeff, and their other friend looked at each other nervously.
Jeff finally answered. “The guy said he liked to trap his prey.”
“Which was fine,” Mario continued. “It is still done in some places. But then Frank started talking about how he liked trapping his prey in alleys.”
“Frank?” Both he and Aiden’s faces flew up.
“Yeah. Guy said that his prey was best when they were nice and bloody.” Jeff’s face was a little green. “That he liked to get them scared. Then said he wanted to stay and make sure Dorian was all right, but he had to go hunting for the one that got away.”
Zac’s stomach dropped. He stood, looking at Aiden. “Oh, dear God.” He got out his phone with a picture that Frank had sent him last week after the third Linear class he and his posse had taken, thankful now he hadn’t erased it. Frank was in the middle, right under the Linear Tactical sign, one arm around Zac, the other Finn, his buddies on either side. He was grinning from ear to ear.
They’d been led out here. Lured where there was no cell phone coverage for miles and Annie—the one who’d gotten away—had been left alone. And someone she knew, even though she may not like him, was the one who had been attacking women.
He spun the phone to Jeff. “This. Is this Frank?”
Even though it wasn’t even noon, and the sun was shining high in the sky, Anne still refused to walk alone to her car at the back of the parking lot. Not because she was afraid, but because she had promised.
She barely refrained from rolling her eyes when she saw Mia was also getting ready to leave. They could both call for one of the pedestrian escorts the hospital was now providing, or just bite the bullet, save some time, and go together.
Mia sighed when she saw Anne. “Shall we?”
All the way across the parking lot, Anne waited for some sort of insult or another threat disguised as a heartfelt warning. But nothing.
“What?” Mia asked as they neared the back of the parking lot. “You’re looking at me like you expect me to attack you any second.”
“No. Just waiting for the warn-off about Zac.”
Mia shook her head. “Don’t worry. I’m done with that.”
“No longer afraid I’ll get my heart broken?”
“I’ve seen how the guys look at you. You’ve got everyone’s attention now. So yeah, I’m a little concerned you might decide you like it, and Zac will suffer. You’re a late bloomer. No one would blame you for wanting to bask in the attention you didn’t get back in the day.”
“Nobody else is giving me any, Mia.”
The blonde shook her head. “Oh, they are. You just don’t notice. You never did.”
“I’m not looking for anyone’s but Zac’s.”
She shrugged. “You feel that way now, but you might not always.”
Anne watched as Mia got into her car, then walked the few spaces to her own. Well, things had certainly come full circle if Mia was now afraid Anne was going to break Zac’s heart. No doubt she planned to be there with open arms if Anne did. That much hadn’t changed.
Who could blame a girl for holding out hope for Zac? Anne had certainly done it most of her life.
She drove directly to Linear as promised, the place seeming empty with no classes or people running around with guns. She parked in front of the office, so she could let Duchess out and see Harley and the other pups.
And yeah, she may still be there playing with them when Zac got home. She couldn’t resist those little bundles of fur.
She’d been sitting on the ground with them for a few minutes, Harley scooped against her chest, when she saw it.
A small pyramid of rocks stacked on the arm of the couch.
She blanched, fear cutting off her oxygen. What was that doing here?
Her phone ringing in her pocket caused her to let out a little scream. She looked down at the display. Wavy.
“W-Wavy?”
“Hey girl, you doing okay?”
“I-I-I...” She forced her lips shut, trying to get in air so she could talk. She needed to Calm. Down.
Wavy evidently didn’t even notice. “Listen, I just wanted to let you know that Ethan and I came by there a little while ago and let Duchess out.”
Anne took another breath. “You-you-you were here?”
“Yeah, but we had to go. Ethan’s teacher has a special project she wanted him to work on and needed to go over it with him.”
Ethan had been here. Ethan was always building things. “C-can you ask Ethan if he built a tiny pyramid out of some flat stones? On the arm of the couch in the office?”
She heard Wavy ask her nephew.
“He said yes. He saw the design somewhere and thought it was interesting.”
Relief rushed through her. Not the rapist. Just Ethan. “Can you ask where he saw it?”
Had the attacker been waiting somewhere else? God forbid, near the school? Or maybe Ethan had heard Finn, Zac, and the guys talking about it. Maybe he’d seen a picture.
“He doesn’t remember. Typical seven-year-old. He can recall the date, time, and second if you promise to take him out for ice cream. Everything else, especially if he’s looking at a video game? Forget it. Is it important?”
Maybe Ethan had seen something and didn’t even know it. She would talk to Finn when he got home. “No, it’s fine, don’t worry about it.”
“All right. This is just a thirty-minute session, so we’ll come hang out afterward, okay?”
“Sounds great. See you then.” It would be nice having someone else around. Anne usually liked time alone, but she was a little spooked now.
Puppy cuddles made her feel better. They were getting older now, moving around more, even though they didn’t wander too far from their mama. She cuddled all three in her lap, watching to see if it bothered Duchess. But the dog was like most mothers of toddlers, whether of the canine or infant variety: exhausted.
She looked over a few minutes later at her phone’s chirp to find a text from Wavy.
Ethan remembered where he saw the pyramid pattern. On the fire escape in the training warehouse the night the power blew. Hope that helps.
Anne set the puppies off her lap. One of the attacker’s calling cards had been left here on the day she was attacked.
The rapist had been on Linear property. Had been here—had probably created the electrical damage that had only finally been fixed a few days ago—just before attacking her.
He’d been making sure Zac was otherwise occupied, that he wouldn’t do anything like come pick Annie up for a romantic dinner or even just give her a ride home.
Whoever had attacked her was someone who’d known she and Zac were already a couple, maybe someone Anne had come in personal contact with before.
At the slamming knock on the office door, a short yelp of fear fell from her lips. Her phone was in her hand, Zac’s number already dialed—he wouldn’t care if it was the UPS man at the door and she was an idiot—but it went straight to his voicemail. What could he do anyway?
She stayed frozen, hoping the person would leave. But the pounding came again. Then a voice. A familiar one.
“Zac? Finn? Is anybody here?”
She watched, frozen, as the knob turned, and the door opened. Frank Jenkins walked in. More like stormed in, actually.
Frank knew enough about the Linear property to damage the training facility and make sure Zac was away from her that night. Also, about what Zac had taught her to predict she would notice the broken lights at the park and turn toward town.
She took a step b
ack, her hands coming out in front of her in an instinctive gesture to protect herself.
“Dr. Griffin. Hey, um, is Zac here? Or Finn? Or any of the guys?”
Frank was breathing hard, like he’d been running. She couldn’t let him know that she was alone. That all the guys were out somewhere in the wilderness.
That no one was here but her and Frank, who was looking at her with wildness in his eyes.
“I’ve really got to talk to them right now,” he continued before she could say anything.
“Y-yeah.” She finally found her words. “They’re all here somewhere. Somewhere close. Let me get Zac for you. Why don’t you sit down on the c-couch?”
He took a step forward, farther inside, and she took one back.
Lesson one. Zac’s voice floated through her mind. You win one hundred percent of fights you don’t get in. If you can get away, always try that first.
She had to get out of here.
“Okay, yeah.” Frank nodded frantically. “If you could get him—any of them—that would be great. I need to tell them something.”
He sat down and ran a weary hand across his face. Had he come here to confess all his crimes? What he’d done to her and those other women? Bile rose in her throat. She had to get out. Keeping her eyes trained on him, sure that he would jump any minute to grab her, she backed toward the door.
She was almost there, her hand finding the knob behind her and opening it, when Frank turned to her, arm outstretched.
“Anne, I’m so sorry. I never dreamed—”
She watched the blood drain from his face.
A voice, that voice, whispered in her ear. Hot breath burned her the way it had in the alley. “I think what Frank is trying to say is that he’s sorry he brought me into your life.”
She looked over her shoulder. Frank’s buddy, Shawn. The friendly one.
He wrapped a hand around her throat and pulled her against him. Frank lunged for them, but Shawn just stepped aside, then pulled out a gun and shot Frank in the chest.
