HUNTED
Everyday Heroes Series Book One
Margaret Daley
Hunted
Copyright © 2018 by Margaret Daley
Smashwords Edition
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author, except by a reviewer, who may quote brief passages in a review.
All texts contained within this document are a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons (living or dead), is entirely coincidental.
Dedication
To ordinary men who do extraordinary deeds
Chapter One
Luke Michaels lay in his sleeping bag, hovering between consciousness and a dream state. A low growl yanked him wide awake. He sat straight up, still in a cocoon of warmth. Another deep rumble from Shep alerted Luke to possible danger. His German shepherd was nearby. He freed himself from his confines and scrambled to his feet.
Fearing a bear, Luke grabbed his rifle and hurried from his tent in the hills along the Kentucky River. He searched for his dog in the surrounding woods and spied him standing on a boulder overlooking the water. Tense. Alert.
In the early dawn, Luke scanned the terrain as he made his way to Shep. So focused on something in the distance, his dog didn’t even acknowledge Luke’s presence. He knelt next to his black and brown German shepherd and looked in the direction his dog stared.
What Luke saw chilled him in the warmth of a summer morning—a woman struggled to free herself from two men on the bridge. One guy slammed a fist into her jaw, and she went limp.
“Stay.”
Barefooted, Luke plowed into the dense brush along the river, moving as fast as he could toward the trio a couple hundred yards away. Something sharp pierced the sole of his foot. He couldn’t stop to see what. He kept going. His gaze shifted from the terrain to the two thugs hoisting her over the side.
Chains bound her.
Heart pounding, he stopped and raised his rifle, but before he could get off a shot, the assailants let her go. Too late.
She splashed into the water and sank below.
Quickly, the two men disappeared from the side of the bridge. Clutching his rifle, Luke kept an eye on where she went into the river and raced as fast as he could nearer the location. He stopped on the bank closest to the area where she went under, laid his rifle down, and waded out into the cool water. He swam in the direction he thought she’d be, hoping she was still alive. The chains must have taken her to the bottom of the river. The very thought spurred him faster until he reached the spot. He dove down. The murky river limited his vision. He searched, sweeping his arms in front of him.
He didn’t want to add her death to the others he hadn’t been able to save. He surfaced, drew in a deep breath, then went back down. His lungs hurt. Would she even be alive if he found her?
He turned to swim up for another fortifying gulp of air when his foot brushed against something. He twisted back and felt around the muddy river. His hand encountered an arm. He couldn’t waste any time bringing her to the surface.
Lungs burning, he clasped her under the arms and shot upward, her chain-clad body slowing his ascent. But he poured all his energy into kicking his legs. Finally, he broke through the surface, gulping in precious breaths while keeping her head above the water, pressing it against his as he swam for the shore a hundred feet away. He couldn’t help her until he got her on land.
He dragged her out of the river and placed her on the ground. Thick chains bound her from her chest to below her knees. After he shoved them down her torso as much as he could, he immediately began chest compressions. He glanced at her beautiful face framed by shoulder length dark blonde hair.
“Live!”
She stirred, coughing and turning her head as water flowed from her mouth. Luke supported her upper body as she continued to clear her lungs. His gaze traveled down her body to assess for injuries. It was hard to tell with the shackles restraining arm and leg movement, but he didn’t see any blood, except her lips where one of the men had struck her.
Finally, the woman stopped coughing and sank against his embrace, her eyelids fluttering. He pressed two fingers against her neck. Her racing pulse didn’t surprise him after what she’d gone through.
“I’m Luke Michaels. Do you hurt anywhere?”
She opened her eyes, and for a few seconds, their crystalline blue color trapped him in a stare.
“No.” She tried to sit up but collapsed back against him. “Yes.” She drew in a breath then coughed again. “Hurt—all over.”
He placed her gently on the ground. “Let me see if I can get these chains off you.”
“Thanks,” she murmured in a weak, raspy voice.
He tugged on the restraints, but the two padlocks holding the manacles around her remained tightly closed. “I need to take you back to my tent. I might be able to pick the locks.” He looked up at the bridge—no sight of the two men. “Besides, I don’t think this is a safe place to stay.”
She rolled her head to the side to glance toward the bridge. “What happened?”
“Two men threw you off the bridge.”
“Why?”
“You don’t know?”
“No…I don’t.” She closed her eyes.
For a few seconds, he thought she’d passed out, but when she fixed her gaze on his face, he released a long sigh. “What do you remember?”
“Waking up—in the trunk of a car.” She paused, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she sucked in shallow breaths. Panic took over her expression. Her eyes grew huge and flitted from one area to another.
Luke leaned into her line of vision. “Let’s get you out of here. You’re safe now.” After slinging his rifle across his back, he worked his arms under her body then struggled to his feet, which painfully reminded him he’d stepped on something earlier. “My camp isn’t too far from here.”
While the lady rested her head against his shoulder, he retraced his path, limping the whole way back to Shep. His dog had stayed where he’d told him. Stopping near his German shepherd, Luke looked him in the eye. “Good boy. Alert.”
The woman stared up at Luke. “Alert? You think those men will come here?” She tensed, fear invading her features.
“Alert is one of Shep’s commands to stand guard. We’re a team. We do a lot of search and rescue.”
Her brows knitted together. “You were looking for me?”
“No. I like to go camping when I can get away. I was asleep when Shep alerted me that something was happening on the bridge.” Luke ducked through the opening in the tent and laid her on his sleeping bag. “What’s your name?”
He moved to his backpack and rummaged through it until he found his Swiss Army knife. While he went to work on the first padlock, she remained silent. After opening the lock and removing part of her chains, he glanced up to find her eyes clouded, her eyebrows scrunched. “Do you know who you are?”
“Sure,” she said slowly. “I’m…” Her gaze slid away from his face.
He’d once rescued a couple of people who didn’t remember anything about what had happened to them. Was she traumatized so much by what had occurred that she didn’t even recall her name? After what he saw, it wouldn’t surprise him if she had. He continued to work, turning his attention to the second lock. She would be sore and bruised from the shackles.
As he released the last restraints from around her, she murmured, “Megan Witherspoon. All I remember is two guys dragging me out of a trunk to the side of the bridge.”
“So, you have no idea how you got into the trunk?”
Megan shook her head.
“Do you know the two
men?”
“I don’t think so. I only remember seeing one of them. The other was behind me.”
“What did he look like?”
“He’s tall and husky. Like a body builder.” Kneading the back of her neck, she stared at a spot on the tent above her. “Short dark hair—no, not short but pulled back.” She looked at Luke. “I think it’s long, but I’m not sure. And his eyes were so dark I thought they were black.”
“Where do you live?” he asked as Megan, clad in wet jeans and a hot pink T-shirt, stretched her arms and legs as though making sure they worked before she struggled to sit up. He immediately assisted her.
“Sweetwater City.”
“That’s twenty miles from here. Is that where they grabbed you?” Luke reached for his duffel bag and pulled it toward him.
“I—I think so.” Another series of coughs racked her body, her eyes watering from the exertion.
“When that guy hit you, he cut your lip.” He picked up a cloth and pressed it against her wound.
“Thanks.” She took the towel and held it against her mouth.
“You need to report this to the police.”
“No!” She let her hand drop away from her face. “I don’t know why someone tried to kill me. All I can remember is leaving my house to run errands.” Her voice quavered. “After that, nothing—until I woke up in the trunk.” Frustration dominated her expression as she massaged her temples.
Why would that keep her from reporting her abduction to the authorities? “But surely the police—”
“No. Those men think they killed me. How can I protect myself if I suddenly turn up alive, especially when I’m not sure what happened or what one of them looks like?” Shivering, Megan hugged her arms.
“Nothing needs to be decided right now. You’re soaking wet. I have a pair of sweat pants and a T-shirt you can put on.”
“That sounds wonderful.” When she smiled, her blue eyes lit as though the sun shone through them.
He rummaged through his backpack, pulling out each article of clothing. “Not quite your size but dry.”
“I’ll make it work.” Her gaze fixed on his left foot. “You’re bleeding.” She gestured toward the cut.
He turned to the duffel bag and withdrew his first aid kit. “This is what happens when you run through the woods barefooted. It’s nothing.”
“It doesn’t look like nothing to me. I can take care of it.”
He started to tell her not to worry, but the concern on her face warmed his heart.
“It’s the least I can do for you.”
“I appreciate it.” He handed her the kit and sat so his left foot was near her.
She laid his foot on her thigh then went to work, cleaning the injury then wrapping it in gauze. “You should get a tetanus shot and possibly have stitches.”
“I had a tetanus shot earlier this year.” Her gentle touch soothed the throbbing pain. “It looks like you’ve done this many times.”
“I’ve worked with children. There. I’m done.”
He started to say more, but fear and weariness carved deep lines into her face. After putting the first aid kit away, he put on his shoes and socks then stood, smiling. “Thanks.” He headed for the tent opening. “While you change, I’ll make breakfast and a pot of coffee. Come out when you’re ready.”
As Luke left Megan, one question came to the foreground. She couldn’t have been running errands today because it was six o’clock in the morning. So, when was she kidnapped? His mind raced with hundreds of scenarios that could have landed her in this predicament. If only she remembered where she’d been, when she was there, and what made two men abduct her. The not knowing could definitely get her killed.
* * *
Dressed in dry clothes, Megan glanced down at her attire of baggy, twice-her-size sweatpants while the T-shirt fell just above her knees. A chuckle escaped until she remembered being carrying to the side of the bridge, chains encasing her. All she could do was buck and twist as she fought to escape her frightening fate. What happened to her to put her in that situation?
Why can’t I remember?
A wave of tremors swamped her. She sank to the ground and wrapped her arms around her torso as she shook. She couldn’t let fear keep her from recalling the details that led to those kidnappers throwing her off the bridge. If she couldn’t figure that out, she would never be safe. And she had to be. School was starting in almost two weeks. She could never put her elementary students in danger.
What errands was I running?
That has to be the key.
She drew her legs up to her chest and clasped them, resting her head in the crook between her knees. But she couldn’t even picture getting up this morning.
She straightened. Duh! She couldn’t be running errands this early, which meant she was kidnapped before today. So, it wasn’t just a few hours she couldn’t remember but possibly days.
How long have I been gone from my house?
“Megan, are you all right?” Luke asked from the other side of the canvas opening.
His deep, husky voice sent a shiver of reassurance through her that she was safe for the time being. But then she really didn’t know her rescuer other than his name. Luke Michaels.
Why did that name sound familiar?
Did he live in Sweetwater City? He didn’t say he did.
“Megan?”
“I’m fine,” she finally answered in a scratchy voice, her throat sore. She reached for her still-wet belt and strapped it around the top of the sweat pants. Coughing, she pushed to her feet, moved the flap to the side, and ducked out of the tent. “Sorry. I was trying to figure out how I was going to keep these pants up. Thankfully I recalled my belt.”
He smiled, a dimple appearing in each cheek. His gray eyes shone like polished silver. “Do you want coffee?”
“Yes.” She hoped the hot brew would warm her insides and soothe her throat. Despite the temperature hovering around seventy, she couldn’t rid her body of a deep chill.
He covered the distance to the cooking stove, stooped and filled two cups, then handed her one. “Take a seat.” He swept an arm toward a small table with two chairs. “I went back to my SUV and got an extra chair and a few more dishes.”
As she sat, she glanced around at his equipment and supplies. “Do you go camping a lot?”
“Yes.” He placed his coffee on the table then took two paper plates and dished up the scrambled eggs and bacon. When he brought them to the table, he set one in front of her. “Shep and I are often involved in search and rescues in this area but also around the country, so I have to be prepared for anything. I keep my SUV stocked with a lot of emergency supplies. Sometimes, I don’t have much time to pack because I need to get to the rescue spot quickly.” He eased into the chair across from her. His brown dog with large patches of black moved to lie next to him.
“So, you live in this area?”
“Yes, on a horse farm between Lexington and Sweetwater City.”
She sipped her coffee, relishing the warmth. “Well, I’m glad you were here today. I owe you my life. Thank you.”
His short brown hair was nearly dry after his plunge into the Kentucky River. “If Shep hadn’t growled, I wouldn’t have known about you.” He reached down and rubbed his dog.
“May I pet him?”
“Sure. He loves people.”
Megan knelt next to Shep and held her hand out for him to smell. He licked her fingers. She laughed and stroked his back. “Good boy. I hear you’re my hero. Thanks.”
Shep rolled over and exposed his belly.
Megan shifted her attention to that area.
“He likes you. I’ve never seen him do that with others.”
“I’m glad. He’s a beauty.” She returned to her scrambled eggs. “When I was a little girl, I had a German shepherd. Her name was Lady although she rarely acted like one. She’d get into all kind of messes. Once she ate part of a white cake with a lot of icing for my birthday that wa
s on the counter in the kitchen. She left me half. I didn’t eat it, but I was tempted. I love cake, especially with thick icing.”
Luke chuckled. “Wise decision.”
“I’m an animal lover. What’s the name of your horse farm?”
“Riverdale Farm.” He finished a piece of bacon then turned his attention to his eggs.
So that was why she knew his name. Every year she watched the Kentucky Derby. He had two winners in the past five or six years. “You own Lightning Bolt?”
“Yes. I put him out to stud this year.”
“It’s rare for a horse to be a Triple Crown Winner. I was cheering him on. Is he stabled at Riverdale?”
“Yes. And spoiled rotten. Do you want anything else to eat?” he asked as she finished the last bite of her breakfast.
“No, but it was delicious. I usually don’t eat bacon, but it was great. I guess when you come close to death you perceive things differently.” I know I have You to thank, Lord. You sent someone to rescue me. Now I need help figuring out what’s going on.
“Have you thought about what you’re going to do next?”
She wanted to say hide, but where would she be safe? “Any suggestions besides going to the police in Sweetwater City?”
He opened his mouth to answer, but before he could, Shep jumped to his feet, a low growl emitting from between his bared teeth.
Chapter Two
Luke quickly grabbed his rifle and put himself between Megan and the area where Shep centered his attention. Through the foliage, he spied the culprit. “It’s a medium-sized black bear. He must have gotten a whiff of the bacon.”
Megan stood up. “What should I do?”
“At the moment, nothing. My car is about five hundred yards away. Too far to make a dash for it. Shep, speak.”
His dog’s fierce snarl turned to barking.
Hunted Page 1
