by Dale Mayer
He stopped then and waited, looking for anything that would tell him when the attack would come. He wasn’t armed, which was something he planned to change as soon as he could. An odd sound came off to the side. He listened, not sure if this was the second man.
Then came a birdcall.
But it wasn’t his, not one he knew. But it was enough that the second man nearby straightened ever-so-slightly, whispered again under his breath, but it sounded like another swear word, and then backtracked his way out. Killian didn’t know what the hell was going on, but something was, and too many people were involved for him to be comfortable. He waited long enough to be sure that the two men he was aware of were backing out, but he still hadn’t heard a vehicle, and he needed to know that they were done and gone.
He pulled out his phone and quickly sent Hatch a text.
Hatch responded. I disabled the car.
At that, Killian groaned because then he couldn’t hear if they’d left or not. He waited for Hatch to add more, and, when he didn’t, he asked, See anyone?
No sign of anyone. I think they’ve gone.
We need to see them go.
Killian stayed where he was for another twenty minutes, not moving, not doing anything but waiting.
Then he heard a rustle in the brush up ahead, somebody swearing in the darkness, as one of the men got up from his hiding spot and steadily moved out toward the road again. When the man got to the vehicle, the swearing increased, as he tried to start the car. He slammed the doors and fast-walked toward the center of town. And that suited Killian just fine. Checking his phone for the tracker, he noted the other man had headed back toward town as well, at least as far as the disabled car. So either the tracked guy was working in tandem with the kidnapper or he was keeping track of this second kidnapper.
At that, Hatch sent him a message. All clear.
Killian shifted and looked back up at the woman, still hugging the tree. In a low voice he said, “Hi, my name is Killian.”
She looked down at him and whispered, “I’m Stacey.”
“Got yourself in a spot of trouble, I understand.”
“Double trouble actually,” she said, her gaze huge. “After I escaped from the first kidnapping, a man, who should have helped me, kidnapped me instead.”
At that, he stopped and stared. “What?”
She motioned toward the car. “I was on the ferry and slipped out of the back of a vehicle, away from the first kidnappers,” she said. “Then this guy saw me and knocked me out. Instead of helping me, he saw an opportunity to make a buck and held me hostage himself.”
“Nice guy,” he muttered.
She whispered, “Are you alone out here?”
“No,” he said. “I have a partner.”
“Good,” she said. “I don’t know what my kidnapper might do.”
“Well, somebody else is out here. That’s for sure,” he said. “I just don’t know who they are, whose side they are on, and whether they’re working together or if one is after the other.”
“I would be totally okay if the latter was the case,” she said.
“Well, you’re safe now.” He watched as she hesitated and just stared at him. “What?”
“May I see your ID?” she asked, as if grabbing her courage.
He looked at her in approval. “Good thing you asked,” he said. “But it’s hardly something I carry around with me.” But, with inspiration, he held up his pointer finger, typed in Jerricho’s name and number into his phone, and called him. When he answered, Killian said, “I’ve got you on speaker. Jerricho, I have your kidnap victim here, but I don’t have any ID on me to prove who I am.”
Jerricho answered and said, “Stacey, we were sent by your father.”
“It’s easy enough to say that,” she said, her voice tremulous. “I’ve been to hell and back, kidnapped twice now. I am not up for a third time.”
Jerricho said, “Hold on. I’ll patch you through to your dad.”
There was a series of clicks, and she looked down at Killian and asked, “Can he do that?”
“Hell yes,” he said.
Another voice came on the phone, older, almost shaky. “Stacey?”
“Dad,” she cried out.
“Are you okay?” He paused. “I asked these men to help because I don’t have any connections anymore, and they have more than either of us could ever imagine.”
“That’s fine,” she said. “I’m okay. I’m just trying to confirm this guy is who he says he is.”
“Well, I’m not sure which one you’ve got there,” he said, “but Jerricho can give you a description.”
At that, Jerricho’s voice kicked in and said, “Stacey, Killian’s with you. He’s an inch over six feet tall and thirty-four years old. He’s a white Caucasian male, with new blond streaks in his hair, several old injuries, including some scars on the left side of his neck and the back of his hands.”
At that, Killian walked a little closer, his phone flashlight on revealing his neck and raising both hands, so that she saw his scars.
“And he works for the government, the US government?” she asked.
“Yes,” he said. “If you’re in his hands, you’re safe.”
“But he’s talking to somebody else. How do I know he hasn’t been compromised?”
At that term, Killian’s eyebrows shot up.
“He is working with Hatch,” Jerricho said quietly. “He’s another good man. They came to get you.”
“I so want to believe you,” she said, trying now to hold her voice steady. “It’s just been a long and very scary trip.”
“Sweetheart, you’re okay now,” her father said. “Let them help you.”
“I hope you’re right, Dad,” she said. “Because the last asshole kidnapper caught me sneaking away from my initial kidnappers, and, instead of helping me,” she said bitterly, “he snatched me up, knocked me out, and threw me into the trunk of his vehicle, where he tied me up and crammed a gag in my mouth.”
“Jesus,” her father said.
“And he had my ID from my purse, so it’s not like I could hide who I was, but he contacted you, probably realizing that I had some value. Speaking of which, I need my purse from the car.”
“Well, it’s a good thing he did,” her father said. “Because, once I knew what had happened, I could save you.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
Once Killian put away the phone, he looked up at her. “Are you okay?” he asked.
She took a long slow deep breath. “Yes,” she said. “I think I am.”
Reaching up a hand, he said, “Let me help you down.”
She reached down for him, and, as soon as her fingers closed in his, he turned and said, “Just slide down onto my shoulders,” which she did. Then he gently let her all the way down. “Take it easy now,” he said.
“My leg,” she said. “The second kidnapper, he hurt me. He did it on purpose, to keep me from running away. Said it would make me more compliant.”
“The bastard.” Killian faced her. “There are bastards all over this world,” he said, “but not all men are bastards.”
“All bastards aren’t men either,” she said, and she stood straighter, shaky on her one leg.
“Let’s get you back to the hotel, where we can get you cleaned up. Maybe to a hospital too,” he said. “It depends on how bad your leg is and how much medical attention you need.”
“I don’t want to go to a hospital,” she said.
“Why is that?”
“Because he told me that he could find me there.”
At that, Killian stopped and stared. “What? This guy who just had you?”
“Yes,” she said. “So I don’t know if he has access to their computer systems or if he haunts the emergency rooms or if he works there or what. He told me that I was his ticket out.”
“Out of what?”
“I don’t know for certain. From the way he talked, I think he meant his life in this town or something.�
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“That’s interesting,” he said. “Well, I have a tracker on another man who stood on the periphery of all this. So maybe you need to tell me all about the first kidnapping.”
“I will,” she said. “As soon as I can. But, right now, I need some help for my leg.”
He picked her up and carried her carefully toward the path.
“Where are we going?”
“Back to the vehicle,” he said.
“I thought it wouldn’t start?”
“It wouldn’t,” he said. “My partner disabled it, so the guy couldn’t take off with you. Hopefully we can put it back together again and get you to the hotel.” When she hesitated, he looked at her and said, “Do you have something against the hotel too?”
“I hope not,” she said. “I’m just leery of it all.”
“With good reason,” he said. He slowly stepped out onto the road, and there was Hatch, standing at the car. “Does it run?” Killian asked Hatch.
“It starts,” he said, “but something’s not right. I wouldn’t count on it going very far.”
“Dang,” he said. “Her leg is injured. I was hoping we could drive.”
Immediately Hatch raced forward. “We can carry her between us.”
“That wouldn’t be much fun,” she said, gasping as he put her down on her feet.
“Maybe not,” he murmured, “but certainly doable.”
“Is it a long way?” she asked.
“Just a few blocks.” Killian looked at the car and said, “Screw it. Let me see if I can get this back into commission.” He popped open the hood, and, within a few minutes, the engine turned over.
She cried out in joy.
He walked around and carefully helped her into the back seat, nodding at Hatch to drive. “Stacey, I know you probably didn’t get much chance to see this last asshole, but, if you can tell us anything about him, that would help.”
“I didn’t get a chance to see anything,” she said. “He blindfolded me almost immediately.”
“That’s fine. Let’s not worry about it right now. We’ll get you back to town and get that leg looked after.”
As Killian got into the back seat with Stacey, Hatch looked at him. “Hospital?”
“Not if we can help it. The kidnapper told her that he could find her if she went to any hospital.”
“Shit,” he said. “Do you think it was an empty threat?”
“I don’t know. It seems pretty specific. I’m sending in a request for a doctor with discretion, who will make a house call.”
“Oh, good,” he said. “That’s better yet.”
They were quiet on the drive back into town, trying to let her relax a bit. As soon as they got to the hotel, he hopped out, swung her up in his arms, and said, “We’ll take you in the back entrance.”
“Is that okay?” she whispered, her face turning gray.
He looked at her and frowned. “How badly hurt are you?”
“I’m not sure. I didn’t think it was that bad,” she said, “until I started to run through the brush, and then it really was bad. Both times I was kidnapped, I was kept with my legs and hands tied behind my back, and, after a while, everything just went numb.”
“Maybe that was a gift,” he said.
“I think it may have been,” she gasped, as he walked in the back entrance and headed up to his room.
“The adrenaline has probably been keeping the pain at bay to some degree too,” he said.
“Are you sure that a doctor will come?”
“Yes,” he said. “I can guarantee that.”
“How long?”
He paused in front of the door and waited while Hatch opened it. As soon as they stepped inside, he smiled. “How about right now?” he said, motioning to the man standing there, a big medical bag in front of him. Killian looked at the doctor and said, “Let’s get her treated.” He walked over with her and sat her down on the couch, already covered with a blanket.
She looked up at the stranger. “Who are you?”
“A doctor,” he said. “One who will not talk.”
“Good,” she said. “Because somebody in your field is definitely talking. Otherwise there’s no way my kidnapper could know where I was.”
Killian watched the doctor as he quickly checked over her leg. It was very bloody, but most of it was dried. As the doctor cut off one leg of her pants, Killian knew she would need clothes and quickly sent out an order for pants, shoes, T-shirts, and a jacket, for the cold nights.
The doctor had a red swollen mark on the back of his wrist that looked like an old scratch, but it was big enough that it was still angry.
“What’d you do to your wrist?” he asked the doctor.
“Oh this?” he said. “Yeah, a bad scratch, from a dog I tried to help.”
“Doesn’t sound like the dog appreciated it.”
The doctor laughed. “Nope, he sure didn’t. But that’s what happens when you help people sometimes too,” he said, with a gentle smile at Stacey.
She looked even more peaked, as the doctor gently sponged the blood off her legs. “It really, really hurts,” she said, trembling.
Killian walked over and sat down beside her. Grabbing her hand to divert her attention, he said, “I’m sorry.” He looked at the doc. “Do you have anything for the pain?”
He nodded. “Yeah, I do. I just want to make sure that we know what the injuries are first.” With the blood now sponged off, he took one look and winced. “Okay,” he said. “This is worse than I thought.”
Chapter 3
It was all Stacey could do to sit here quietly as the doctor injected a local anesthetic all along the site of the wound. She had a huge gash on her leg. It wasn’t terribly deep, but it was long and angled. So, every time she moved, skin pulled and tore a little bit more. She closed her eyes and squeezed Killian’s fingers as hard as she could, as the doctor now slowly stitched his way through the layers, closing up the wound.
“I would have liked to have seen this in the hospital,” he muttered to Killian.
“Well, if this guy hadn’t said what he did,” Killian murmured back, “we would have taken her there. We can’t take a chance at this point. She’s been kidnapped twice by two different factions, and we don’t know what’s going on. So we can’t risk it a third time.”
The doctor looked up sharply at that and nodded.
She just gave him a half smile, but it was so tinged in pain that more teeth showed than lips. “Are you almost done?” she gasped.
“Just about,” he said in a steady voice. Finally he straightened, looked at it, and nodded. “I want to see these stitches in another ten days,” he said. “And you’re not to do any running, crazy jumping, or being stuffed into the back of any car trunks. Okay?” he said, teasing her.
“I’ll try not to,” she said.
“Now, let me have a look at those wrists.”
As he worked, she relaxed a bit, leaning back ever-so-slightly. Her leg was just this burning appendage, and she didn’t know where the pain started and stopped. Sure, some local anesthesia helped, but it wasn’t doing enough of a job. It hurt, and it was all she could do to stay quiet.
As the doc finished up and stepped to his medical bag, Killian sat up, lifted their clenched hands, and whispered, “If you let me have my hand, I’ll go put on some coffee.”
She stared at him uncomprehendingly.
He lifted their hands again, so she saw.
She winced and slowly disentangled her fingers. “Did I hurt you?”
“Doesn’t matter if you did,” he said in a sincere voice. “You’re doing just fine.”
“It doesn’t feel like it.” She looked at him. “You’re a liar,” she murmured. And then she motioned toward the doctor. “If he has any pain pills …”
At that, Killian stood and walked to speak to the doctor. She only heard part of the conversation but watched as two pill bottles were handed over. And then another. She presumed that last one was an antib
iotic. Killian also had a packet of gauze, bandages, ointment, and something else. She groaned as she thought about the dressing being changed on a regular basis.
As it was, all she wanted to do was take enough pain pills to knock herself out. The trouble was, she knew that all the nightmares from the last few days would continue at a subconscious level, destroying whatever bit of sleep she could possibly get.
At another knock on the door, she froze. Killian didn’t even look at the door, recognizing the distinctive knock, turning in her direction instead, with a smile. “It’s Hatch. He went to get food.”
She stared at him in confusion. “I didn’t even know he left,” she murmured.
“Don’t worry about it because he’s back.” He walked to the door, opened it, and, sure enough, Hatch came in, carrying large bags and a tray. He looked at the doctor and asked, “Did you want to eat too, Doc?”
The doctor smiled, shook his head, and said, “Nope, I’m going home to a good home-cooked meal.”
“Well, we would if we could,” Hatch said, with a smile. He handed off something to the doctor, which she presumed was money to pay for the bill, but she didn’t know.
She nodded at the doctor and said, “Thank you.”
“No thanks needed,” he said. “Guys like us have to be out there to stop things like this from happening.” He waved an arm in her direction, while reloading his medical bag, then stopped. He looked at her in concern and said, “Be sure to take all the antibiotics until they are gone. And no more than two pain pills every four hours. If you need more during the night,” he said, “I’ve given Killian a second painkiller that you can take, of a different kind. I don’t want you to overdose because you are hurting.”
“Oh, it’s definitely hurting,” she gasped.
“I know, and I’m sorry,” he said. “I did give you a pain shot not very long ago, although you probably didn’t even notice.”
