by CJ Lyons
He left her, began walking past the two cars and his truck to the cabin. Sarah ran after him. "Sam, no! Wait."
The cabin door opened and Alan emerged, aiming a gun at them. "Just in time, Sam. Come on in."
The stench of vinyl overwhelmed Caitlyn, gagging her. She opened her eyes to absolute black. She was being carried, lifted by someone. Hal.
He laid her on something hard. She struggled, but her arms felt leaden, her hands distant, as if they were floating in space, unattached to her. She flailed, kicked, trying to will her stubborn limbs to obey her.
He'd drugged her, the thought came through a veil of scarlet panic. Said he was going to kill her—was going to kill everyone.
She took a deep breath and a clammy sheet of material clung to her face. She kicked out. Heavy vinyl was wrapped all around her.
Then her fingers found a small seam of metal.
A body bag. He'd put her in a body bag.
Panic reunited her body and mind. Her fingers still tingled but she forced them to follow the zipper, find its origin.
A weight clamped down over her chest, holding her in place. A harsh sound grated through the darkness. Then a flap of the black material fell aside and cool, fresh air streamed over her face. Hal straddled her, his face filled with concern as he stroked the sweaty strands of her hair away from her mouth and nose.
"I was hoping you wouldn't wake up until the end," he said. Brilliant ribbons of crimson and purple streamed through the sky behind him. Caitlyn realized the rushing sound that filled her head was real. The sound of a waterfall.
"That's where she went in," he was shouting above the sound of the falls, pointing downstream. "I can't carry you that close, but this will do just fine." He looked past her to the churning water and a small smile twisted his face. "Yes, this is all going to work just fine."
"Hal, don't do this." Her words slurred, her tongue still thick with the after effects of the drugs. "This isn't what Lily would want."
"Sure it is," he said, his voice dreamy as if he weren't really talking to Caitlyn but to a ghost. "This is exactly how she wants it. How it was meant to be, foretold in the ancient legends. That's why she sent you to me—there has to be a maiden sacrificed. Just like there needs to be a god to save her." He looked down at her, touched a finger to her lips before she could protest. "This is how it must be."
He zipped the body bag shut.
CHAPTER 50
Sarah followed the men into the cabin. There was no light except what came from the single Coleman lantern and the setting sun. Julia huddled in a corner, crying, but otherwise appeared unhurt.
"Are you all right?" Sarah asked, crouching down to the teenager's level. Julia nodded tearfully and threw her arms around Sarah, clutching her so hard she could barely catch her breath.
"Did you hurt her?" Sam demanded.
"Relax, we didn't touch her. Good thing it was us who found her and not the Russian," Logan answered.
Sarah looked over Julia's shoulder as Logan clamped his fingers around Sam's arm and began to muscle him out the door. Sam dug in his heels, his fists tight.
"I'm not going anywhere until you let them go. They're no threat to you. It'll take them all night to get down the mountain."
Alan moved to stand beside Sarah, patting her hair as if she were a pet. If it wasn't for Julia holding her tight, Sarah would have gladly broken his hand for him. Followed by a nice eye-gouge and a knee to the groin.
"I'm not risking any double cross," Alan said. "Go on, get out of here. If the money isn't in my account by morning, I'll kill them both."
His voice was normal, that was the amazing thing about it. They all sounded so normal, so rational as if they were discussing the day's stock quotes.
"Leave them and come with us," Sam tried one last time, his gaze locking with Sarah's. "How can you be sure Logan won't take the money and run?"
Alan laughed and Logan's face turned dark with fury. "He thought he could, but no worries. Logan isn't going to betray me. Not unless he wants to be running from Korsakov the rest of his life." He waved the two men off, pulling Sarah to her feet. Julia reluctantly let go, remaining on the floor. "Go on, Sarah and I have a lot to," he smiled at Sarah and she felt her stomach clench in disgust, "discuss. Privately."
He held Sarah in a close embrace, his body pressed against her back. Sarah drew her breath in, forced herself to remain calm. "Go on, Sam. Remember what I said."
He gave her a sad half smile. "Your lips promise me a chance at life."
The song he'd left unfinished two years ago. She opened her mouth, wanting to say more, but it was too late. He was gone.
Caitlyn struggled as Hal lifted her, but the body bag wrapped itself around her, tangling her limbs. His laughter cut through her fear and the roar of the rapids. She felt him lurch, struggle for his balance, jostling her as the sound of the river grew louder.
"Goodbye Caitlyn," he shouted as he heaved her into space.
Caitlyn's stomach lurched. She flew through the air. The impact as she hit the water jarred through her. Then she was moving, careening in all directions, the water yanking her in one direction then another. She crashed into a rock, hitting her hip so hard her breath was stolen. The vinyl bag hadn't filled with water yet, leaving her with precious little oxygen.
The rapids pounded her against the rock, wedging her in place as they battered her. But it gave her time to search for the body bag's zipper. She clawed her fingers along the unyielding material, finally finding the metal seam.
Her movement freed her from the eddy and she catapulted back out into the main current, tumbled in all directions until she wasn't sure if she was facing up or down. Another boulder slammed against her, then another.
The roar of the falls was louder now, drowning out everything, even the panicked pounding of her heart. Icy fingers of water seeped into the bag. She sucked in the last bit of oxygen.
The bag filled quickly now, pulling her down, slowing her passage down the river. Cold, it was so very cold. Her fingers fumbled, tracking the zipper down, down. Her lungs screamed for oxygen as she twisted her body within the black confines of her prison.
She snagged the zipper pull, yanked it. A small opening, only enough to allow one hand through, appeared before the small bit of metal slipped from her numb fingers. She wrenched at the material. Slowly it parted.
The current tumbled her upside down once more, tearing the fabric away from her hands, pulling her through the narrow opening. Caitlyn opened her eyes but the water was almost as dark as it had been inside the bag.
A red sheen glimmered below her—was that the surface? Or her vision dimming from lack of oxygen?
A submerged tree limb snagged her, freeing her momentarily from the current. Nowhere to go, nowhere to hide. She was overwhelmed by the impulse to exhale, to release her remaining oxygen, surrender to the water.
The idea brought with it a sensation of peace, of calm.
Caitlyn kicked away from the tree's embrace, fought to gain the darkening red gleam. Her legs could barely move as they fought against the current, her arms flailed through the churning water and her chest felt ready to explode.
The smudge of red was dimming, growing farther away. Panic seized her and she kicked harder, one last try.
Her mind grew hazy, she couldn't feel her arms or legs. She was floating, floating through space. Was this what her father had felt in that instant before his brain shut down?
Her body slammed into a rock bed, scraping her back raw. She pulled away, gasped for air, drew in water and began to choke and sputter. Heaving her chest forward, her face broke through the water and she sucked in fresh air.
After several deep breaths, she was able to focus, to look around. Her leg was caught under a rock outcropping, trapping her. Good thing, too, because she was in an eddy just above the falls. The spray from the angry water filled the air with starry sparkles caught in the moonlight.
She raised her head, looked across the river
. She was on the opposite bank from where she'd begun. The red taillights of Hal's truck were vanishing in the distance. He was either following his plan to set the explosives or he was driving down to the bridge and coming back to finish her off. Either way, she had to get moving.
She blinked water from her eyes and looked into the face of the blue moon hanging so low that she was certain she could reach out and touch it. You haven't won yet, Lily.
JD was ready to hit someone. Or something. He was so damned tired of waiting. He squeezed his eyes shut, willing time to fly past and Julia to be there, safe and sound when he opened them. But all he saw were visions of awful things happening to her, things that made him feel sick.
He lurched to his feet and ran to the door.
"You okay?" his dad asked as JD tugged at the door handle.
"Just going to the restroom." JD frowned, pulled against the door. It rattled but didn't move more than a quarter of an inch or so. "It's stuck."
"What's the problem, son?" The Colonel asked.
"The door. It's locked or something." JD shook it to demonstrate.
"Nonsense," the Colonel's wife said. "There's no lock on that door. Fire code." She marched over, the men moving aside for her four-foot-ten frame and reached for the door handle. The door didn't open for her either. "Look through the window, can you see anything?"
JD craned his head, pressing it against the glass. "No."
"Just go out the other way," his dad said, walking to the outside door. He pushed against it. "It's locked as well."
"No. It locks from the inside," the Colonel pointed out. He added his weight and the two men heaved against the door. There was no window in the outside door, so the men joined JD and Victoria at the inside door, craning to peer through it. "Looks like a bar or something. One of those police locks that push against a door."
"Like a traffic boot?" JD asked.
The Colonel nodded. "Who the hell would want to lock us in here?"
"Stop standing there and call Hal. That's what he's paid for," his wife ordered.
JD's father was nearest the phone. He raised the receiver. "Dead." He grabbed the radio, pressed the button. "Nothing." JD noted that his words were coming fast, like they were under pressure. He sat down in Hal's seat and turned on the computer. "It's dead as well."
Then the lights went out.
"Don't panic," Victoria said. "The building has an emergency generator. It should kick in any minute."
They stood still, the only sound their breathing in the small, cave-like room. For the first time JD noticed there were no outside windows. How could Hal stand working in here?
"The generator should have kicked in," the Colonel said. JD felt him brush past as he fumbled his way across the room. "Hell," he muttered as there was a slam of flesh striking a hard object. One of the chairs skidded across the room, then a beam of light circled around the room from the flashlight he held, spotlighting their faces in a high-powered glare. "Let me have a look."
The Colonel and JD's father began to search the desk. "Anyone have a cell phone?" JD asked. He'd given his to Hal for evidence and it was locked in the safe.
Both older men looked at him like he was crazy. His father refused to carry one except in his delivery truck for emergencies. And who was the Colonel going to call when everyone in town came to him to gossip?
They turned to look at Victoria. A frown furrowed her face. "It's in my purse," she said, pressing her face against the window, staring out into the darkened post office. "Behind the counter."
"That's all right," JD's dad said, bending over the bottom desk drawer. "I think I found—"
"Get away from that!" the Colonel barked.
"What the hell is it? Those look like," JD's dad was stuttering, backing away from the desk in horror, "like, but they can't be—"
"They are. Enough C4 to blow up half the town. It's a bomb."
CHAPTER 51
Sam wanted to walk out the door without looking back. It would be easier for everyone that way. He couldn't do it. His feet tripped on the threshold and he turned his head, glanced back.
And froze in place, unable to break free of the sight of Sarah. Her eyes blazed out in defiance until she locked gazes with Sam.
His pulse beat in his throat, he would have screamed if he could have gotten a breath. The heartbreak in her eyes told him she knew as well as he did that they both wouldn't survive this day. But then, she smiled. Not one of her brighter-than-the-sun grins that had first made him fall in love with her. No, one of her twisted, "hey this is the real world, deal with it," half-smiles to let him know she had faith in him. That she knew if there was a way for him to make sure she and Julia made it out of this hell alive, then he would do it.
The blood drained from his face. How could she place her hope in him? A fucked up loser who should have been washed up on some Santa Monica beach years ago?
He gave her a tiny nod. Let her know that he understood. He stepped out the door and out of her sight.
As soon as his foot hit the hard-packed dirt of the parking area, a plan began forming. He pursed his lips, whistled a little diddy he'd called "The Idiot's Guide to Driving Drunk" and strolled towards Logan's Taurus, his plan shaping up.
It was a suicide mission, but it would buy Sarah the time she needed. From the gleam in her eye, he was certain she had her own plan cooking. That was his girl. She never stopped thinking about ways to make things better and she never, ever gave up. Not even on a hopeless beach bum like him.
He reached a hand for Logan's driver's door.
"No," Logan said, waving his gun. "We'll take the truck. You drive."
Sure thing. Sam forced himself to hang his head so that Logan wouldn't see the grin he couldn't suppress. He slumped his shoulders, his diddy still swirling through his head as he opened the truck's door and climbed up onto the seat, springs squeaking and groaning beneath his weight.
Sorry old friend, he thought to the Ford Ranger. We've had some good times together, but now those good times are about to come to an end.
For one of us at least. Logan yanked open the passenger door and tore Josh's booster seat from the truck, hurling it to the ground. "What's that?" he asked, craning a look into the small compartment behind the seats.
"My guitar. Want me to open it for you?"
"Leave it," he said as he hoisted himself up into the passenger seat and slammed the door. He didn't bother with the seatbelt, instead turned to keep his gun trained on Sam. "You pretending to be a cowboy with your truck and guitar? Hide the truth of what you really are to the world? A liar and a thief."
When Sam was silent, Logan gestured for him to start the truck. Sam made a three point turn, narrowly avoiding the tree trunks clustered around the tiny clearing and bumped the Ford over the rutted dirt track.
"What's Alan got on you?" Sam asked as he began to accelerate.
"Easton's going to get himself a bullet if he's not careful." Logan craned his head, looking through the windshield at the thick foliage whipping against the sides of the truck surrounding them. "The man's a fool. He sees a hundred million dollars and thinks of the shit he can buy with it. A new car. A boat. Idiot. Money is power. Control. With money you can own anything—or anyone."
"You couldn't buy me," Sam argued.
"Which is why we can't let you live. Otherwise you might blab to Korsakov. But," he turned to Sam with a grin revealing teeth as crooked as the logging road they were driving on, "I'll let you decide where you want to be buried and how you want to die."
Sam shifted down, the truck growling in response. He pressed down on the accelerator, taking the first curve so fast that the rear tires nearly spun off the side of the road. The only thing on that side of the road was a whole lot of nothing. That was the point, right?
"You're not really going to let Sarah and Julia go, are you?" Sam asked. "They know too much."
"Oh we'll let them go," Logan said. "Promise. Just no guarantees Korsakov won't pick them up and make a
n example of them." He shifted in his seat, leaning toward Sam. "So, what's it gonna be? A bullet in the head? Or one to the heart?"
One more turn and Sam saw the spot he wanted. He gunned the engine, slamming down on the accelerator until he thought his foot would break through the floorboard and find empty air. Logan was flung back in his seat as they careered over the edge of the road and off the side of the mountain.
"How about none of the above?"
CHAPTER 52
Alan was actually licking his lips in anticipation of getting his hands on the money. Could care less about what happened to Sarah or Julia.
Julia. She had to focus on her, do whatever it took to get her out of here alive. No matter the cost.
Sarah backed up, leaving Julia in the corner, until she was pinned against the wall beside the fireplace. The only light was the flickering of the lantern, casting the mounted antlers hanging just above the mantle next to her into ghostly shadows. She remembered how proud the Colonel was. That buck had been her first kill, a four pointer. She had polished and sharpened those antlers herself, mounting them to a sturdy piece of oak and hanging them with pride as the Colonel watched. Now she was the one as trapped as a deer in a hunter's sights.
A chill wind blew in through the still open door, taunting her with freedom. Alan sidled closer, his eyes wide in anticipation. "We don't have much time left, Sarah. Let's not waste any more."
He stopped inches away from her, his gaze dropping from her eyes to her lips then down to her breasts. She shifted her weight, inching along the wall, one hand behind her, gripping the wall.
Alan slid the gun barrel across her stomach. Her muscles clenched, trying to pull away from his noxious touch. His smile widened and now his eyes fastened on hers as the gun inched below her shirt, caressing her bare skin. The metal was cold, rough as it crept up, coming to a rest between her breasts.
