Savaged

by Mia Sheridan

  His grandfather massaged his chest as though it pained him there, his face scrunching. “I thought he’d turned you into a . . . beast. Only”—he let out a laugh that sounded like someone was strangling him from the inside—“I’m the beast. We’re the animals.” He raised his arm and waved it around the house. “And I surrounded myself with them, casting off my own blood. You deserved . . . a life. Better than what . . . I only wish. Oh God, I wish—”

  He clutched his chest again and a loud moan came up his throat. His face went white and screwed up as he pitched forward. “Get help . . . Jak.”

  Jak caught him, going down to the floor, holding his grandfather in his arms. His grandfather looked up at him, his face a grimace. But a pained smile turned up the corners of his lips as he reached up and ran his hand down Jak’s cheek, before his arm fell to the floor. “You’re the best of us . . .” he whispered, his voice fading away as his eyes closed.

  Jak laid his grandfather down gently and went for help.

  CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

  Harper smiled as the door swung open, laughing when Rylee pulled her inside. “Get in here immediately.” She practically pulled Harper into the living room, pushing her down on the loveseat. “Stay there,” she demanded as she fast-walked out of the room. Harper took off her jacket, laying it on the edge of the couch and setting the bag with Rylee’s belated Christmas gift down next to her, as Rylee came back in, a wine bottle in one hand, two glasses in the other.

  Harper chuckled. “Isn’t it a little too early to drink?”

  “Um, no. Not when I haven’t seen my friend in weeks and every time I hear from her, with a two-line text, mind you, her life has exploded again.”

  Exploded.

  Not an exaggeration. Harper still felt shell-shocked.

  “I’m sorry, Ry. You’re right. So much has been happening, I’ve just been trying to keep up.” And she’d been singularly focused on Jak and falling head over heels in love with him, she could admit that too.

  She gave Rylee an apologetic look. “And I’m not going to be able to stay too long. Jak is with Agent Gallagher, but I told him I’d be waiting when he gets back.”

  “That’s okay. I’ll take what I can get.” Rylee winked at her and poured them each a glass of wine and handed one to Harper. Harper took it, taking a sip and then letting out a deep breath.

  Rylee had taken a sip of her own wine and now was looking at Harper over the rim of her glass. “You’re in love.”

  She smiled, sitting back. “I am. Ridiculously in love, Ry.” And despite the recent upheaval, she felt at peace inside, for the first time in what felt like forever.

  Rylee smiled, looking like she might be about to cry. “I’m so happy,” she whispered. “And I want to meet him immediately.”

  Harper grinned. “You will. He’s coming to live with me.” She held up a hand when Rylee opened her mouth to ask if she thought that was a good idea, Harper could tell. “I know it’s sudden. But . . . it’s right. Jak needs to figure out his own life, and he knows that. But we’re going to do it together. It feels right.”

  Rylee watched her for a second and then smiled. “It must, because I’ve never seen such peace in your eyes.”

  Harper grinned, taking another sip of wine. “There are still some loose ends as far as what exactly happened to Jak,” she said. “But, those questions will be answered eventually, or they won’t. Either way, he’s good. He’s the strongest man I’ve ever known.”

  Live! The words he’d said to her on the side of that cliff a lifetime ago rang through her head as they’d done before—down deep in her subconscious, and floating to the surface now and again, the rallying cry not to give up. And she hadn’t. Because of him.

  Then she told her friend what Agent Gallagher had discovered, what she and Jak had discovered after he’d disappeared into the woods, back to the one place that still felt like home to him, though she vowed she would change that. She would be his home. From that day forward. And he would be hers.

  Rylee sat, mouth gaping. “Do the police think Driscoll killed your parents too? So that he could kidnap you and make you part of his study?”

  Harper frowned. “They don’t know. And I might never know. But yes, it’s the best theory as of now.”

  “Good lord,” Rylee said. “I can’t believe something that demented was going on right here in Helena Springs.”

  “I know. I’m still trying to wrap my head around it all.” And that would likely take a while. But she was a survivor. She always would be. Was there any reason to know the why and how about her parents? About why she had been chosen? Not really. It wouldn’t bring them back. It wouldn’t change the outcome of their lives. I lived.

  And Jak was the greatest survivor of all time as far as she was concerned. Her hero. Her love. Her forever mate.

  “So what happens from here?”

  “Agent Gallagher is still working the case, trying to figure out who killed Driscoll. And he’s trying to identify the bodies found on Driscoll’s property.” A shiver went through her—how close she’d come to being nothing but remains on Driscoll’s land. A red X on his hand-drawn map. She took a deep breath. “But while that unfolds, I’m going to be taking some psychology courses in Missoula. I want to understand why people do the things they do.” She wanted to work in the criminal justice field someday, helping agents like Mark Gallagher out on cases. Everything that had unfolded had been terrible and tragic and mind-boggling, but seeing the case being worked from up close had inspired her to do the same type of work. And she knew she’d have an advocate in Agent Gallagher.

  In the meantime, she and Jak would run her guide business. To say he’d be a natural, was an understatement. Who knew the wilderness better than he did?

  Harper and Rylee talked for another half hour, exchanging Christmas gifts, laughing, and reminiscing, and when Harper got up to hug her goodbye, she felt even fuller. Being in love was a wonderful miracle, but having a community surrounding her and Jak would enrich life for both of them.

  Harper smiled to herself as she walked down Rylee’s steps, turning into the covered parking area, eager to get home and wait for Jak’s arrival. Just as she was removing her key from her purse, she sensed movement behind her, turning halfway as someone grabbed her from behind. She opened her mouth to scream, inhaling a big breath of something sweet and noxious as a hand went over her mouth. Terror spiked through her. She tried to lift her arm, to hit, to flail, but her body was too heavy. The world wavered, faded. Blinked out.

  **********

  She couldn’t see. She could barely hear. Her head roared and it was several minutes before she realized it wasn’t coming from inside her own mind, but rather, it was outside, somewhere beyond the darkness. She listened, her brain clearing, memory returning piece by piece. Water. It’s water.

  She’d been leaving Rylee’s house. Someone had come up behind her. Taken her. Her heart raced, the brain fog clearing.

  Whatever had been covering her head was removed suddenly, and she let out a short yelp, the sudden light blinding her. She opened her eyes, the smell of nature meeting her nose—trees, and dirt, and rushing water.

  I’ve been here before.

  She was standing on a cliff, a river flowing next to her, spilling into what she immediately recognized as Amity Falls.

  “Beautiful up here, isn’t it?”

  She whirled around so quickly, she almost stumbled over her own feet.

  A large, tall man with graying streaks in his mostly black hair stood in front of her, smiling casually. Next to him was an equally tall young man with bronzed skin and dark eyes, his expression blank. “My favorite place in all of this godforsaken wilderness.” The older man smiled. “I’m Dr. Swift, by the way.” He walked toward her, but not too close. She gaped at him, her mind searching frantically to put this into context. What is happening?

  “This whole thing started out with a ceremony, albeit an interrupted ceremony, and . . . it’ll end with one.” H
e smiled. “Of sorts. Though not in the same location, exactly. Isaac picked the first one. But he’s not here anymore to choose anything, is he?”

  “Isaac?” she murmured. Isaac Driscoll chose the first location. The first ceremony? The first time she’d stood on a cliff like this. With Jak. And two other unnamed boys.

  Hazy pictures filled her mind, things she’d always thought were dreams, or nightmares, or bits and pieces of her fighting her way through the wilderness . . . the voices of the hikers who found her maybe . . . her fear, the cold. It’d all swirled together in her child’s mind, creating confusion and too much that was unknown or out of context for the adult Harper to begin to understand.

  His voice though. She remembered his voice. It drummed through her, triggering her brain to connect bits of memory, creating context.

  “You,” she said. “It was you. That night.” She shook her head. He’d taken her . . . shot her parents? “Why?” she asked. “Why me? Why my family? What did you do to them?”

  He let out a long-suffering sigh as though the whole ordeal was so terribly taxing. For the first time since Harper had opened her eyes, anger raced through her, mixing with the dread. This man. Right in front of her. He had killed her parents. Taken them from her.

  “Because, Harper, your father, the sheriff, was looking into some missing kids—our missing kids—and getting far too close for comfort. We had to eliminate him.”

  Eliminate him? He said it like it was nothing. Like it had been as easy as swatting a bothersome fly.

  “What happened to them?” she choked.

  “Oh, don’t worry, they didn’t even know what was coming. One of my men shot your parents while they were driving, causing the car to crash. We didn’t expect you to be there, but there you were, unconscious in the back. You’d survived. We put chloroform over your mouth so you’d keep sleeping, and decided you would join the others. We knew they wouldn’t search where we were taking you.” He waved his hand around. “A million acres of wild land. A better hiding place doesn’t exist.”

  They’d pushed the car into the canyon, hidden it so it’d never be found. And it wouldn’t have been, if not for Jak. Her mind whirled. But how did I get the pocketknife? Had her dying father slipped it into her pocket somehow? At the thought, her chest ached because it was really the only explanation. The way her father’s remains had been turned. Toward the backseat. Toward her. Her father’s dying thought was to protect her.

  Dr. Swift turned for a moment, and Harper considered trying to run at him and take him down, but he was too far away to be taken by surprise, twice her size, and she didn’t have a weapon. Not to mention the younger man, who hadn’t been introduced was there too, presumably Dr. Swift’s security protection. Dr. Swift turned back toward her.

  “Against all odds, you got out of the wilderness that night.” He looked almost amazed for a moment. “We watched you closely for a while, but you didn’t remember anything. Lucky for you. After that . . . we knew it was far too risky to attempt to take you again. By that time,” he sighed, “there was only Jak. Our experiment had gone terribly awry.” He smiled, looking beyond her, out to the falls. “But Jak . . . ah, Jak. If only we had a thousand just like him. Driscoll had begun to find out how he’d react to being introduced back into society. He was doing so well. Mentally strong and impressively . . . civilized. We were so close to being able to debrief him, enter him into more specialized training. Weaponry, hand-to-hand combat fighting . . . it would only have been a matter of a year, maybe less, before he could be put up for bid. I can just imagine the offers that would have come in for him. A shame. A waste.” Deep sadness passed over his face before he inhaled a long, slow breath. “But, it wasn’t meant to be.”

  Her head spun with what had been done to Jak. Debrief him. Meaning, tell him his life had all been a terrible lie? Put up for bid? Horror clawed at the inside of her chest. If only we had a thousand just like him? Who was we? He and Driscoll? Or were there more? The twisted magnitude of what she was hearing made her feel lightheaded.

  He shook his head. “You have no idea of the significance of what we’re doing, Harper. No idea. I’m sorry I’m going to have to hurt you. But we simply cannot have loose ends at this stage. There’s far too much at stake. We should have taken care of that—of you—years ago, but now we can only learn from our mistakes, only be more . . . efficient in the future.”

  She shook her head, bewildered. Horrified. “What do you mean there are others going on?”

  “I mean, we have them set up all over. We have others like Jak who have already been such great successes. My protector, Daire, is a perfect example. My prodigy. Only nineteen years old.” He looked back at the young man still standing stoically behind him. “Isn’t that right, Daire?” Daire’s eyes moved to him and he nodded, his expression unchanging. “And,” Dr. Swift went on, “there are even more who show much promise. I’m not the only one who supports the copious benefits of our program. There are many benefactors and bidders who understand that the unwanted children of addicts and thieves only bring forth a society’s downfall. It’s already happening. Look at our inner cities. How the government is addressing the problem is not working. It’s only making things worse. We strive to make things better. Unfortunately, our first study failed for all intents and purposes. But we learned, adapted, and now, now such exciting things are happening. Survival stories like you’d never believe, skills of all sorts being exhibited from throwaways.” He laughed, a joyful sound that even the wind didn’t want. It rang out around them, loud and spine-chilling.

  Harper swallowed. Our first study failed for all intents and purposes. Our first study. Her. Jak. The other two boys. They had been the subjects of the first study. And it had failed. So now this man was going to tie up loose ends. Two of the boys were already dead, so that meant her.

  And Jak? Another wave of horror washed through her, and she groaned, but it was snatched by the roar of the falling water.

  CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

  Jak crept through the forest, the sound of the rushing water drowning out the other sounds around him. Meet me, the note had said, at the top of Amity Falls. They know you’re guilty, Jak. They know you killed Driscoll. I can’t let them put you away. Let’s disappear together, back into the forest.

  At first his heart had dropped. She thought he was guilty? Of killing Driscoll? She knew that wasn’t true. He’d told her . . . everything. What they had shared . . . the plans they’d made . . . Let’s disappear together. It didn’t make sense. He’d gotten a ride from one of the police officers who had come to Thornland when his grandfather was taken to the hospital. He’d rushed to her door, wanting to tell her everything that had happened. But she was gone, missing from her apartment where she told him she’d wait.

  Something was wrong.

  He turned his face into the gentle wind, tilting his head to catch . . . there. He smelled her. Even over the fresh mineral scent of the rolling water, even over the scent of . . . another human. A male. No, two.

  He moved forward, crouching, silent. He came to the edge of the trees, moving in the shadows, using the light and dark to draw closer.

  “I know you’re here, Jak,” one of the men called out, making Jak freeze, a growl coming up his throat that he swallowed down. That voice. He knew that voice. “Cameras. They give the advantage, despite your stealth.” The man looked at Harper, who was standing closer to the falls, and smiled. Another man, a younger one, was standing behind the man who’d spoken, his eyes focused on the dark trees where Jak hid. “We can’t have them everywhere, of course. But I get the numerous feeds on my phone. Riveting TV. A true reality show if ever there was one.”

  This man had been watching Jak too? The monster who’d been at the top of the cliff that awful night?

  Anger moved within Jak, anger and grief, as he suddenly saw his life—all his suffering—in a different and even more terrible light. But on the top of both of those emotions was fear. His skin prickled. Chest
burned. The fear of Harper standing in front of a man who Jak knew meant to harm her.

  The man nodded back to the young man behind him. “Daire.”

  Daire pulled a gun from his coat pocket, making Jak’s blood freeze.

  “Come on out, Jak,” the older man said, the one with white stripes in his dark hair like a skunk. “It’s pointless to hide in the woods.”

  Jak paused for only a moment and then stepped from the shadows.

  The man smiled, an expression that looked truly . . . affectionate. “Hi, Jak. My, you’re even bigger in person. It’s . . . truly wonderful to see you.”

  “Jak,” Harper said, her eyes darting to the gun in the other man’s hand, her smile breaking. Jak moved toward her, pulled, but neither man stopped him.

  When Jak had made it almost all the way to where Harper stood, the older man said, “That’s good. Stay right there.” He sighed. “I’m going to explain to you our mission. Why, you might ask, am I telling you? Because you deserve to know. You deserve to understand that your sacrifice will not be in vain. Quite the opposite. You are both part of something so much bigger than the two of you. Despite what must happen here today, I revere you. My pride in you, and admiration for you both, knows no bounds.”

  Despite what must happen here today. Jak’s brain spun, trying to understand. This man, he had been there the night it started. He was working with Driscoll. He’d watched the cameras. He’d seen everything. His thoughts tumbled, brain buzzed.

  “I understand why you killed Driscoll, Jak. I truly do. It all went so wrong. If we had had a chance to de-brief you, you would have understood your purpose, found pride in the suffering you’d endured.” He looked very disappointed for a moment but then smiled. “Ah, well. What’s done is done.” The man thought Jak had killed Driscoll. He had left the note in Harper’s apartment.