Run With Me

by Shorter, L. A.

  The only other option that I can see, and the one I must choose through elimination, is to stay put. Hide up in this tree until he's gone and the light of the morning can perhaps provide a new slant on things. The only downside to that is he's most likely going to pass back down this way, and maybe by then he'll have realized that I went vertical to escape him.

  To combat that, I decide to climb even higher towards the heavier foliage above. I can still faintly see his light pointing further up the hill, so know he hasn't turned around yet. I move up, from branch to branch, recalling my childhood when I used to climb trees in the park. I don't think I ever went this high though.

  Soon I reach a fork where two thick branches divide. It provides an ample base for me to sit and there's sufficient foliage around me to shield me from below. If he shone his light directly through the leaves, he might catch me, but there's no other chance he'll see me in the dark.

  I've managed to make it just in time as well, because he seems to have stopped. I can see his light moving around in every direction now, scanning in a full 360 motion. Then my heart drops slightly as his light lifts up into the night sky. He is checking the trees.

  I quickly look up and consider going higher, but there's nowhere else to go and this branch is the widest and safest I can see. He's coming back towards me now, moving down the hill. His light swishes from side to side, cutting a path up into the high branches above. I lie flat, hoping to block off my body completely from sight, but I know my clothes are colorful and will shine out brightly when hit with the flashlight. As soon as that light hits me, I'll be a sitting duck.

  He's getting closer now, and there's nothing I can do. No time to climb down and run. No chance of climbing higher and out of sight. His light swings from tree to tree, almost playfully. I can imagine him licking his lips, this cruel smile creasing his mouth. “I know you're up there Kitty,” I imagine him whispering. “A cat caught in a tree.”

  He's only a few trees away. One, two, three, more before me. Then he'll see me. Then it's game over. I feel the tracker in my pocket, pinching my skin as I hug the bark tighter and tighter. The tracker! I think, as if Colt will miraculously appear right here, right now to save me. I reach in and press it and a small flashing red light appears. The crimson glow almost gives me a heart attack as I realize he might see it below. I quickly place it back into my pocket and wrap my arms back around the wide branch.

  But I know Colt can't help me, not from hundreds of miles away in LA. Maybe he could have called Dale, but I feel for sure he's dead now, head down in his car, blood pooling at his feet. No, right now there's nothing I can do but await my doom and hope, just hope that he misses me.

  The light traces the tree opposite and I see the branches burst into light. The entire tree is suddenly glowing, every branch, every nesting bird and frightened squirrel exposed to the pair of searching eyes below. I can see him, carefully examining each one as if he knows I'm up here somewhere, as if it's only a matter of time before he finds his target.

  The tree fades into darkness again, and I know it's my turn. I shut my eyes, lie as flat as possible, and hold my breath for what good it will do. A short silence hits as I wait for the gunshots below. Instead, I hear a roar.

  It comes from up the hill and suddenly the woods are alive with cackling birds and the sound of something large and heavy crashing through the undergrowth. I open my eyes and see the light that was threatening to reveal me suddenly point in the direction of the noise. Now I hear the sound of silenced gunshots, punching their way forward accompanied by flashes of light. I hear more roars and crashes as the man below me turns and runs, as fast as he can, back down the hill.

  He moves quick, plunging the woods around me back into blackness. But there's just enough pale moonlight to see the bear – that inquisitive bear – come charging down the hill after him. I don't know if he was drawn by the sound of the chase, or maybe the scent of my blood on the branch, but he's become my unlikely savior. He roars forwards, keeping chase, and soon I see more flashes in the darkness.

  I root for the bear, cheering for him in my head, and even let out a quiet shout of “get him”. I hope he tears him apart, causes him more pain that he's ever felt. This is the man who killed Tara, the man who killed my aunt and uncle. I hope this beautiful bear – my savior – sends him straight to hell.

  Time passes, and the woods go quiet. There are no more flashes of light, no more crashing sounds. Even the squawking birds have fallen silent once more after the commotion. I sit up against the trunk of the tree, my body jangled with nerves, adrenaline still pumping through my blood. I can tell, right now, that this is going to be a long, long night.

  Chapter 15 - Colt

  Colt

  I react immediately as soon as I see the beeping light. In a flash I'm gone, running from the house and leaving the man sobbing and curled up on the sofa. I'm down the street, into my car, and grabbing my phone without thinking.

  I dial Dale's number and hear it ring. It rings and rings but he doesn't pick up. I try again, and again, but there's no answer. I bunch my fist into a ball and hit the dashboard. I told him to expect my call at any time, to be ready if ever I called him. Why isn't he picking up?!

  Then a terrible thought crosses my mind. Has he betrayed me? Has Michael Carmine paid him off somehow? He's the only one who knows where Kitty is except for me. If she's in trouble, he must be involved.

  A little voice provides another option. He was found, forced to give her up. Or maybe someone tailed him to the cabin with a tracker, just like Rugger tailed me? I know Dale. He wouldn't betray me. Not for money, not for anything. So if he's not picking up, maybe it's because he can't.

  I look at the blip on the phone and zoom in. It's stationary, near the cabin, northwards into the forest. Is she hiding out there in the dark? Is this a trap to try to lure me up there? She might already be dead, her tracker used as bait to ensnare me.

  But no, I think. It can't be a trap. Only Kitty knows about the tracker, only she knows to use it as a distress signal. Even if they found it on her, they wouldn't assume turning it on would cause me to run to her aid.

  I shake all thoughts from my head, throwing all internal debates to the wind, and focus on a single notion. That Kitty is in trouble, and I need to get to her. Now.

  My engine roars and I'm off down the road. I'm not driving there. No chance of that. Another 15 hours or more on the road is too long. As I drive I check flight times and find that there's one leaving for Seattle in a little over an hour. I can make it, just, if I hurry.

  Time passes so quickly now, as if everything is in fast-forward mode. I'm so preoccupied with Kitty's safety that I'm at the airport in a flash, rushing through to buy a ticket, and boarding the plane just before it leaves.

  I try to get some sleep on the flight, and find myself fading in and out of consciousness. I don't like to fly, and avoid it as much as I can. Ever since that seemingly endless flight back from Iraq, after learning of the deaths of Sophie and Ellie, I've always associated being 30,000 in the air with the murder of my family. On this flight, however, they don't have a chance to invade my thoughts. Those are dominated by the present right now, as are my dreams. Kitty, Michael Carmine, Dale. Each makes an appearance.

  Whenever I wake I check my tracking device. The signal is still coming from the same spot a little north of the cabin. This brings fresh concerns to my mind, because I'd have expected her to be on the move. It's the dead of night, but if she's in trouble, movement is her ally and staying in the same place is her enemy. I know what's in those woods: wolves and bears and other threats. Horrible images of her - mauled by a grizzly, torn to shreds by a pack of wolves – invade my mind. I block them out quickly, literally shaking them from my head.

  It takes about 3 hours to reach Seattle, and I've still a way to go. By now it's past 4 AM, and I've got to rent a car. Another 30 minutes later and I'm back behind the wheel, driving northwards up the Interstate. It's quiet on the roads, wh
ich is some sort of blessing. I only have to hope that my excessive speeds don't alert the authorities.

  Soon I'm turning inland once again towards Concrete. It grows darker the closer I get, streetlights becoming more scarce along the road. Then it's just me and my high beams, spotlights on the tarmac in front of me. I check my tracker and see that the red dot still hasn't moved. Only 30 minutes, I tell myself. Then I'll be there.

  Cracks of light are now appearing on the horizon as dawn breaks. It's good, I think to myself. It will make it easier to find her. By the time I reach the town, the steady glow of the rising sun is growing brighter by the minute. I pass through and up towards the track that leads up into the hills. I keep my eyes peeled for the concealed path that leads to the cabin, but there's no need. The gate is open, the bushes and foliage that had been hiding it dragged to one side. My pulse quickens as I turn and speed into the woods.

  There's a soupy blanket of mist hovering over the forest floor as I move deeper into the woods. It makes the path difficult to see, so I use the treeline to guide me. The mist swirls and parts in front of me as I drive, revealing a few feet of track beneath my wheels. Now I can see the cabin ahead, desolate and alone within the clearing of the forest. I head towards it until I see something on the ground, exposed by the parting mist, materialize just ahead of me.

  I slam on the brakes and twist the car to the right, sliding to a stop in the dirt. The mist closes in around me once again as I jump from the car and towards the body on the track. It's slumped awkwardly in a heap, blood gathered in a thick pool of crimson around the head. I lean in and role the body over, not bothering to check for a pulse. That vacant look in the eye, that hole blown in the back of the head, the quickly graying color of the skin. I know immediately that Dale is dead.

  I get that same feeling I felt so many times all those years ago in the army. That feeling of watching a brother in arms fall to the enemy. I've seen many friends fall to enemy gunfire, but that was war. You expect it, grow to accept it. This isn't the same. This is murder, and I can never accept that.

  My hand is quickly gripping my pistol and holding it out in front of me, my eyes scanning for any movement in the fog. I know that Dale was killed hours ago, and that the assailant is unlikely to still be here, but it's instinct, one ingrained in me. I stand and move quickly towards the cabin now, checking inside to make sure it's clear. The door is splintered, the lock cracked and broken. My eyes raise to the back window. It's open. Did Kitty escape out of it?

  I turn and run to the back, where the woods rise up further into the hills. I know that the source of Kitty's tracker is up there, somewhere northwards beyond the cabin. I want to shout out, to call her name, but don't take the risk. There's still a chance the killer's in the area.

  I rush away from the cabin across the clearing towards the trees, pulling the tracking device from my pocket. The signal is still there, still stationary only a few hundred feet from where I'm standing. As I reach the trees I stop, and almost stumble backwards. A huge grizzly bear blocks my path, lying prostrate on the floor, it's jaws set forward in a permanent growl. My finger locks on my trigger as I point at the beast, ready to shoot if it moves to attack.

  Then I see the blood. Thick red patches cover the bear's body, spoiling the beautiful brown of its fur. I look closely into it's eyes, and see that they're empty, lifeless. I can't help but just look at it for a moment, completely still in the glowing mist. I've never seen a bear so close before, and it's strangely moving to see such a magnificent animal struck down like this in such an unnatural way, its body riddled with bullets.

  But I can't delay. I step past the bear and continue into the woods, working my way up the hill as I follow the beeping red light on my tracking device. The beep grows faster as I approach the tracker, keeping time with the increasing rate of my pulse. The mist still hangs over the forest floor, but I can see ahead now, through the trees. I keep moving, faster and faster up the hill, my eyes quivering from side to side in search for Kitty.

  Nothing. I can't see her. The beeping closes in, each blip sounding so quickly after one another than soon it's just one continuous note. The tracker is here, right here in this spot. But Kitty isn't.

  I quickly pace a few steps away and the note breaks again into quick beeps. I step back and, once again, a single droning sound is formed. It's here, definitely here.

  My eyes search to the floor, still layered with a swamp of morning fog. It's hard to make anything out as I bend and search through the shroud, desperately hoping that I don't feel a leg, an arm, any part of a body lying flat on the floor.

  A crack sounds above me and my eyes turn up. I see a thin branch, half broken, suddenly snap off and fall through the foliage and down to my feet. The trees! Did she hide up there?

  Now I call out, my voice breaking through the silent forest. “Kitty! Kitty!” I quickly step away from the tree a few feet and scan the upper branches. “Kitty, are you up there?!”

  I wait, my breath held. Nothing. Not a sound. I call again, moving around the tree at different angles to get a better view of the top. Again, I hear nothing. I see nothing. Then I see a flash of red, a fleck of dark liquid on a low hanging branch. I move towards it and immediately know that it's blood.

  Now I shout louder, calling out Kitty's name. My voice reverberates around the woods, echoing through the mist. I turn in every direction, calling, then listening. Each time, I hear nothing but the chirping of birds and the humming of insects.

  My foot steps on something unnatural, something with a hard edge, up against a thick root protruding from the soft earth. As I bend down the fog clears beneath me and I see the small square tracking device I gave to Kitty, half buried and concealed in the mud near the base of the tree. I lift it from the ground and my heart sinks.

  She's gone. Taken. Killed. Lost in the woods. Escaped. I don't know which. I can only pray that it's the latter.

  Chapter 16 - Kitty

  Kitty

  I can feel my eyelids beginning to pull themselves together as I sit up against the trunk of the tree. It's been quiet for about 30 minutes now, ever since that beautiful bear came charging out of the darkness to chase away my pursuer. It took a while for my pulse to return to normal. For the adrenaline to stop pumping. Now all I feel is a strong sense of drowsiness spreading through me, one I'm desperate to shake off.

  Drowsiness is rarely dangerous, but for me it's life threatening. If I fall asleep and drop off this branch, it's most likely curtains for me. I shake my head hard, blink quickly, and open my eyes as wide as I can to dry to suck up as much light as possible. The darkness certainly isn't helping.

  I begin to weigh up my options. My pursuer has seemingly left the scene, and might even be dead or seriously injured. Do I risk climbing down and returning to the cabin? Now might be the best time to try to escape under the cover of darkness.

  But then, that man isn't the only threat out there. As good as its timing was, that bear is just as likely to try to kill me as him. If either one of them is still down there, I'd be much safer up here.

  After a short internal debate I decide that it's best to stick it out up in the tree. All I need to do is keep my eyes open and I should be OK. I shuffle my position and once more feel the pinch of the tracker in my pocket. I reach in and check that it's still working.

  Colt. I wonder if he's seen the signal, if he's coming right now. Is he even able to? Maybe he's too busy doing what he returned to LA for to notice or even think about me. Maybe he's....dead. I turn the thought from my head. No, he's not dead. He's seen it, and he's coming. It's the only thing for me to believe.

  I find myself altering my position regularly to keep from getting too comfortable. Not that being comfortable is a particular problem I have to worry about on this rugged branch. I reach to the side with my hands, feeling along the edge of the branch to keep myself centered. Then I sit back, my eyes open, and stare forward through the black forest, always holding the tracker in my lap. It's red
light, indicating that it's on and working, is some comfort to me in the darkness.

  I can't tell how much time passes before I feel myself dropping off. My head bobs forward, sinking into my neck, and my eyes fall shut. Almost immediately, I snap my neck back up, hitting the back of my head against the tree trunk, and open my eyes wide. Once more I shift my position and shake my head to disturb my slumberous descent. For a few minutes it works, until again my head is slacking forward and my eyes drawing shut. The same routine occurs – my head bobbing, my body instinctively waking me up – several times over.

  I'm starting to lose myself in the darkness, my mind overcome with tiredness. I sit and focus on the red light in my lap, and soon everything else fades to black around it. My breathing turns slow and shallow as I drift in and out of consciousness. Each time I snap myself awake, knowing how dangerous it is for me to fall asleep, but I can't help it now. My exhaustion is making me immune to any thoughts of danger, telling me it's OK, my instinct will keep me perched on this branch.

  I listen to the sounds of the forest, which is eerily quiet at night. The odd flapping of wings as a bird leaves the trees, of leaves shaking in the light breeze. I hear the lightest of cracks below me as woodland creatures crawl through the undergrowth. It's strange, but I'm sure I can hear the movement of something bigger, something slightly further away down the hill.

  My eyes are shut again, and I can't prize them open. Do I even want to now? I see a light behind my lids, so faint, so pale. It's moving far down to my left, side to side, side to side. I wobble slightly on my branch, my balance momentarily upset. The sensation cracks my eyes open like a gunshot as I hear a slight crackle of leaves on the floor beneath my tree.