When Memory Fails

by L C Hayden

  Yet, Sandy was depending on him. He looked at her and flashed an encouraging smile he didn’t feel. She smiled back, weak and timid.

  She must have thought of something, as almost immediately, she straightened up and smiled widely. We can do this, the smile told him.

  Before Daniel could respond, Pablo bent down and grabbed a chunk of Sandy’s hair and pulled it down so that she had no choice but to look at him. “You’re like a big fool if you think you have something to smile about.” He yanked her hair again, and she cried out in pain.

  “Leave her alone.” Daniel did his best to loosen the rope that held his hands behind him.

  Pablo released Sandy’s hair with such a jerk that she bumped her head on the tree she was tied to. Pablo smiled. “Now that’s funny.” He walked the few feet that separated the two hostages and glared at Daniel. “Hey, dude. You know what?”

  Daniel looked at him and remained quiet.

  “I’m like getting real tired of you. Truth is, we don’t really need you. Aunt Bobbi, she told me to ice you if I need to. I’m like feeling that way, you know?”

  Daniel swallowed hard. “Does it matter? You’re going to kill me once I’ve located The Ledger and handed it to you. So go ahead and do it now.”

  “No!” Sandy’s high-pitch wail disturbed the forest’s silence. “You’re wrong. He’s the one who knows everything. But me? I don’t know anything. You need him.”

  “She’s lying. Everything I know, she knows. So go ahead, kill me. I dare you.” Daniel heard Sandy’s whimper but ignored it. “Only thing I ask is don’t do it in front of her. Untie me and I’ll go peacefully with you.”

  Pablo hesitated.

  Daniel dared to sneak a glance at Sandy. She answered his unspoken words with a slight nod of her head. Daniel cast his eyes downward. “Once Sandy knows I’m dead, she’ll be more than willing to cooperate with you, so she can survive this nightmare. But if she sees me die, she’ll keep that image in her mind and won’t care what happens to her. Don’t make that mistake. Take me away from here, away from her eyes.”

  Sandy’s cries broke Daniel’s heart, and he wished he could comfort her.

  This was the only way he knew how, and he prayed to God it would work. “Go ahead and do it before I change my mind.”

  Pablo wet his lips. “You sure, dude, you won’t do anything funny? You’ll come along like peacefully?”

  Daniel nodded. “I want out, and you’re the only one who can provide me with the peace of mind I so desperately need.”

  Pablo approached him and kicked his legs. “You think I’m a fool?” He took his firearm from his holder and set it on top of a flat rock that lay several yards away from Daniel. He picked a large, sturdy branch and swung it. The threatening whoosh sound pleased Pablo. He smiled as he approached Daniel.

  “Way I see it, you’re probably planning on doing something stupid, but if you’re already nearly dead when I untie you, you won’t wanna do nothing ’cuz you won’t have no energy. You’ll have like no strength.” His lips formed a sharkish smile that chilled Daniel’s bones.

  Daniel closed his eyes in anticipation of what was about to come. Behind him, he rubbed the rope against the rough tree’s bark, hoping against hope, that he could set his hands free.

  Pablo approached Daniel, holding the branch as though it was a bat, and he was going to score a homerun.

  Chapter 44

  Bronson and Dog stood in the same spot they had occupied when the Italian stud had chosen to attack Bronson. At that time, Bronson had been intent on searching for the allusive car. Now, it no longer seemed to be that important.

  Instead, he had to address the persistent voice inside his head. A long time ago, he had learned to listen to it by focusing inwardly. Bronson took a deep breath, clearing all thoughts from his mind.

  Search elsewhere.

  Yeah, elsewhere. But where?

  The idea both thrilled him and frightened him. He knew exactly how to access his inner voice. Did this mean his memory had finally decided to release its deep held secrets? Bronson stood perfectly still, focusing on his inner thoughts.

  Nothing new came to him.

  His hands formed fists and he shook them. Why couldn’t he remember? Would it ever come back to him?

  Bronson looked down at his four-legged companion. “Sure wish, Dog, you could talk. I think you know exactly what’s going on.” Bronson bent down and patted the top of her head. “What can you tell me?”

  Dog glanced at the street that stretched before her and then turned her attention to Bronson. She yelped once and with the speed that only a Basenji can obtain, she bolted down the street.

  “Dog! Wait!” Bronson sprinted after the dog and watched as she took a corner and disappeared.

  Bronson continued to chase the dog. Three blocks later, his breath came at short intervals. The stitch as his side forced him to stop. He came to an abrupt stop and breathed hard and through his mouth.

  He could no longer see the dog. He could forget about her or try to find her.

  Search elsewhere.

  Bronson turned and looked at the shack where he had left his attacker. It stood insignificant and unworthy, a ruin that only held crumbling dreams. But not for Bronson. For him, it meant answers. Once he wandered off to the other side of town, he would lose sight of that place. Would it matter?

  Search elsewhere.

  Bronson could probably be gone for an hour, return to that crumbling structure, and still find his assailant unconscious. Yet, should he take that chance?

  Search elsewhere.

  Casting one last look, Bronson turned and hurried down the street.

  Only to abruptly stop.

  A chill started at the nape of his neck and ran down his back and arms. He had been here before. He could feel it. None of the remaining structures to his immediate right and left called him. Yet one of them—one of them…

  Which one?

  Bronson’s insides tightened until they became a hard knot in his gut. He advanced a yard. Two yards. Still nothing.

  Three yards.

  Beside him, time and weather had eaten away at whatever structures had once stood there. Nothing remained. Might as well move on, his inner voice ordered. Bronson planned to but decided to pause long enough to search the ground, his mind constantly categorizing, analyzing, and digesting.

  That diligence got him nowhere.

  He moved on. The shack ahead to his right offered some interesting possibilities. Unlike the other places, this structure had stood to the demands of weather and cruelty of time. Or, could it be that someone was taking care of this place? Who? The stud he had left behind? Why would he do that?

  Bronson’s hand instinctively went to the Desert Eagle he carried tucked inside his waistband. Something about this shack bothered the heck out of Bronson. If only he could put his finger on it. He rushed toward the building and plastered his back against the wall. He snuck a look through the window.

  A couch with a plaid pattern design had seen better days. The stuffing in the center cushion had been guttered and the once white padding lay scattered on the floor. A wooden coffee table had crumbled onto itself. What looked like a discarded blanket lay forgotten on the floor. Pieces of plaster had fallen off the walls, and the once bright wallpaper had faded and rotted.

  Bronson leaned back on the wall. He saw nothing more than a typical setting for a typical house that no longer hosted laughter or love. Why had this cabin intrigued him?

  He shuffled to the next window. The image on the lower pane reached out and grabbed his mind and twisted it, constantly yelling at him. To him, he might as well be staring at the glassy eyes of a corpse. Bronson’s breath was taken away.

  As though his feet had been nailed to the floor, Bronson found he couldn’t move even though his legs were Jell-Oey. He swayed and reached for the wall to keep from falling.

  Plastered to the bottom of the window pane the handprint screamed at Bronson.

  Bits
and pieces of his memory had flashed before him like a bud slowly opening. He strained to focus on the thought that was a distant shadow on the horizon.

  Help me! You said you would help me.

  Bronson massaged his temples, all of his attention focusing on the handprint.

  The handprint. The message.

  I need help.

  The cry didn’t come from anywhere but stemmed from inside his head.

  I’m here for you. I will help you. Don’t be afraid—

  The sounds swelled as an image flashed across Bronson’s mind’s eye. He saw a young girl. Feisty. Pretty. In danger.

  Sandy!

  I promised Daniel I’d keep you safe.

  I will help you.

  Bronson’s breath came in short gasps, and every nerve in his body tingled.

  He was Harry Bronson. Retired detective of the Dallas Police Department. Daniel was his nephew. Sandy, Daniel’s gal. The memories and the images came to Bronson as if he were watching them on a giant screen and for the moment, he was riveted to that spot.

  Then things snapped. He was a man with a purpose.

  Bronson retrieved his wallet. The paper he had thought had been his granddaughter’s drawing now spoke volumes to him. Bronson’s hand shook as he studied the paper. The wavy horizontal lines. That meant water. The heart hovering over the water.

  Someone—who? His memory was still fuzzy—had told him about the river that was the town’s lifeline. The Sechrest Falls’ residents had turned to the water when they wanted to smooth out their problems. Others went to rejoice, relax, and have fun.

  Bottom line was that everyone went to the river because it was—

  It was— Bronson closed his eyes commanding his mind to remember. It was…

  The heart of the land!

  He should have realized this much earlier. Then Daniel and Sandy wouldn’t be in the predicament they were probably in right now. He needed to rescue them. But in which part of the river will he find them? If he remembered correctly, the river meandered all around the hills, stretching from one side of the hills to the other side. How could he narrow down the exact location?

  Bronson studied the crude drawing one more time. Horizontal wavy lines met wavy ones. Water cascaded down to the river. A waterfall.

  Sechrest Falls!

  A town named after its lifeline, the falls. The answer had been staring at him all of this time.

  The same person who had told him about the water— Bronson hit his forehead with his open hand. Think. Think. Who was that person? Why couldn’t he remember? This man—woman?—had also shown him how to reach that sacred place. That’s where he would find Daniel and Sandy.

  Pushing himself beyond his boundaries, Bronson bolted up the hill. He ran as if in a nightmare, his eyes on the obstacles in his path. He dodged the fallen timber, maneuvered himself around the boulders, and climbed over the ones he couldn’t avoid.

  He prayed he would reach them in time.

  Chapter 45

  Muted colors swirled around Daniel as he struggled to open his eyes. There wasn’t an inch of him that didn’t feel wretched. He glanced around until his vision landed on Sandy.

  She remained tied to the tree, quietly sobbing.

  Anguish grabbed Daniel. He understood her sorrow, and the pain he felt ran deeper than the bruises and cuts his body had endured from Pablo’s beating.

  Daniel laid half resting on the tree and half on the ground. He felt as if he’d been thrown into a bottomless pit with no hope of escape. His plan had been to be cut loose so that he could overpower Pablo, but Pablo had made sure that didn’t happen. Daniel wasn’t in any condition to save Sandy. He couldn’t even save himself. His shoulders sagged, and he cast his vision downward. A gut-wrenching growl stemmed from deep within him.

  Sandy hushed and sat up ramrod straight, like a rabbit sensing danger, not moving.

  Pablo strolled toward him and kicked his already bleeding legs. “You’re awake now. Man, it took you like forever. For a moment there, I thought I killed ya, but what’s the fun in that?”

  “You tell me.” Daniel could barely speak.

  “Hey, dude, weren’t you listening? I said it was no fun.” He laughed a long hollow sound that chilled the air. “But you wanna know what will be fun? Me kicking your ass all the way to the place where I’s gonna kill you.”

  “No, please.” Sandy’s tears ran down her cheeks. “Please, don’t take him away from me.” She swallowed a sob. “Please.”

  Pablo shuttled toward Sandy. “Hey, cuz’, don’t go blaming me. I’m gonna do only what he wants. Remember, he asked.” Pablo shrugged. “He begged. Not my fault. I just wanna please him.” He laughed once more that same shrilling sound that sent the birds fluttering. He blew Sandy a kiss and shuffled back to Daniel.

  “You ready, big guy? I’m gonna go behind you now and cut you loose. You ain’t gonna do anything funny, are ya?”

  If only I could. “What if I tell you I changed my mind?”

  “No, no, no. You can’t do that.” Pablo waved his index finger from side to side. “Way I see it, you have like two choices.” He raised one finger. “One, you act nicely. We like walk together to my chosen spot and then bang, you’re dead.” He raised another finger. “Or two, I shoot you here and now, and Sandy will like have front row seat to your death. It don’t matter to me which you choose. Either way, you’re a goner. Which is it going to be?”

  “I’ll go with you.” Maybe he could still overpower him. “But I’m not sure I can walk.”

  “Then you crawl, man, crawl. I don’t give a rat’s ass how you get there. If you want, I can beat you to a pulp until I hear you say you can walk.”

  “I can walk.” He hoped he could walk.

  “As you wish.” Pablo stepped around him, bent down, and cut the ropes that bound his wrists and legs.

  As Daniel felt the slack, he closed his eyes and took deep breaths. I can do this. I can. He ordered his hands to form fists. They barely closed. Raise your arm and pound him with all I have. His arms refused to obey. Maybe if I rest for just a minute…

  A grayness hovered on the periphery of his vision. Daniel closed his eyes, and he gave in to the darkness.

  Chapter 46

  Pablo nudged Daniel’s shoulder. Daniel didn’t move. “Man, the dude is like out again. If he don’t wake up in half-an-hour, I’m going to drag his sorry ass up the hill and kick the living daylights out of him until he begs for mercy. You might even be able to hear all the way down here his pleas to kill him.” He smirked a wide grin that revealed that his mind played out the scene. “Won’t that be a kicker?”

  “Pablo.”

  He looked at Sandy but didn’t answer.

  “I want you to come over here and cut me loose. I need to be with Daniel. This will be our last time together. You can’t deny me that. Think about what Papa Lazzarone would say.”

  Pablo cast his eyes upward as though searching for inside his head. “He’d say, ‘Kill the bastard, but grant Sandy her wish. Family first.’”

  “That’s exactly what he’d say. So cut me loose, now.”

  Pablo hesitated.

  “Papa Lazzarone’s commands must always be obeyed.”

  “Yeah, I know.” Pablo shuffled his feet, kicking the dying grass around him.

  “Pablo.”

  “I heard ya.” He pouted. “I’m gonna cut your rope, and you squirrel to your love but in half-an-hour, I’m gonna—”

  “I know,” Sandy said. “I know.”

  “Then I’m gonna cut those ropes, and if you try anything, I’ll first shoot Daniel, and then I’ll rape you before I kill ya.”

  “Rape me? I’m your cousin.”

  Pablo’s grin widened. “Yeah, I know. I’ve always had this thing for you.”

  Every nerve in Sandy’s body told her he spoke the truth. “You have my word. I will only tend to Daniel.” Her voice broke. “For the last time.” She watched as Pablo went behind her to cut her loose. Soon
as she was free, she wasted no time in hustling to Daniel. With her open palm, she wiped the blood from his face. She kissed his lips and snuggled close to him. She lay with her head resting on his shoulder.

  Pablo stepped away but maintained his gun aimed at them.

  Sandy used her body to cover her arm movement. Her hand worked the ground, searching for the right size stone. Her effort lasted for almost five minutes. She shifted positions so that now she could search a different area.

  This time, she met with success. Daniel’s hand could easily conceal the smooth rock that was big enough to do damage. She stuffed it into his pant pocket. She leaned close to his ear. “Use the rock in your pocket to knock Pablo out. Aim for the temple.” She spoke loud enough only for him to hear. “Please save yourself for me.” She laid her head in his shoulder again.

  Where there was one rock, there was another. She’d find a rock for herself and somehow use it to knock Pablo out. She had no idea if it would work, but she had to try.

  Her fingers became talons, and she dug. She found pebbles, but not the right size rock. She wouldn’t give up. She kept digging, digging, digging until her red and swollen fingers begged her to stop. Sandy refused to obey.

  Instead, she moved the search a bit to her right. This time, almost at the surface, she found one that should work. As soon as he looked away, she’d throw it at him, aiming for the head. She pocketed the rock.

  Pablo headed toward them. “I know he hasn’t come to, but it don’t matter. Time is up.”

  Sandy placed her head close to Daniel’s.

  “I know what you did,” she heard him say. “Save yourself.”

  She kissed his lips. “I love you.”

  “Enough!” Pablo said. “Go back to your tree.”

  Sandy clung to Daniel. She couldn’t allow Pablo to tie her back up. She had that rock. She had to use it now. But how?