by Jack Parker
They decided which directions they would forge out in, coordinated their times, and left the white Jetta behind to search for Max and Esther. Roden headed towards the area to the left of the car, while Martin took the right, and Manda begrudgingly began walking down the dirt road in which the Jetta was pointed.
Roden studied every inch of ground that he could, trying to catch everything and still manage to move quickly so that he could cover a lot of area. The terrain was so rough, that it was hard to maneuver through, let alone discover evidence of any previous traversing.
The guilt of forcing Manda to reluctantly scout the woods on her own ended up distracting Roden's progress. As much as he disliked her company, he hated to push her into this frightening but necessary seclusion, even for the benefit of their search. For her sake, and for the sake of his own sanity, he hoped that one of them would find at least one new clue, if not the actual location of Max's hiding place. Otherwise, they'd have to go back to their original plan, which meant continuing on to the remaining cabins and using the process of elimination.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
The conversation between Max and Ess casually moved onward, and dialog between them became not unlike two old friends who were catching up after years of leading separate lives. The effect of the amity made Max extremely blissful and left Ess a little befuddled.
Max wished, and not for the first time in the past twenty-four hours, that he had a sketchpad. He was now able to observe Ess like he never could before. Her movements and expressions were beyond anything his imagination had been able to conjure up over the years. He noticed that when Ess became animated in conversation, her delightful eyes narrowed slightly, her brilliant cheeks emitted a warm glow and her plush lips curled up at the sides slightly higher than when she simply smiled. Quite exquisite. He wanted to capture it so he could have it to keep forever.
Ess was fully aware that she shouldn't feel so at ease with this man, and she tried not to; but he exuded this unexpected sort of consoling quality that made her slowly drop her guard, despite her best efforts. Sure he was a stranger and he held her in seclusion in the middle of nowhere against her will, but he pulled it off so well that she let herself forget that this was an impromptu camping trip.
In fact, she found his character quite unimposing, and his conversation quite intelligent. If they had met in a bar or café, she probably would have been immensely attracted to him. If the circumstances had been different, she knew that she would have been very happy to be acquainted with him. She didn't find him to be all that physically striking at first, to be honest, but his easy exchange and sincere attention made him absolutely charming.
Their conversation took it's natural turns and shifts, and eventually progressed to the topic of coincidences. The subject had a simple beginning in that it played much importance in the progress of stories, both true and fiction. Max observed, and Ess gladly latched on to the suggestion, that without coincidental meetings and incidences, there could be no plots, no chains of events, no happy endings or just desserts. Without coincidences there would be no stories, no remarkable experiences in peoples lives. Life would simply be methodical, and purposeless.
"Yes, you're right," Ess agreed enthusiastically, "The greatest stories ever written are full of coincidences. Ah, let me see, like: Romeo and Juliet. Romeo is pining away like a sissy over some girl when he happens to run into the daughter of his family's enemy and falls in love with her; then, the day he and Juliet plan to run off together, he runs into her cousin and unintentionally kills him. That just accelerates the events that ultimately lead to the death of the two lovers. Tragic. But full of coincidences."
It was a long speech for Ess, and she found that her brain was moving faster than her mouth. Occasionally she stumbled over her words, but she just kept going. It felt so good to be listened to.
"Then, of course, there's Pride and Prejudice, again – I have to bring up the coincidences in that story: Elizabeth Bennett visits her best friend at Rosings Park at the same time Mr. Darcy is visiting his aunt, which leads to his botched up first proposal. Then, Lizzy happens to show up for a tour at Pemberly the same day Darcy returns to his home, and they're thrown back together. The events eventually lead him to save her family's honor and finally gain her hand in marriage."
Max was more than willing to supply his own examples, too, and found Ess equally willing to listen as she was to speak. "Charles Dickens was a great user of coincidences in his stories, too. Oliver Twist ended up getting caught robbing the house of some people that had known his mother; oh, and Nicholas Nickelby ended up saving poor abused Smike from a third rate boarding school, and found out later that they were actually cousins. Then, of course, you can't forget A Tale of Two Cities. Charles Darnay and Syndey . . . oh, what was his name? Carton, yes, thank you. They happened to look so much alike that they could pass for twins, and they both loved the same woman. So, in the end, Sydney was able to sacrifice himself to save Charles's life and make Lucie Darnay happy. Lots of coincidences."
"Wow." Ess was unbelievably impressed by Max's knowledge of Dickens. "And it's so true in real life, too. Like getting on that plane – "
". . . Or off. . . " Max offered up.
". . . Or taking the road less traveled. . ."
". . . Or overhearing a conversation in a restaurant," Max supplied without missing a beat.
"Right." Ess fumbled at that offering, but continued, blushing, "They all stop or start or change a person's story, for better or for worse." She was very aware of the coincidence that led them to where they were now: her anecdote in the restaurant. She was apt to think that that pivotal moment changed her life for the worse. It was not an unreasonable conclusion, only, she was still hoping for a happy ending. The thought made her shiver through her blanket.
Max noticed this, and quickly handed his own blanket to her. She tried to refuse, but Max insisted that he was getting too warm anyway. This was a chivalrous fib, but Ess accepted the blanket, while Max stoked the fire.
"I'm in the mood for more coffee. How about you?" Max smiled graciously, and Ess couldn't help but smile back and nod. More coffee would be perfect.
As he refilled the kettle, he continued their conversation over his shoulder. He had her talking, he had her comfortable, and he would do anything to keep it going. When the kettle was full, he placed it on the burner and turned away from the stove to comment on Ess's latest statement regarding the consequences of events in Alexander Dumas's The Count of Monte Cristo. That was when he saw part of a face disappearing from the window by the door.
Max's heart thudded in his chest. They were being spied on. He didn't know if it was some strange 'Peeping Tom' in the middle of the preserve, or if they had been discovered, but he knew he had to react. Ideas sped through his head. How could he confront the situation without worrying or endangering Ess?
"I think I should get a little more firewood." Max headed for the door, grabbing the poker from the fireplace before he went.
This sudden decision to end their conversation and leave the cabin bewildered Ess. Not only was there more than sufficient firewood stacked along the wall, but what use could a poker be in collecting extra?
Max opened the door only just enough to let himself squeeze through, while remaining as nonchalant about it as he could. This move did not give him the opportunity he would have liked to check his surroundings before exposing himself, and before he could shut the door behind him, he was thrust back inside by whomever it was that he was attempting to confront. He crashed to the floor, hitting his head on the thick rough leg of the wooden table as he went down. That was the second blow to his head in the last sixteen hours, and it was really going to start throbbing soon.
Ess let out an abrupt scream of surprise when the intruder entered, and sunk back into the stiff couch as much as she could. She saw Max hit the floor, and her fear took her once again. She had been shocked and frightened so much lately that her body was no longer cooperating with her he
ad. Instead of fleeing like she wanted to, she was frozen in panic.
Max struggled to get back up, but before he could strike back at the intruder, the man had a gun drawn on him. Upon seeing this, Max had wits enough to freeze. It took a moment for the situation to register, but he suddenly recognized the figure in front of him.
"Oh, shit," was all Max could exclaim at that instant.
"Max," The man spoke. "You are a hard man to find. We've been looking for you all night." He glanced over at Ess, who was still panic-stricken on the couch. Her eyes were on the gun. "I believe you have something that doesn't belong to you."
Max looked at Ess. The expression on her face showed her confusion and annoyance. She didn't understand what was going on, and she struggled to conclude if this stranger was a good guy or a bad guy.
"She doesn't belong to anyone." Max answered. His disgust was obvious in his tone. Ess was being spoken of as though she was an object. With this realization, the gravity of the situation struck her. This intruder was not here to save her. He must be Angoli or one of his henchmen.
Max took a step closer. His goal was to remove the gun from the situation. Then, the advantage would be gone and he would be able to attack his enemy on equal terms. The man saw the intensity with which Max eyed the gun, and noticed that Max was poised to strike. He wasn't about to give him that advantage, though. He raised the gun from Max's chest to his head and cocked the trigger.
Ess inhaled sharply in her fright. The man glanced over at her, distracted for only a moment, but Max reacted quickly. Grasping the opportunity to assail, he bounded and lashed out towards the gun, hoping to knock it out of its possessor's hand. The gun was removed from its target, but the man did not drop it. He accidentally pulled the trigger, and the bullet grazed the wall above Ess's head. This resulted in a scream from the woman as she finally recovered her senses enough to leap away from the couch.
Max's anger elevated at the close call. He lowered his head, and charged the man, knocking him back against the wall. The man was surprised by this force and was unable to prevent Max from wrapping his hands around his neck. Regaining himself enough to drop the gun, the man attempted to pry Max's hands from his throat, but was astonished to find that Max's strength seemed nearly inhuman.
Ess ran for the door in an attempt to escape. While the man continued his struggle for breath, he managed to flail his foot outwards as she ran by him, kicking her in the shin with enough force to trip her. Ess fell hard. Her wrists, which were still sore from trying to catch her previous fall the night before, roared in pain as she landed on them again. She let out a whimper of agony.
The man, satisfied that he slowed her down, looked back into the face of his choker and saw the impossible anger intensify all the more. Max looked like a madman. They both felt the squeeze increase around the intruder's throat, causing a painful coughing reaction. Meanwhile, Max was so intent on wrenching the air from the man's lungs that he left himself open to his enemy's limbs. When the man raised his knee to Max's groin, the effect was immediate. Max's eyes watered and his strength diminished from his hands. A moment later, he was doubled over on the floor in misery.
The man gave himself a moment to catch his breath. The rushing return of blood and oxygen back to his head apparently caused him some momentary dizziness. He came back to himself abruptly when he noticed that Ess had pushed back to her feet and was stumbling out of the doorway. He grabbed her roughly by her injured wrist, and pulled her towards him. "You're not leaving without me, are you?" His question didn't warrant a response, but elicited a scowl from Ess nonetheless.
Her weak attempts to pull away were useless. The man just pulled her closer to him, invading her space completely. She pushed against his chest to no avail.
Forcing her to bend down towards the floor with him, the man quickly repossessed his gun and aimed it at her face. Ess ceased her struggles at that point. Finally, she looked down at Max. He was writhing on the floor, trying to get up, but still unable to overcome his pain.
The man spoke in her ear. The closeness was sickeningly intimate, making her shiver. "Do you have rope?" She didn't reply so he twisted her wrist until she cried out in pain. "Huh?" He shouted in her face. "Do you have rope?"
"I – I don't know." Did Max pack rope? What did this man want it for? She certainly wasn't enthusiastic about being tied up again.
The man tossed her towards the bags that were on the floor by the kitchenette. "Find some." She looked up at him with a glowering glare. He simply pointed his gun at her. "Either you find some rope and tie him up," He shifted his arm to aim the gun at Max. "Or I'll just have to shoot him." With a smile, he explained, "We can't have him following us now."
Ess, afraid of what this lunatic was capable of, dug through the bags for rope. She pulled out a roll of clothesline, not sure what Max's foresight in packing it could have been. When she held it up to the man, hoping it would appease him, he instructed her to tie Max's hands and feet together.
She looked up at him in disbelief. Her eyes were begging, but before she could protest, the man cocked the gun for the next round. Slowly, and regretting what she was about to do, Ess unraveled the line, and began to wrap it around Max's feet. Max stopped his struggles on the floor, and let her do what she had to do. When Ess's eyes met Max's gaze, she lowered them in shame, and hoped that he knew she was doing this in order to keep him alive.
Max wanted to reassure her, but when he whispered, pain was still evident in his voice. "It's okay, Ess. Do what you have to do." When she got to his hands, he noticed that she was making her best attempt at keeping the bindings loose without drawing the attention of the gunman looming over them.
Before she finished, Max whispered again in an lower octave, "Don't let him get you to Angoli's estate if you can, but don't let him hurt you, either." She nodded slightly. "I will come for you. I'll get you out of this." Before Ess could respond, the man pulled her to her feet, and yanked her towards the door, giving Max a rough kick in his side on their way out.
Max exhaled in pain again, and tried to favor his side for a moment before he began to struggle at his restraints. Cursing at his failure to protect Ess just now, he pulled at the clothesline harder and harder. It cut into his skin, but didn't get him anywhere in his escape. After a few minutes, he stopped struggling and began to think logically about the best way to rid himself of his bindings. He knew he couldn't waste any time in getting Ess back.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
After walking for an hour, Roden turned around and made his way back to the car. He would have liked to search further, but he was sure that Manda would panic if he didn't show up at the appointed time. Although it was mid-afternoon, the cool air of the deeply shaded forest crept through his skin and gave him goose bumps. It had been so warm in the city the previous day that his choice of clothing left him unprepared for his current surroundings. His concern for Manda rose with the recollection of her rather unsuitable short skirt and high heels.
Then again, he recalled the last time, back at the gas station, when he tried to extend her some help before they got back in the car. As the temperature had turned uncomfortably cold last night, Roden offered his jacket to her to wear over her light silk top. She just turned to Martin with pursed lips and an eyebrow raised in expectation. It took him a moment, but the young man finally understood what was anticipated of him, and relinquished his own jacket to her instead. Roden just shrugged and ignored her snub towards his proffered aid. That woman was a real antagonizer.
The return took less time than the hike out. As he backtracked, Roden continued to comb the woods, but he didn't manage to turn up any evidence of Max's passing. When he reached the rendezvous point, he was five minutes early. He paced around the car, still searching for clues, and hoping that Martin or Manda had better luck.
When the end of the second hour came and went, Roden began to worry. He had enough problems trying to find his obsessed friend, and now both of his companions were lost? He
scanned the horizon in the directions the others had taken.
Another two minutes went by before he saw movement in the distance. At least Martin must have found his way back. Now they both would likely have to search for Manda before making their next move. He had promised her as much, and he would honor that trust.
It only took him a moment before Roden noticed that something was strange about the approaching movement. Martin or whoever it was, was not heading directly towards the Jetta, but moving almost parallel to it. Roden squinted in an attempt to sharpen his vision through the trees. There was more than one body. Did Martin and Manda manage to run into each other? There was a bend in the road that Manda had taken, so maybe they ended up encountering one another further down the way.
"Hey, over here," Roden yelled and waved his hands, trying to get their attention. Perhaps they didn't see the Jetta. In response, however, a loud boom emanated from a distance. "What the – "
A sharp object impaled a tree nearby. Gunfire? Shit, someone was firing a gun at him. He dunked around the car, away from the line of fire.
This was a preserve. No hunting was allowed here. He quickly deduced that the persons out there must be poachers. They might just be crazy enough to kill a stranger to keep from getting caught. He knew he had to find Manda quickly. She could be in danger, too.
