by Vivien Vale
Man. What is Dylan’s plan? Dylan who’s running like a man possessed through the wild.
If only he had a gun like Rambo. I mean I’ve seen the movie a long time ago, I know what a guy can do. With a rifle and all kind of other shit, he might stand a chance against these bad dudes.
But heck, he’s got nothing but his bare hands.
Or does he have bear hands? The play on words and the analogy brings a smile to my face, despite the seriousness of the situation. Of course, those hands are going to be useless against bullets, no matter how big or strong they are.
I’m so wrapped up in thought, I suddenly realize I’ve lost sight of him. Fuck. I stop and look around. My heart pounds against my chest.
Nothing.
Snow and more fucking snow as far as the eye can see.
If I weren’t in a life-threatening situation, this would actually be spectacular. The deep snow all around me, the valley stretching out below, and the total wilderness. Boss looks perfectly at home.
Not a sound can be heard, except for my own hard breathing.
This must be what a bird feels like when flying in the sky. For some reason, I start to sob. Before I can stop myself, a lone tear rolls down my cheek.
Quickly, I wipe it away. No point standing here and bawling my eyes out. Sure, the situation is pretty fucked. I’m all alone, I have an injured ankle, and at some point, I’m going to die.
No matter how much I try to reassure myself, it’s all going to work out fine, I’m not succeeding. How can I? The odds are so fucking stacked up against us it’s not funny.
And now I’ve lost sight of Dylan. Actually, I’ve lost him altogether.
For the first time since Dylan rescued me from my burning apartment and brought me here, it’s not snowing. So the sun’s not out, but it’s not a bad kind of day.
Up ahead, I think I can see footprints. Quickly, I scramble toward them.
When something grabs me and pulls me down my instinct is to scream. I want to scream as loud as I possibly can.
I open my mouth and feel a hand cover it.
Survival instincts kick in, and I start kicking and struggling for all I’m worth. I can’t believe I’ve run right into the arms of those assholes.
How stubborn can I be? Stay put, Dylan had said, and what had I done? The complete opposite.
My thoughts tumble over each other. I’m fighting for my life. Where’s Dylan?
“Shh,” a hoarse voice whispers in my ear. “I’m going to let you go but don’t scream.”
And then I am free.
I look into familiar eyes. It takes me a few minutes to slow my breathing. My heart is still galloping wild and uncontrolled in my chest.
“What —” I start but Dylan holds his finger in front of my lip.
“I’m pretty sure they’re all in the car, but we should keep noise to a minimum.”
Slowly, I nod. This is fucking crazy. Where, how—I can’t get my head around all this.
“Have a look,” Dylan whispers and points down the valley.
Horrified, I look at the destruction below us. Hundreds, maybe thousands of trees have been felled.
I’m pretty sure last time I checked, this area was under special protection. Has evil spread its wings all the way up here?
It seems unbelievable, but all the signs point to it.
I hear a sound that doesn’t belong into the wilderness. It’s out of place. Judging from the sound of the engine, it’s going at great speed.
A squeal of the tires and crunching of gears confirms they’ve gone around the corner too fast.
“What’s the plan?”
Maybe their own driving will be the end for them? I know it would be too much to hope for.
Dylan’s eyes are on the approaching vehicle. To my surprise, we’ve managed to get ahead of it. It’s still up above us, but it won’t take long to maneuver the steep bends in the road.
“Push it off the fucking road,” growls Dylan.
His words tug at my insides. It sounds so gruesome, so final, and so horrible. I stop thinking about it.
“But how?”
Various images crowd into my head. I can still only think of bare chested Rambo plowing through the forest with his heavy machine gun and shooting at everything that moved.
What exactly does one do without a weapon? As far as I’m concerned, explosives would be good right now. If he had a hand grenade of some sort, he could throw it on the road just ahead of the oncoming car and boom—bad guys will be history.
Of course, we don’t have a fucking hand grenade or any other kind of explosive.
“Trees,” grumbles Dylan and points to the edge of the windy road. “Trees can help us.”
With a furrowed brow, I follow his pointed finger but have no fucking idea what he’s on about. Sure, there are plenty of cut down trees, but what good are they? Is he going to pick one up and throw it at the car?
Before I can ask him, Dylan’s running down the hill. I follow.
Inches away from the road, he stops. I can see there are cut down tree trunks. Most of them are covered by snow, but a couple are exposed.
Mesmerized, I watch Dylan squat and put his massive hands under the tree. With a ton of grunting and swearing, he tries to get back to his feet and lift the trunk.
My eyes are glued to the tree. It doesn’t move. There’s no fucking way this is going to work.
I can hear the car approaching. At the speed it’s travelling, it’s going to be here in less than two minutes. Dylan may as well kiss his fucking plan goodbye.
“Come on,” I urge him. “Let’s go and hide. We’ll go to the cops and tell them all you know.”
Dylan, of course, isn’t listening to me. Possessed, he keeps straining and trying.
By now, I can see the car approaching. It’s fucking useless. As soon as they draw level with us, they’re going to start shooting.
Suddenly, the tree starts to move. I do a double take, and yes, it’s moving upward.
Boss has come to give Dylan the last bit of strength he needs to move it. Thankfully, he doesn’t have to lift it off the ground.
No. All they have to do is raise it a bit and then shove it downward. With the thinner part of the trunk facing down the hill, nature and gravity will take care of the rest.
Wide-eyed, I watch the tree get into motion and start spearing down onto the road.
Had they timed their efforts right, or would it have all been for nothing?
The three of us hold our breath. I’m sure Boss knows exactly what’s going on.
As the scene below us unfolds in slow motion, a black sports car approaches, having just come out of a hairpin bend. The tree trunk is now gaining momentum. For the briefest of seconds, it looks like the guys might make it.
I can see the driver’s concentration and the gun of the passenger being pointed in our direction.
Before I can see what happens Dylan pushes me onto the ground and rolls sideways. He yells something at Boss.
When I hear the sickening sound of scrunching metal, I know Dylan and Boss have managed to achieve the impossible.
I want to look up, but Dylan keeps my head down.
“Wait,” he orders, and this time, I do as I’m told.
Dylan
This time, Emma better fucking listen to me.
I can’t believe she followed me. As if I didn’t have enough on my mind without worrying about her. The last thing I want is to have her snooping around the scene of the accident.
It takes me less than a minute to get to the wreckage. I’m pretty fucking sure the dudes are dead, but I want to be one hundred percent sure before I let Emma stand up again.
On my approach, I see the steam rise from the crumpled-up engine and hear the hiss it makes. I keep my eyes peeled for any sign of a spark or fire. If this thing is about to explode, it won’t be good for us.
There’s definitely no movement. As I get closer, I can see the driver’s head lying backwards in an a
wkward angle and his eyes stare straight ahead, lifeless.
The others look no better. Still, I make myself go closer. I need to be absolutely fucking sure they’re dead. I don’t want to be suddenly faced with the perfect shot from a dying hitman.
The closer I get to the smashed car, the stronger the smell of burning rubber and smashed metal becomes. It’s a sickening scent. I slowly walk around the car wreck.
No airbags have gone off and I think one of the guns of one of the men in the back seat might have shot his passenger just before or during impact.
Talk about bad fucking luck.
I turn around and find Emma just a few steps away. My right hand gives her the thumbs up; they’re all dead.
She seems to take the news alright.
The authorities will need to be contacted. As much as I don’t want to, I’ll have to rummage around the bodies to find a phone. I don’t have one. There’s no other way to contact anyone.
The driver has a phone in his shirt pocket. It’s got battery and shows full signal. I call the cops and inform them of the terrible accident.
“No I don’t know any of the men.” I answer the question and listen.
“Before the crash they tried to kill me and my girlfriend.”
Eventually, I think I’ve convinced some police officer somewhere that this is a more serious situation than just your ordinary car accident.
It doesn’t take long for the sirens to travel up the mountain. Why sirens are necessary is beyond me. I mean come on, the men are dead and we’re unlikely to go anywhere.
Not one, but five police cars pull up, as well as an unmarked car.
Soon, the place is swarming with cops.
I direct them to the wreckage of my house and answer questions about what happened. Emma says very little. She stays close to me.
“Do you want a doctor to take a look at you?” a rather too good-looking policeman asks Emma.
She shakes her head.
He seems to take a little too much interest in Emma.
“And you say these men tried to kill you?”
I roll my eyes.
“If someone turns up with guns and sets fire to your house, what conclusion would you draw?”
The whole thing is getting a little tiresome.
“And then what happened?”
This is the trouble with having to call the cops. You’ve got to spend hours going over the same old shit over and over again.
“We got away. And then we ran down here,” I gesture vaguely in the direction we had been coming from. “Next minute, I saw this tree fall onto the road and the car smashing into it.”
Constable Brown is making notes in a little black book. He nods and glances in the direction my hand is pointing.
“Anything else?”
“Apart from these guys being part of a huge illegal and corrupt company? No, I think that just about covers it. What do you say, sweetheart?”
Emma says nothing. I’m not sure if she’s shell-shocked, or whatever. I know it’s a lot to fucking take in.
I’m still trying to grasp the fact that my mountain cabin is no more. All my hard work, sweat and tears gone up in smoke. Not to mention my stuff. Sure, I didn’t have a lot, but what I had, I needed.
“Some hot tea?” Someone calls over to our little huddled group, and Brown nods.
I’m not quite sure who’s asking, but Emma nods and so do I.
“Let’s take a break,” says the police officer that had been asking all the dumbass questions.
Emma and I sit in silence for a while. Boss doesn’t like all the noise and people and has gone into hiding. I can just see the tip of his head. He’s watching us closely but I know he won’t come out. Smart animal, that fucking bear cub.
If the cops knew we had a bear cub, they might call the local Ranger.
I sigh.
“Are you going to tell them?”
I turn to Emma after I take another sip of the hot tea. “What do you mean?” Of course I know what she means. But I’m just not sure if I’m ready.
Would they believe me? I still carry the little USB stick with me, the one with all the evidence.
“You know,” Emma nudges her elbow into my ribs. “All the dirt we—I discovered first time round.”
For a while, I say nothing. I’m pondering. It’s not that I don’t want to. I just don’t have any fucking faith in the system.
Although, I’ve not done terribly fucking well on my own have I?
Eventually, after what seems like hours but could only be minutes, I turn to Emma.
“What do you advise?”
“Tell them everything you know. I’ll back you up wherever I can.”
I knew she’d say that. I know it’s the right thing to do—and yet, I don’t know if I trust the system.
If those guys have been able to start logging here, who’s to say they don’t have someone on the books in the police department and get off, despite all the evidence I’ve got against them?
I guess you can’t go second guessing in life. I’ve just got to do it, and trust that it’ll be alright.
Just as I’m about to go find the police officer, a tall thin man in a suit pant and thick jacket approaches.
“FBI,” he says and flashes a badge. If he thought I could make out anything from the official pass, he’s mistaken. “Special agent Jackson.”
I nod and wait.
“Constable Brown thought you might tell me a bit more about these guys and what they were up to.”
I sigh. I reach into my pockets and pull out a little memory stick.
“I think you’ll find all the information you’ll need on here.”
With a raised eyebrow, Jackson takes the memory stick.
“And if you happen to accidentally lose it,” I say with emphasis on accidentally. “I’ve got a copy in a safe place.”
Special agent Jackson takes the little object.
“I can assure you we’ll do everything to put these guys behind bars for good. They won’t be a threat anymore to you or your girlfriend.”
Emma’s cheeks color at little at his words and my insides melt.
“Well,” the special agent makes to leave. “I think I’m all done here.” He hesitates. “You want a lift into the city?”
His question is directed at Emma. I see a mixture of emotions travel across her face.
“That would be great,” she finally says and avoids my gaze.
Suddenly, a huge rock settles in the pit of my stomach. She was going to go back. I knew she would, but I had hoped she wouldn’t.
Of course there’s nothing here for her, particularly since the cabin’s burnt down.
“Well,” I turn to her and I’m not sure if I should hold out my hand or give her a kiss.
“Thanks,” she mumbles, and the way her shoulders sag reminds me of a lost puppy.
“I don’t think Boss will come over to say goodbye.”
She nods.
“Look after him for me.”
I nod.
Jackson clears his throat.
“We better get going.”
I watch him give me a curt nod and walk off.
For a second, Emma hesitates. Then she turns around to follow the FBI agent.
“Emma,” I call after her and she stops.
It takes me two strides to be beside her.
“Goodbye.”
I take her by the shoulder and kiss her. My mouth is gentle and soft.
She leaves without another word.
When the last of the cars is finally gone, Boss comes out to stand next to me. He’s crying.
“Yeah, my friend. She’s gone.”
I pat him on the head and crouch down beside him. He nuzzles his head into me and I pick him up.
“Let’s go and find a place to spend the night.” I say, but stay rooted to the same spot for what seems like hours.
In my mind, I still see Emma standing here. I can’t believe she’s gone. My brain can�
�t accept it and neither can my heart.
Much later, Boss and I head back to the ruins of my cabin. Nothing is left but the memories I made with Emma over the last few days.
She’s made such an impact that I can’t accept she won’t be here anymore. I half expect her to come jumping out from behind a tree and call ‘peek-a-boo.’ But of course, she doesn’t.
As I stare at the rubble, I vow to rebuild not only my cabin, but my life—a life without Emma.
Emma
There’s a slight hesitation on my part before my index finger clicks on the mouse to send the email.
It took longer to write the press release than I had anticipated. How do you put into succinct words what happened in the mountains and the ripple effect of it all on the company? Less is best, I decided, and I’m already wondering if I said too much.
The to-do list on my spotless desk glares at me.
There are five things left. Shit. Is this day never going to end?
The phone rings and I pick it up. It’s the internal line so at least it’s not another angry caller I have to pacify. When I’m not answering hate mail, I spend my time on the phone explaining the changes I’ve made around here.
“Don’t forget your hair appointment.”
“Thanks Phoebs. I’d be lost without you.” I tell my personal assistant and mean it. She’s been the best since I’ve returned to the company—the company Dylan and I used to run.
Dylan.
What is he doing now?
I allow my mind to drift for a few minutes. Dylan, the mountain man with muscles of steel, sparkling eyes, gorgeous smile and the most delicious lips—not to mention his massive cock. Just thinking about him makes my pussy ache. How long has it been now?
Too fucking long my mind screams at me.
Okay, I get the picture.
My flesh is weak and longing for his touch. In my long and lonely nights, I lie awake dreaming about my man, his large strong hands gently caressing my body. Exploring places on me I didn’t even know existed.
Stop, enough daydreaming, time to focus and get on with work.
I don’t get paid to daydream.
But it’s almost impossible not to think about Dylan. It’s just that I can’t simply abandon my life here and throw away everything I’ve worked for. With a sigh and one last look at what else I’ve got left to do, I push my chair back and head out of the office.
