by C. K. Raggio
He squinted through the blustering snow. Almost there. He climbed up a ravine, passing under the tree house he’d built the summer before he left for Georgia. The cave entrance was dark, quiet. He ducked under the overhang and walked to the back. He closed his eyes and moved his hand over the rough wood of the trunk.
Her laughter rang in his ears. “Susan.”
He pushed aside the sounds of her moaning in Gary’s lap and recalled the memory of their last hug. The way she’d said his name before he ended her life. He adjusted his erection, then opened the trunk.
The journals sat at an angle.
His heartbeat spiked and he glanced around for any sign of who could’ve been in the cave. Did an animal get in the trunk? There weren’t any droppings. Who had seen the journals? A hunter? Some local kids?
It couldn’t be the cops. They wouldn’t know about his place. They couldn’t, could they?
He froze. Something thumped outside. It wasn’t too close, but… did he hear footsteps crunching in the snow? An owl hooted in the distance. No other sound besides his ragged breathing reached his ears. He was paranoid, nothing more.
The hair on his neck prickled. He dragged air into his lungs. It was time to go. He grabbed the journals, and then closed the trunk.
A twig cracked just outside the cave. His eyes narrowed. Change of plans.
CHAPTER 46
This was it. Cassie stared at the cave entrance as she climbed down the last two steps from the tree house. They had Steven cornered, nowhere for him to go.
Rick stood next to her, glancing from the cave and back up to Hill, who was climbing down the tree. Only Flemings left and they’d be moving in.
She looked up as he lowered himself onto the first rung. Step by step. His foot went for the third plank. He put his full weight on it. Cassie gaped as it made a cracking noise that seemed loud as a shotgun blast. Then Flemings was falling, his mouth open but without a cry. Cassie jumped back as he landed at their feet with a splintering crack.
He covered his mouth, his scream a muffled moan. Hill kneeled at his side. “Are you okay?”
Flemings whispered between his bared teeth. “It’s broken. My knee.”
Shit! Cassie glanced at the cave then at Rick.
He pushed his shoulders back. “Hill, we need to go before he comes back out.”
Flemings squinted. “This is your fault.”
“Of course it is,” Rick said. “Hill, help me prop him up behind the tree.”
It only took seconds for them to move him, but Cassie knew with each tick of the clock, Steven could be exiting the cave.
Rick threw hand warmers onto Fleming lap. “Let’s go.”
With Hill in the lead, Rick covered his left and Cassie his right. An owl hooted, its wings flapping as it flew from one to tree to another.
Cassie’s ears hurt from the constant pounding of her heart. Breathe. Just breathe. They took the final steps toward the cave. A loud sliding, scuffling noise came from inside. Is Steven taking the whole trunk with him?
Hill froze, his arm up in the air. Twigs snapped in a frenzy from inside the cave.
What the hell is Steven doing?
Hill turned with a wide-eyed stare. He motioned around the back of the wall of rock. Rick nodded his understanding and Hill crept away from them, his back against the stone.
There hadn’t been another way out of that cave, at least not one that they'd found. She watched Hill disappear around the corner. Cassie and Rick took cover on either side of the entrance.
Rick counted it off on his fingers. One. Two. Three.
Breathe.
They went inside, their flashlights lighting the dark cavern.
Empty. The trunk was pulled off the wall two feet. Branches littered the floor. Her heart felt ready to explode. They dashed forward, and peeked into the two-foot diameter hole in the cave wall.
They couldn’t see anything passed the leafless bushes. How stupid. Of course Steven would have an escape route. He would never back himself into a corner.
Hill’s voice bellowed from the tunnel. “Don’t move!”
Gunshots awoke the bats above their heads. A flurry of wings headed for the outdoors, Cassie and Rick right behind them. Sliding and stumbling, they sprinted in the direction Hill had gone.
They slowed as they came around the back. It was quiet. Cassie peered around the corner. Hill lay in a heap, blood seeping from his shoulder.
A dark figure darted amongst the trees a hundred yards away before disappearing into a thicket.
“Hurry, help me up,” Hill yelled.
Cassie and Rick each grabbed an elbow and yanked him to his feet. They then turned and ran after Steven's fleeing form. Branches scraped Cassie’s cheeks as she chased after Rick. She tried to slow her adrenaline, focusing on taking even breaths, but still her lungs ached.
The trail split off in three directions. Hill’s heavy steps slowed behind hers. She turned to him. His chest heaved, his protruding gut jiggling with each breath. His face was pale, blood drenched the arm of his coat. “The back up is coming from this trail.” He gestured toward the left. “I can’t run anymore… I’ll get them… we’ll be right behind you.”
Rick grabbed her arm and pulled her down the right trail. Steven’s footprints were dotted with blood. Hill had shot him. Hopefully, it would slow him down.
Their feet seemed to fly over the snow. They had to be catching up to him, but they hadn’t even seen a glimpse. The blood against the white-coated ground got thicker. Hill must’ve shot him in the leg. If a bullet had found his upper body or arm, there wouldn’t be this much blood yet.
Rick slid to a stop in front of her. She sucked oxygen into her burning lungs. “What’s wrong? Why are we stopping?”
He pointed to the ground. The footprints ended a few feet ahead of them. He put a finger to his lips. Cassie scanned the trail. Trees and thick brambles lined either side of them. They were sitting ducks.
She gripped her gun, finger ready on the trigger as they edged forward to where the prints stopped. She touched the bushes on the right, her glove coming away sticky with blood.
Rick caught her eye, and they both dropped down and peered between the naked branches. More blood and scattered snow where Steven had fallen. Where are his prints? Is he still even here?
A bullet whizzed past Cassie’s head, thunking into a tree behind her. Rick pushed her face down into the snow. Another gunshot peppered the ground, then another.
Footsteps hurried away from them.
“You hit?” Rick asked as they jumped to their feet.
“Nope, and I think he’s only got one or two more rounds left. We keep him moving, he won't be able to reload, if he has any extras.”
They found a break in the brush and were back on his trail. Around the next curve they caught a glimpse of his fleeing form. Rick fired, and Steven leapt into the bushes on his right.
We're going to get him! Cassie's heart ached, seeing the end in sight.
Rick took another stride. Cassie saw it at the last second. Metal peeking from beneath the snow. Iron jaws snapped shut around the ankle of Rick’s boot. He tripped and fell hard, grunting.
Oh, shit!
Cassie dropped to his side. “Can we get it off?” She touched his calf and he flinched and looked away. She tried to pry the rusty teeth from the thick leather of his boot, but the jaws only moved a few inches before snapping shut again.
He gritted his teeth. “It’s not going to come off, Cass.”
She stared into his eyes. There was no way she was about to give up. Steven was too close. Running scared. She rose, brushing snow from her knees. “I’ll be right back.”
“No, don’t you dare go after him alone. Back up is on the way.”
She listened down the trail. No footsteps. Nothing. “He’ll be gone by then.” Without looking at Rick again, she sprinted away.
“Cassie!” Rick yelled, his voice never sounding so desperate as now.
She sl
owed when she got to where Steven had jumped off the trail. From behind a tree she peered around the bushes. The frozen riverbed was a few feet below her.
Scampering down the ravine, it felt like Steven was watching her. Waiting for her. She scanned the trees, the ice, the rocks, looking for any sign of him, of any more bear traps.
She climbed out of the riverbed. Everything was quiet. No birds. No wind. It was too quiet. She hit the ground flat on her belly as a bullet pierced the side of her coat. Feathers flew from the hole. She felt heat, but no pain. A scratch if anything.
She rolled, and came up behind a pine tree just as another bullet slammed against its trunk. The click of an empty gun caught her ear.
Now, hopefully, all Steven had left was a knife. She scoured the ground looking for his prints. She needed to know where he was. They weren’t difficult to miss. He was bleeding much harder now.
She caught a flash of black. Aiming her gun into the tree line, she fired blind, hoping to draw him out. Get him running. Nothing.
Where the hell is he?
She stayed low and ran toward a group of three trees. Still nothing. She wondered how far away he needed to be to hit her with his knife. He would want a sure shot. It was probably his last weapon, unless he had more knives.
The back up should be coming at any minute. He would know that. They had to have heard the shot she’d fired.
A branch cracked from behind her. She turned, but not fast enough. Her body slammed backward. Her head knocked against a trunk. Stars speckled her vision. Warmth spread across her torso. Metal grinding against her ribs.
She turned onto her side, facing the trees, keeping her gun gripped in both hands. Footsteps drew closer. She shut her eyes, trying to get a feel for how close he was.
“Cassandra,” Steven whispered. “I’ve finally got you.”
She fought against her body’s urge to black out. The pain seemed to be attacking her every nerve at the same time. Just a little closer. Her hands trembled, her teeth chattered.
He paused. “I knew I would.”
Another step. Just one more.
Snow crunched by her feet. She flipped onto her back.
Steven jumped. His eyes went wide, then they darkened, reminding Cassie of his dog’s eyes. Alive but dead. “You didn’t get shit, asshole. And this is from my partner.” She pulled the trigger, hitting him in the groin. His face contorted with agony as he grabbed himself. Then she fired again. The bullet slammed into his forehead, and he jerked backward, dropping to the ground.
A steady humming started in her ears, got louder, turned into a constant ringing. The pain in her side stopped. The smell of gunpowder assaulted her nose. She felt numb, but so cold at the same time. How bad was she hurt? She tried to move, to look, but her body wouldn’t cooperate.
Where's my backup?
The whole ordeal was over and she wanted to go home.
CHAPTER 47
The elevator dinged. The crutches dug into Rick’s armpits as he hopped past an older couple to the nurse’s station. He glanced down at the cast on his leg. Between his boot, and the layers of socks he'd been wearing, and the age of the trap, he'd been lucky. It hadn’t done severe damage to his skin, but it had still broken his ankle in two spots.
A tetanus shot, ridiculous amounts of antibiotic and eight to ten weeks with a cast. It could’ve been a lot worse. At least he was moving around, at least he’d been released from the hospital.
They still weren’t sure how long Cassie would have to be kept here. Panic boiled in his stomach. He had struggled with the trap on his leg, trying to pry it off when she’d taken off down the trail, but to no avail.
It had taken three guys to get the trap open, then they heard the gunshots. A few minutes later, two more. He’d tried to get to his feet, but with the snow, he'd wound up on his face. They had to hold him down after he’d tried to crawl after Cassie.
He didn’t think he’d ever forget the image of Cassie strapped to a stretcher, an oxygen mask over her pale skin, blood soaking the front of her jacket, the knife's wooden handle jutting from beneath her ribcage.
“Sir, can I help you?”
Rick stared at the young nurse with wild red hair. “Detective Cassandra Logan’s room?”
She frowned at him. “She’s just come out of recovery. Are you a family member?”
“No. I’m her partner.” Not a complete lie.
She stood up, smiling. “You must be the FBI agent. Follow me.”
His casted leg throbbed as he trailed behind her.
She glanced at him over her shoulder, her eyes narrowing. “You should really be in a wheelchair.”
“No.” He took a breath and picked up his pace. “I’m fine.”
She slowed at room 308. “This is it.”
A doctor stepped out. “You must be Agent Sanders.”
Rick grinned at the man. “Is she asking for me?”
“Uh. No. Sorry.” The doctor averted his gaze for a moment.
Weird reaction. “How is she? Can I see her?”
Putting his hands in his pockets, the doctor said, “She’s lucky. The knife caused massive internal bleeding. The surgery stabilized her condition. You can go in, but she’s groggy. Coming in and out. Shouldn’t be long till she’s more alert though.” He stepped to the side so Rick could go in.
He moved to her bedside. Her eyes were closed. She was pale, her skin blotchy and bruised. Five blue sutures lined her cheek where they’d sewn up the gash from yesterday. Her blonde curls fanned out, framing her face against the pillow. Even now in the ugly pink and white hospital gown she looked beautiful.
Sliding down into the chair next to her bedside, he took her hand. She murmured something and he leaned forward, his chest tight. “Shh. Cass. It’s okay, baby, I’m here.”
Her eyes fluttered open.
“Cass?”
She squinted at him. “Sam?”
Rick’s heart dropped. That’s why the doctor hadn’t been able to look him in the eye. He clung to the dim hope it was the drugs talking. She was confused.
“No, sweetie. It’s Rick. I’m here, you’re okay.”
Her lids shut over her bloodshot eyes. He winced. The doctor said this would happen, that she was groggy.
The nurse walked in. “Is she responding?”
“She just opened her eyes, but closed them again.” He couldn’t get the words she’d spoken to leave his lips. Sam. Goddamn Sam.
“Wonderful.” The woman beamed, checking on the IV bag. “Her father and brother are here. I’ll send them in.”
Rick’s shoulders slumped. “He’s not her brother,” he whispered at the woman’s back.
He brought Cassie’s hand to his lips. “You’re going to be fine. I promise.”
Footsteps clomped down the hall. Sam rushed into the room. Rick used his crutches and struggled to his feet, backing away from the bed. Tears streamed down Sam’s face. He fell to his knees at her bedside.
“Cassie,” he cried. “Can you hear me?” He brushed hair from her forehead. “Cassie?”
Her eyes blinked open. “Sam?” She licked her cracked lips. “What’s going on? Where am I? Steven… we found him. I need to go.”
He put a hand on her arm. “You already got Steven. He’s dead. You shot him. You’re at the hospital.” He choked up. “You got hurt.” He covered his face with his hands. “He hurt you.”
She ran her fingers through Sam’s mop of hair.
Rick turned his head and stared at the wall, his hands clenching into fists. He wanted to rush at Sam, slam his head with his crutches. He wanted Cassie to be his.
He glanced back at the bed and found her watching him.
“Rick?”
He pasted a fake smile on, took a step and stopped.
She glanced at his cast. “Are you okay? How bad is it?”
If he’d been looking where he was going, she wouldn’t be in that bed right now. This was all his fault. “I’m fine.” He choked on his words. �
�Do you… do you remember what happened?”
“Yes.” She shifted her hips and grimaced.
Sam jumped to his feet. “Don’t move. What do you need?”
“Some water, maybe?”
He inched away from the bed. “I’ll get the nurse.”
Cassie held her hand out. “No. Please don’t leave.” Her lids drooped lower. “Where’s Dad?”
“I’m right here.” Her father stood in the doorway, watching her. His shoulders were hunched and shaking. He leaned against the doorframe.
Feeling like an outsider, Rick moved toward the door. He cleared his throat. “I-I’ll get the nurse.”
As he passed by her father, a thousand thoughts swirled through his mind. He wanted to tell the man how sorry he was. That he would’ve never left her side, but the trap… What he really wanted to tell the man was that he was completely falling for his daughter. That he thought he loved her.
Her father touched his shoulder. “You okay?”
Rick glanced back in the room, at Sam hovering over the bed. If he tried to move in on Cassie, tried to talk her into giving him a chance he’d be selfish. He’d be the person that Flemings hated, the man Rick didn’t want to be anymore.
Sam and her father would be at her side no matter what. Whenever she needed them. And he’d already failed her twice. He wasn’t good enough for her.
He watched Cassie smile up at Sam. A smile that she’d never given to him. She was already in love with someone else. His stomach ached. It felt like two tigers were playing tug of war with his insides. Could he really walk away?
Sam kissed her forehead.
“Agent Sanders?” Her father stared at him, worry etched in his brow.
Rick gave him a sad smile. “Make sure Sam takes care of her. She’s special and you’re both very lucky. Don’t let him take her for granted. If he ever falters, give me a call. I’d be happy to step in.”
