by Cari Hunter
“Time to find out how close your boyfriend is,” he said, shaking her like a dog.
She had been cramped in one position for so long that her legs were too numb to hold her. He gave a snarl of anger before hauling her bodily into the center of the clearing. He pressed his arm across her throat, making her gasp for air, and she struggled to gain her footing even as she clawed at his sleeve. He slapped the side of her head with his gun, more as a warning to behave than anything else, but it still made her ears ring, and he had pulled her gag away by the time she could focus again.
“Scream for me and I won’t hurt you,” he said.
The soaked material of his jacket rubbed coarsely against her throat as she shook her head. “No fucking way,” she managed to choke out.
“Suit yourself.” His voice was calm and measured, and that alone was almost enough to make her obey him. She ground her teeth together and tasted blood where a cut on her lip had reopened. Before she could stop him, he kicked at her legs and she lurched forward onto her knees. He reached around and half-opened the zipper on her jacket, and then tugged at its collar until it gaped at the back. Sleet hit the skin he exposed and her teeth chattered uncontrollably as she felt the tip of a knife pricking at the side of her shoulder blade.
“You ready to scream for me now?” he asked, pressing the knife just hard enough to break the skin.
She sobbed once but shook her head again. She wouldn’t willingly draw Alex into this; he would have to kill her before she did that. The knife moved, etching a tight line down her back, and she heard his breathing become harsher and faster. For a fleeting moment, she wondered what he had done, but then the pain hit her and everything slowly tilted sideways. She grasped at the wet earth for a few seconds before he righted her. Warmth and cold trickled beneath her shirt, and when she bit down this time, blood flooded into her mouth. Behind her, Merrick was waiting, his body shifting as he tried to scan every section of the clearing. Threads of mist twisted through the trees that surrounded them, playing tricks with perspective and muffling any sounds. As he looked to the left, a sudden flash of light on the opposite side of the clearing caught Sarah’s eye. The light instantly vanished and she knew that Merrick hadn’t seen it. With a sinking heart, she realized that Alex was close, closer than she had expected, close enough to do something stupid and impulsive unless Sarah acted first.
When Merrick bent her forward to cut her again, she forced herself to go limp. She slipped from his grasp and he cursed incoherently, fumbling to keep control of his gun, his knife, and his hostage. The blade skimmed a hair’s breadth from her eye, but before he could get a firm hold on her collar with his other hand, she bit down on the one holding the knife.
Unlike Sarah, he did scream. She kept her teeth clamped on his skin until his fingers went into spasm and he let go of the knife. Then she threw herself back and slammed her head into his nose. Cartilage splintered as his nose gave way beneath the impact, but she was already falling forward again, too stunned to do anything else and struggling to remain conscious. She heard him speak but couldn’t tell what he was saying, only that he sounded surprised. Something splashed beside her, landing in a puddle of mud and blood. She reached her fingers out to it and clasped them around cold metal. The pistol felt heavy in her hands, heavier than she would ever have supposed, and someone, a voice she recognized, was imploring her to shoot.
*
Watching Merrick torture Sarah and not being able to do a thing to stop him had been the most awful experience of Alex’s life. Poised at the edge of the clearing, she had forced herself to remain concealed as he sliced into Sarah’s back. Even when he stopped cutting, he kept the knife at her throat, and there was no doubt in Alex’s mind that he was prepared to kill Sarah at the slightest provocation. More than anything, she wanted Sarah to know that she was there, that Sarah wasn’t alone in this. As soon as Merrick had his back turned to her position, she struck a match, but the storm snuffed out the flame before she had a chance to put it out herself, and she wondered whether Sarah had even seen it. What Sarah did next gave Alex her answer.
Alex was already running, her stick held high like a baseball bat, as Sarah bit into Merrick’s hand. His scream was cut off by the impact of Sarah’s head with his nose, but the ensuing struggle left her quiet and unmoving at his feet. Distraught, Alex wavered for a second, but despite the blood pouring from his nose, Merrick was far from disabled. He had picked up the knife again and he was dangerously close to Sarah. His head whipped around when he heard Alex’s footsteps, but at her appearance he seemed to falter as if shocked, and he lowered his gun arm a fraction.
The words “Who the fuck are you?” had barely crossed his lips before she took advantage of his confusion by rushing at him, swinging her stick. The wood cracked into the top of his cheek, making him stagger to the side, and she followed up with a second hit that landed squarely on his forearm. The gun flew from his grasp, landing close to where Sarah lay, but she barely seemed to realize what it was.
“Sarah!” Alex yelled, bringing her arm up to try to ward off a wild slash from Merrick’s knife. He was trying to free something from the back of his pants, but a probable fracture to his arm was making his attempts uncoordinated and ineffective.
“Sarah, get the gun!”
There was no answer, no indication that Sarah had even heard her. The stick snapped in two when Alex smashed it against Merrick’s torso.
“Oh shit,” she whispered.
He stepped closer to her, the knife slicing through her jacket and drawing blood from her arm.
“Sarah, please. Fucking shoot him, please.”
She was tiring and he pressed his advantage, opening a cut on the back of her hand, a grin slowly forming on his face. Her feet skidded in the wet grass and his grin widened. When he raised his arm, blood dripped from the blade and coated his fingers. He never noticed Sarah dragging herself upright, and the first time he saw the gun that she threw across to Alex was when Alex pointed it at his chest. As he gave a roar of pure rage and stabbed down with the knife, she fired instinctively, two shots that tore into his torso and sent him flying backward. He landed in a tangled heap by Sarah’s side and Alex saw her recoil and scramble away.
“Stay still, Sarah. I got him.” She barely managed to sound the words out, but Sarah made a small noise of understanding regardless, and she seemed calmer as Alex took the three steps to Merrick’s side. With her gun still pointing unwaveringly at him, she flipped him onto his back and pressed her fingers into his neck. His eyes stared straight ahead, blood frothing at his lips as he took uneven, irregular breaths. She found a pulse but it was too fast to count and she could feel its strength slipping as he continued to hemorrhage. Within seconds, the throbbing beneath her fingertips had slowed dramatically, and then she lost it altogether. The breaths he was taking became a terrible rattle that stopped and started without warning. Realizing that there was no danger of his getting up again, she left the knife in his slack fingers, wary of tampering with what would become a crime scene. His breathing stopped completely and she turned away from him, her entire body beginning to shake. When she sagged to her knees, Sarah met her halfway and flung her bound arms around Alex’s neck. She was crying, great, racking sobs, and she pushed against Alex as if she never meant to let her go.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Alex murmured into her hair, unsure whether she was trying to convince Sarah or herself. Sleet continued to fall steadily and they were both soaked as well as covered in blood by the time Sarah’s cries tapered off. She hesitantly lifted her arms, the ropes at her wrists hampering her movement.
“Hey,” Alex said softly.
“Hey.” Sarah touched the tips of her fingers to Alex’s cheeks. “You shouldn’t have come,” she said. “You shouldn’t have come.”
“Yeah, well.” Alex kissed her hands gently and then lowered them and began to untie the knot securing her wrists. “I only just found you. I wasn’t going to lose you again so damn fast.�
� She winced as she peeled the rope from Sarah’s skin. “Son of a bitch.”
Sarah had almost managed to wrench her right wrist free, removing a large portion of skin in the process. Bruises marred her face, and blood was still trickling down her chin from a split in her bottom lip. Alex glanced at Merrick’s body, saw the deep crimson staining the puddles it was lying in, and felt nothing but hatred for what he had put Sarah through.
“Come over here,” she said, guiding her to sit in the shelter of the tent.
Sarah balanced her elbows on her knees and held her hands up as if she couldn’t bear to risk anything touching the raw skin that encircled her wrists.
Alex bent down to her eye level. “You okay?”
“I’m fine,” Sarah replied, a little too quickly. “Just sore.” This time she managed to smile wryly at her own understatement.
“Are you still bleeding?” Alex nodded toward Sarah’s back. Sarah had pulled her jacket straight, fastening the zipper to the hilt and concealing what Merrick had done to her.
“I don’t think so. It wasn’t deep. I’m okay, Alex. Really.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Alex said quietly, but she understood the unspoken request that she allow Sarah time to regain her composure. She touched her hand briefly to Sarah’s cheek, and then flicked Merrick’s flashlight on and cast the beam around the tent. She found her own backpack, stuffed with the remnants of their food stocks, and two more bags that were half unpacked. One held nothing but weapons, and she pushed it as far away from them as she could, concealing it in the darkest corner of the tent. The second contained a small quantity of food, a map, two blankets, and a first aid kit. While all of those would be invaluable, they didn’t include the one thing she needed the most. She peered through the sleet to where the mist was curling over and around Merrick’s body. Going out there and searching him was the last thing she wanted to do, but ultimately practicality won out. She wrapped one of the blankets around Sarah, pulling it up under her chin.
“I’ll be right back,” she said.
Sarah was already trying to stand. “No, I’ll come with you.”
“He’s dead, Sarah.”
Sarah shook her head, common sense temporarily abandoning her, and Alex had to grasp her shoulders to keep her sitting down. “He’s dead,” she said again, with absolute finality.
Sarah looked up at her with wide eyes. “I can still smell him,” she whispered. Her face was so pale that Alex wondered whether she was going to pass out. The tent stank of stale sweat and gun oil. She started to retch, and Alex maneuvered her closer to the entrance.
“That better?”
Alex watched her lift her face to the sky and close her eyes. The sleet was tapering off, leaving thin, diluted trails of blood and tears on her skin. The fresher air seemed to settle her. Once Alex was certain that Sarah wasn’t going to faint, she kissed the top of her head and then walked across the clearing. Merrick’s half-lidded eyes seemed to gauge her approach. Undeterred, she returned the stare. She had long ago lost count of the number of corpses she had seen, many of which had suffered a violent death. She knew the stink of clotted blood and loosened bowels, and the frozen look of horrified recognition on the faces of those more accustomed to meting out pain than being on the receiving end of it. Merrick was the first man she had ever shot, though, and the first she had ever killed. She knelt unsteadily in the slick grass and began to search his body.
She found what she was looking for clipped onto his belt. A small green LED was flashing on top of the radio and the display on its front indicated that its battery was half-full. A handgun fell loose when she tugged the radio free, and it was only then that she realized what he had been struggling to reach just before she shot him, and exactly how close he had come to getting hold of it. She left the gun lying impotently in the filth and blood of its owner and hurried back to Sarah.
*
The sun was doing its best to break through the storm clouds. It was nowhere near enough to warm Sarah or dry her clothing, but it made her smile all the same. Alex was also looking a lot happier as she jogged toward the tent, a small black radio clasped in her hand. Sarah felt a relief so profound it made her sway on the spot.
“Does it work?” she asked, as Alex sat beside her.
“Only one way to find out.” Alex was already turning the dial, trying to establish the radio’s frequency and channel. She shook her head in frustration. “Can’t remember the goddamn channel mine was set to.” She chose one, seemingly at random, but when she voiced a call for assistance there was no answer. “Shit.”
Sarah set a hand on her thigh in silent encouragement and Alex continued, dialing through the numbers sequentially as she kept one wary eye on the battery strength. Feeling cold in the intermittent sunlight, Sarah reached for the blanket before nestling into the crook of Alex’s arm. It was only when she felt her body jerk that she realized she had been dozing. She came awake instantly when she heard a man’s voice in animated conversation with Alex.
“No, no. We’re over the other side. Hang on, hang on. Oh shit, I have this GPS.” The GPS sounded its welcome tone as Alex switched it on. She gave Sarah a thumbs-up with a smile that stretched from ear to ear.
“Take your time, honey,” the disembodied voice said patiently. “We’ve come in by the East Fork Creek, so I guess we’re not too far from you.”
“Okay, I got it.” Alex passed the coordinates over the radio.
Sarah unfolded Merrick’s map and spotted the river that the man had mentioned. She indicated it to Alex, who let out a whoop as she finally identified where they were in relation to it.
“Oh, we’re close! You could be with us by tomorrow.”
“I got you,” the man said, his accent soft and reassuring. “You guys be okay out here for another night?”
“We’re good. Tell Walt we’re fine. He with you?”
“Walt?” The man hesitated and conferred with someone in the background. “Naw, he’s leading the search over by Ross. I’ll try and get a message to him, though.”
“That’d be great, thanks.”
“No problem. You need shelter tonight. Walk a couple of miles due east and you’ll pick up the creek. Another half mile or so, there’s a cave formation. Be a good place to stay, and we can rendezvous with you there.”
Sarah nodded enthusiastically as Alex looked to her for confirmation. She really didn’t want to spend the night in Merrick’s tent if they had any other options.
“Sounds like a plan,” Alex said. Static began to eat into the reception and the man’s reply was lost beneath it. The connection cut out abruptly. She carefully set the radio down and then gathered Sarah into her arms.
Sarah tucked her face into Alex’s neck and kissed the soft skin of her throat. “You taking me home?” Sarah murmured, and kissed her again when she laughed.
*
Their bags were heavier with the tent and the extra gear in them, but despite the prospect of rescue, they were reluctant to leave supplies behind. Sarah had continued to insist that her injuries could wait to be treated, and Alex had taken one look at the set of her jaw and chosen not to push the issue. There had been two bedding rolls in the tent, neither of which they could bear to take with them. Without speaking, Alex chose the larger of the two and carried it across to Merrick’s body. Together, she and Sarah unfolded the roll, draped it over him, and weighed the cloth down with rocks. She had already noted the position of the camp in order to pass the information on to the authorities. She felt Sarah take hold of her hand and squeeze it gently.
“You okay?” Sarah asked.
“Yeah.” Alex tore her eyes away from the makeshift grave. They had allowed him more dignity than he deserved. “Yeah, I am.”
“He didn’t give you a choice, Alex.”
“No, I know that.” She traced her fingers around a darkening contusion on Sarah’s cheek. Seeing the absolute trust on Sarah’s face, she immediately felt calmer, reassured by the knowledge that if placed i
n exactly the same circumstances, she would make exactly the same decision all over again.
They left the clearing without looking back, a circular smudge of ashes, a duffel bag, and a dead man beneath a blanket the only evidence remaining of what had occurred there. As soon as they were back in the trees, Sarah took a deep breath of freshly dampened pine and heard Alex do likewise. Two and a half miles, she told herself. That was all they had to walk. Then there would be a cave for shelter, close to a river for a ready supply of fresh water. They could have a fire, a hot meal, and a decent night’s sleep before the rescue party arrived in the morning.
“I bet there’s a bloody bear in the cave,” she said morosely.
Alex stared at her before starting to laugh at her serious expression. “Probably,” she agreed sagely as soon as she had enough breath to speak. “Or at the very least a big ol’ troll.”
“Probably a bear and a troll,” Sarah said, but she lost the battle to keep her face straight.
Alex took hold of her hand. “Got guns now.”
“Yes, we have,” Sarah said, then corrected herself. “Well, you have.”
Alex had selected two of Merrick’s handguns, both of which she was carrying, since Sarah had declined to take one. They had left the bag containing the rest of the weapons by the fire pit. The odds of anyone happening upon them before the authorities got there were slim to none.
Alex stopped walking and the puzzled expression on her face slowly altered as something that had obviously been niggling at her became clear at last. “Oh hell, is that why you threw the gun to me back there?”
Sarah sheepishly dug the toe of her boot into the leaf litter. “I’ve never fired a gun. That was the first time I’d ever held one,” she admitted. “I don’t even know how to, you know…” She pantomimed clicking the safety off and aiming. “More likely to shoot my own bloody foot off.”
