Extreme Exposure

by Mae Argilan

  "Yes, Sir."

  Glenn saw Sadie pull the gun from a hip holster, and she raised her camera to her heart.

  "I don’t have time for this," Sadie said. "If I wanted to kill you I could have shot you in the car. Or, had my partner do it. Okay, now I’mtelling you. I’m reuniting you with your buddy whether you like it or not. Come on people, let’s go."

  Glenn wanted to look at Geoff, but she was afraid to take her eyes off the gun. Sadie used it as a shepherd’s rod to guide her little lambs where she wanted them to go. And, she wanted them to cross the road, and go into the woods. Glenn was first, then Geoff, with Agent Cozzoli hiking single file behind them over wet leaves and granite that shrugged up through the trail. Glenn had her eyes down to avoid tripping over rocks and roots. Pine limbs jutted out and slapped her, and then she came into a clearing. Geoff came up behind her.

  "Now I know where we are," he said. "Camp Misty Mount. I spent a week here with my fifth grade class. See the cabin? There are two more like it over there."

  Glenn turned to Sadie. "Where’s Shane?"

  "Right in the first cabin."

  "And, I’ll find Shane and Dave?"

  "That’s right. Just a few steps more, and we’ll all get what we want. I’ll be finished baby sitting, and you’ll be reunited with your friends."

  There was something about the tone in her voice that gave Glenn chills. Or, maybe it was the clamminess of her rain-soaked overcoat. Geoff went to the doorway of the wooden A-frame, but Glenn couldn’t make herself go any further, not even with a gun in her back. She turned, and looked at Sadie.

  "He’s not in there, is he?"

  Just then, Geoff shouted, "Glenn, I see him. He’s inside."

  "I still don’t believe you," Glenn said.

  "You believe your boyfriend, don’t you?"

  "I don’t believe anybody."

  Sadie chuckled, and gestured with the gun. "Go on, see for yourself."

  Glenn climbed the roughhewn steps as if ascending a gallows, and entered the dark interior of the cottage. Geoff was silhouetted against a far window, motioning to her.

  "He’s asleep."

  Geoff circled to the other side of the bed. A man lay on the top bunk, facing away from them. Geoff leaned toward him.

  "Oh."

  "What? What’s wrong?"

  "It’s Dave." Geoff frowned at Glenn across the bed. "He seems to be breathing. I don’t know."

  Until that second Glenn had harbored a small hope that Shane was there. It had given her courage. Now that glimmer was extinguished, and she knew who was to blame.

  "Liar!"

  Glenn whirled around. The door slammed shut with the finality of a coffin lid. Glenn ran to it, and jiggled the handle. She hurled herself against it, but it held fast. Geoff ran up behind her, and threw his weight against it.

  Caught, like a bug in a bottle.

  Glenn ran to a window. Sadie turned, and faced the cabin.

  Like a bug in a bottle.

  Glenn pounded on the glass. Sadie raised something in her hand. She aimed it, and thumbed a button, like she was changing a channel.

  Like a remote control.

  There was a popping sound on the far wall, and a hiss. Remote control? Geoff and Glenn saw it at the same time. A stream of white smoke snaked through an electrical outlet, followed by a tongue of blue flame. Its flickering orange tail wriggled up the wall, and fanned out along the corner of the ceiling going in two directions. The rafters were the next to go, spouting smoke into the peak. It was high enough that Geoff and Glenn would have a few minutes to regret their gullibility before the fumes choked them to death. Glenn pulled on the window sash.

  "Nailed shut," she yelled to Geoff.

  She pounded on the glass again. She could still see Sadie. There was no emotion on her face. She might have been standing at a railroad crossing watching a train rumble by. Her stunning lack of interest made Glenn nauseous. She grabbed her camera by the neck strap, and took a stance like a discus thrower.

  "Wait," Geoff said. "Oxygen is going to accelerate this baby. You put a hole in the glass, you better be prepared to jump right out afterward."

  "That’s what I had in mind."

  "This window. We can take Dave with us." Geoff took a pillow made of mattress ticking, and held it in front of them. "Go ahead. Smash hell out of it."

  Glenn whirled the camera like an Old Testament slingshot. It briefly crossed her mind as it took flight that she ought to have held onto the strap in case she needed to use it again. But, it was too late. It punched through the glass, leaving a lacy spider web pattern radiating out from the opening. Geoff stuffed the pillow into it, forcing the pane, and the wooden mullions to splinter. The fire roared with new vigor. The smoke stopped playing it coy in the rafters, and swooped downward. Geoff pulled the bunk close to the window, and Glenn helped him roll Dave out of the bed and through the hole. Then, Geoff supported her as she crept outside.

  "Careful you don’t cut yourself."

  It was silly, after facing fire and bullets, to be afraid of a little broken glass. She decided to tell him so as soon as he joined her on the other side. But, as he pushed through to the outside and straightened up, Geoff’s eyes widened.

  "Look out!"

  Geoff swept her aside with both arms. She stumbled over Dave, and fell into a wispy bed of ferns. Looking up, she saw a rock hit Geoff in the middle of the chest with such force that he sprawled backward on the ground. A man stepped from behind a hoary fir tree. It was the man with the gun. He bent over Geoff, and picked up the rock again.

  "No!" Glenn yelled, struggling to her feet.

  Geoff’s arm covered his face as the man lifted the rock over his head. Glenn slid around in the mud fighting with a rotting branch that got under her heel. She couldn’t fight the law of gravity. So, she went with it. As her feet gave way she aimed her fall in the direction of the man. She collided with the backs of his knees, and toppled him onto Dave. The rock fell to the ground, missing Dave’s face by an inch. Glenn got to her feet, and stood over Geoff.

  "Come on, you son of a bitch!" She waved the gunman toward her. "You’re gonna have to go through me."

  It was like poking a sleeping grizzly bear with a stick. Not only was he all claws and teeth, now he was angry. Before, he just wanted to kill her, now he was determined to torture her. He sprang at Glenn, who had no hope of fending him off. He wadded the front of her shirt, and pinned her against the trunk of the fir tree, pushing so hard she couldn’t breathe. She raised her eyes to the sky, and waited for her chest to implode.

  In an instant, she flashed back to that night in front of Shane’s townhouse. The attacker, who had grabbed her then, had the same huge hands and ferocious grip. It had been too dark to see his face, but there was no doubt about it, no doubt at all. This was the same man. Raw fear cut through her like a knife. With renewed strength, she kicked at him.

  He tossed her down like a rag doll. She landed, jarring her skull. Before she could recover, he was on top of her, and tugged on her shirt. She thought he was going to smash her head against the rocks. Then, she felt cold air on her skin, and her senses returned.

  "Come through ya?" he snarled, saliva spraying her face. "You couldn’t lie down, and die like a good girl, could ya? I’ll come through ya, and you’re gonna wish you was dead."

  Glenn always thought she was too smart, to let such a thing happen. Now that it was happening, all she wanted to do was to close her eyes, and disappear to a safe place inside her head. And, then what? And then, he was going to kill her. No, this would kill her. After that he would be shoveling dirt on her lifeless remains. She wouldn’t want to live if she allowed this to happen.

  Allowed? As if you have a choice. You always have a choice.

  "Help me!" she cried.

  With her legs and arms pinned, all she could move was her mouth, so that’s what she did.

  "Shut up," he said, shaking her.

  She sucked in another lung full of air.
"Somebody help!"

  "Who d’ ya think’s gonna hear ya?"

  He put his hand over her mouth. At least she’d keep that hand preoccupied. Whatever she did, she was not going to make it easy. He hauled back, and slapped her. Her ears rang, and she thought her head was going to roll off. Then, he dragged her to her feet. He cocked his arm back again. She clenched her teeth, and braced herself for the explosion. Suddenly, he released her, and fell backward. Glenn stared at Sadie Cozzoli as she stepped forward, clutching what looked like a pair of hair clippers. Glenn looked for Geoff, but there was no sign of him. Sadie glanced down at the man.

  "Men can be such beasts. I gave strict orders you weren’t to be hurt."

  She put out her hand. Glenn jerked away from it. The cabin creaked, and gurgled, as smoke poured from the eaves, and curled into the treetops. In the instant it took Glenn to glance at it, Sadie closed in, twisting Glenn’s arm behind her back. Intense pain puckered her shoulder. Sadie’s face was so close Glenn could smell her hair. It had a faint musky scent.

  "I’m truly sorry about this," she purred, in Glenn’s ear. "I wish it didn’t have to be this way. I’ll be gentle."

  Sadie put her cheek against Glenn’s, and placed a soft kiss on her throbbing jaw where she’d been pummeled. Glenn gaped over her shoulder. The hair clippers came toward her. There were sparks at the edges, like the blue fire of a bug zapper. Glenn realized what it was, and began to writhe.

  "Hush," Sadie said. "Don’t fight, and it’ll be painless."

  She kissed Glenn once more with vampire ferocity. Repulsed, Glenn felt the moist sucking sensation on her neck. Then, it came to her with brilliant clarity.

  Lubrication!

  The word sliced into Glenn’s mind, as Sadie zapped her in the same spot where her lips had been. There was the stinging wasp bite, and Glenn felt as if ants were crawling over her body. The last thing she heard was Sadie’s pronouncement.

  "Nobody gets out of here alive."

  Glenn’s eyes went blind, her tingling limbs went numb, and she was cradled to the ground, wrapped in the intoxicating aroma of musk. When she came to, a smoldering stench stung her nostrils and lungs. She gagged, hiccuped, and sat up in a cloud of sour smoke. The acrid air was like sandpaper in her eyes and throat. She tried to fan it away, but it clung to her skin. She began to crawl, when a shock wave of heat made her change paths.

  From somewhere came a dim recollection of a fire, a flame that ignited a wall and engulfed a wooden A-frame. She remembered Geoff trying to un-jam the door. Where was he now? The window. Using her face as a compass, Glenn felt the heat radiating from north, making the window west of her. She changed direction. As far as she knew the window was on fire, but since that was the last place she saw Geoff that was where she had to start. Glenn had advanced five feet when she fell over someone. She felt for the head, and found its hair. She put her face next to him, and breathed into his ear.

  "Geoff?"

  The floorboard beside his shoulder was on fire. She tried to move him, but he was too heavy. If she was lucky, she could drag him to the window, but she’d never be able to lift him out. If she couldn’t go over, or around, that left only one choice: through. She’d get him out if she had to claw a tunnel through the three-inch timbers.

  Glenn tipped him onto his side, and flopped him over. They hadn’t traveled far when she ran into the bunk bed. She pulled it away from the window. If only she had enough time. She crawled under the bottom bunk, used her feet as a fulcrum, and lifted the bedspring over the side, and onto the floor. She wriggled out, and positioned one end of the mattress support on the window ledge. She grabbed Geoff under his armpits, and lifted him onto the mattress. She pulled him up as far as possible, then bent over, and grasped the iron spring that still rested on the floor.

  Bend with your legs, not with your back. Everything is physics. Leverage and physics. Everyone gets out of here alive.

  She visualized a weightlifter, and clean-and-jerked the end of the bedspring, pushing it over the windowsill. When it landed at an angle on the other side, Geoff slid headfirst off the homemade ramp. She threw herself down the mattress after him, and dragged him into the woods. The cool dampness felt like balm against her scorched skin as she lay on the wet leaves. Geoff had not made a sound, and she wondered if she’d rescued a dead man. No, he couldn’t be dead. She’d seen dead men, and he did not look dead. There was color in his cheeks.

  Of course his cheeks were rosy. He’s got second-degree burns, you idiot.

  She lifted his head into her lap, smoothed his hair back from his forehead, and called to him. His eyelids fluttered. She kept crooning his name. His lips moved as if he was trying to form words. He sputtered, and began to cough. She helped him sit up.

  Geoff said the last thing he remembered was attempting to come to Glenn’s rescue when Sadie grabbed him from behind, and stung him with something.

  "A taser," Glenn said.

  She told him her story. While she was telling it, it didn’t seem like it had happened to her. It was a distant event removed from her experience.

  "I don’t know what happened to Dave," she said.

  "After we got him outside?"

  "The two of us wound up back inside. I don’t suppose he was spared."

  "Did you see him in there?"

  "I couldn’t see anything. I only found you because I fell over you."

  Geoff coughed, and cleared his throat. "I guess the plan was to get us all inside, and burn us beyond recognition."

  "That’s why she didn’t shoot us. Bullet fragments."

  "We should do something about Dave. I’m going back for him."

  She looked in his eyes, and saw the determination there.

  "Take my coat. Put it over your head."

  The front door had a wedge of wood shoved under it, and he kicked it away. When he opened the door, black billows stampeded over him. She could hear the building’s bones cracking. Geoff tented himself under her coat, and pushed inside holding his arms in front of him. Glenn heard a crash, and yelled his name into the open door. All that came back was the groan of the cabin as it melted away. Then, the rain started again, harder than before. She raised her voice, and bawled.

  "Geoff!"

  23

  "Fifteen North to Gettysburg. Then what, Chief?"

  Justin Knight folded his map along the crease, and ran his eye north and east. "As the crow flies, that’s about as close as we get. How fast are you going?"

  "Seventy."

  "I think eighty would be better." Justin looked at Agent Russell. "You don’t mind driving fast, do you?"

  "No, Sir. This is the kind of car you love to drive fast."

  "Because of the government license plate?"

  "Because of the smooth ride. I swear, it’s like piloting a boat on the Chesapeake. Of course, having G2 tags doesn’t hurt."

  "You have a boat?"

  "Naw, Sir, not me. Can’t afford it. But, I have a friend who’s got a cabin cruiser. He keeps it down the road, toward Annapolis. At that cove, oh, you know. What’s the name?"

  "Sandy Point?"

  "No, further down the shore. Past the Severn River. I go out with him sometimes. Do some fishing, unwind."

  "Ever do any crabbing?" Justin asked.

  "My dad’s got a rowboat that we put in down at Wye Mill. Perfect for crab pots."

  "I prefer hand-lining, myself. I enjoy the precision of it. You have to be real cagey to outsmart a crab. Reel him in, hand over hand, and net him before he knows you’ve got him."

  "Yeah." Russell drove a minute in silence. "You trying to distract me?"

  "If you dwell too much on what might be in store, you can get all knotted up, and unable to function. You’ll be fine, Russell. I’ve seen a lot of rookies, and you’ve got what it takes."

  "Permission to speak freely? I’ll bet you say that to all the boys. It’s another one of your relaxation techniques, isn’t it, Sir?"

  Justin laughed. "Can’t put anythin
g over on you."

  "You build up a guy’s confidence, and he does a better job, huh?"

  "I prefer a building up to a dressing down. I reserve my ‘fear-throwing’ for the bad guys."

  Russell flipped on the windshield wipers. "Eighty-five all right with you, Sir?"

  Justin lifted the phone, and dialed a number. "Bad guys don’t stand a chance against you."

  "Understood," Russell said. "When we get there, you aren’t going into the field yourself, are you? Fieldwork is for operatives like me. You shouldn’t even be out here. You should be back in the office, running things."

  "Believe it or not, I can do both." Justin tried an alternate number. Then, a third. Finally, he heard the voice of his high school friend.

  "Ag-Rotor. If you’ve got a pest, you’ve called the best. Wayne speaking."

  "That’s the worst slogan I’ve ever heard for a crop duster," Justin said.

  "Who is this?"

  "Look at you, pretending you don’t know me. After all I’ve done for you. Bailing you out of jail."

  "Oh, my God, it’s the fuzz. What do you want, J?"

  "I was going to offer you a lucrative government contract, but after that, I’ll take my business elsewhere."

  "What’s up? Trouble?"

  "With a capital T. You haven’t had your aviator’s license revoked, have you?"

  "Hey, if you’re buying, I’m flying," Wayne said.

  "Nowthat’s a slogan. I’m ten minutes from your airfield."

  "Where are we going?"

  "Remember where we buzzed those cows on spring break during senior year," Justin said.

  Wayne wheezed. "Oowee, did those critters run. But buddy, have you looked out your window lately? It’s dark, and it’s damp."

  "Which is why I need your special skills."

  Wayne chuckled. "If I recall, you’re kind of a squeamish flier."

  "I’ll try not to scream like a woman."

  "This time." Wayne laughed again. "See you in ten."

  Russell said, "Sir, did you hear that? On the police band. A three alarm fire. Right in that neck of the woods."

  "Step on it. Can’t get to that chopper soon enough."