by Dave Bowman
“Bear traps?”
“There’s nothing. There are no traps.”
There was silence again as the men paused for a moment.
“Where do they keep watch?”
Liz’s shoulders shook as she began to weep silently. She knew her mistakes would cost them all their lives now. She had only tried to help someone she thought was in need, but in the end her actions would get everyone killed. And now there was nothing she could do or say to keep them safe.
“We don’t keep watch,” she said, her voice cracking.
There was another beat of silence, then a strange noise from both of them. It took Liz a moment to realize what the noise was: they were laughing. But their laughter was so strange, so sinister sounding, that she almost didn’t recognize it as laughter. A wave of nausea passed over her.
“So you're telling us you people don't have any traps, any watch guards. Basically you have zero security.”
“I guess not,” she replied.
James let out a whoop and made a slapping sound on his thigh. Even with the blindfold, Liz could tell he wasn't nearly as feeble and weak as he had pretended to be in the woods.
“Wait, how do we know she’s not lying?” the cold one asked.
“Don’t worry, man, she’s not lying,” James said. “She’s such a goody two-shoes I don’t think she’s even capable of it.”
James grabbed her face. “Aren’t you, princess?” he spoke to her in a disgusting, cooing voice. “I had you wrapped around my finger from the beginning.”
With her vision gone, her hearing had become heightened. She heard footsteps approaching from behind the men, but they gave no indication they had heard the sound.
“Keep your hands off her,” said a deeper voice from behind the men. It was a new voice Liz hadn’t heard before. James instantly let go of her face and jumped back, taking a step away from Liz.
Judging from the timbre of the newcomer’s voice and the way the others deferred to him, Liz imagined him to be big and tall. His presence clearly startled James and the other guy.
“Oh hey, boss, sorry to wake you,” James said. “Just getting some information from our girl, here.”
“Well, keep your grubby hands to yourself,” he said.
“Sorry, just had to put a little pressure to make her talk.”
“What did she say?” the big one asked.
“Get this,” James said, laughing. “There’s no security at the lodge. They don’t even keep watch.”
“Or so she says,” the cold one said.
Liz heard heavy footsteps slowly approach her, then a big hand rest on the back of her head. The hand stroked her head surprisingly gently. Then suddenly, the man roughly grabbed her hair in his hand, pulling her head back. She gasped, her pulse racing. A chill went down her spine.
“You’re not lying to us, are you?” the deep voice asked.
Liz shook her head quickly. “No, I swear I’m not.”
“Because if you are, and if anything happens when we go over there -- if any of us gets so much as a paper cut -- you’re dead.”
Liz’s heart pounded, and she could feel herself shaking. Her mouth went dry, and her throat closed up. She nodded her understanding.
“Do you understand? Speak,” he commanded.
“Yes, I understand,” she said.
He let her go with a flick of his hand, and she gasped for air. Panic was taking her over. The first two men had been bad enough, but the third man was different from them. He wasn’t just mean or cruel. He had the cold indifference of a psychopath. She knew that he was capable of pure evil.
There was movement in the room as the men shuffled around. She heard the sound of metal clinking, and she imagined they were grabbing their weapons and preparing to leave.
“See you soon, sweetheart,” the big one said. “You’ve been very helpful. Maybe we’ll let you live when this is all over. You can stay with us in the lodge.”
The other two laughed, and she heard the sound of a door opening and footsteps exiting the room. Their voices grew fainter as they walked away, discussing their plan of attack. After a moment, there was silence. They were gone.
Liz moved quickly, furiously, twisting her hands in the rope to no avail. She had to get the blindfold off so she could see what she was doing.
She rolled over on her back, pushing herself onto her shoulders and head and swinging her legs up and over into a shoulder stand. She had practiced the pose dozens of times in her yoga routine, and it came naturally to her. She brought her knees to the floor beside her head. Using one knee to pin the tail end of the cloth against the floor, she moved her head out from under the cloth, finally wriggling free of the blindfold.
Out of breath, she came back to sitting and looked at her surroundings for the first time. It was a tiny, rustic log cabin that looked old and not very kept up. In fact, the ceiling looked so worn that it seemed like it could cave in at any moment. There was one main living space with a separate room that apparently was the bedroom where the third man had been sleeping.
The three men had been living here for at least a few days, she surmised by the clothes, gear and trash strewn about the place. She even recognized the wrappers from some of the food she had given James.
She pushed herself up to her knees to get a better view of the small space. She looked around for anything to help free her hands of the rope. She saw nothing sharp that she could cut the rope on, and she stamped her feet in frustration. Then her eyes fell on the candle that was burning in its holder in the middle of the kitchen table.
Standing up too quickly, she felt a little woozy. The blow to her head that had first knocked her unconscious had left her unsteady, and she took a moment to catch her balance. When she was steady again, she lifted her bound arms behind her, struggling to reach the candle. In the end she had to partially hoist herself up on the table and inch her arms toward the flame.
She held her breath as she felt the heat on her skin. One wrong move and she’d knock the candle over or otherwise put the flame out, and then she would be as good as dead, alone and incapacitated in the dark cabin. She guided the rope over the flame slowly, feeling the heat grow as the dry twine caught fire.
The heat was painful, and more tears came to her eyes. Biting her lip, she would not allow herself to cry out. She pulled her wrists apart, ripping the rope apart little by little as the fire weakened the fibers. The skin on her wrists was raw from the friction of the rope and now the fire, but she pulled at the rope without mercy. The fibers finally gave out, and she yanked her hands free.
The burning rope dropped to the floor and she stamped the small flame out. Moving quickly through the two rooms of the cabin, she saw that her own pistol was nowhere to be found. The men must have taken it with them. But it didn’t matter -- she’d have to go without it.
She moved toward the door and rejoiced to find it unlocked, stepping out into the cool, dark night. She fumbled in her pocket for the small flashlight she carried, and clicked it on, trying to orient herself.
Sweeping the light over the cabin and the surrounding woods, terror closed in around her. She had no idea where she was. She had been unconscious when they had carried her to this cabin, and the area was unknown to her.
Her mind raced as she gasped for air. She had gotten free of the rope and blindfold, but that was just the beginning. Now she had to find a way back to the lodge, and she had to arrive before those men to warn the others. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes as she searched for the answer.
She lifted her head toward the sky and opened her eyes. It was a clear night without clouds, and the first quarter moon was just above the horizon. The stars were bright, and the Big Dipper came into view quickly. Memories from the camping trips with her family came rushing back to her. She and her brother had been little, bundled up against the chilly night, as their parents explained how to find true north.
Just as she did all those years ago, she located the two stars
forming the outer edge of the Big Dipper's bowl, then traced a line from those stars to the last, brightest star of the Little Dipper’s handle. True north. She turned to face it.
Both times she had seen James, he had approached from pretty much due south, and when he had retreated, he had returned to the south as well. So she had to go north.
She set out running, and she crossed the small clearing the cabin was situated in quickly, arriving at the edge of the forest. The woods were thick there, she saw as she lit the area with her flashlight, but as she entered them she saw a trail. She froze when she saw it. It must be the trail the men had taken. Suddenly worried they might see her light, she turned her flashlight off and waited a moment for her eyes to adjust to the darkness.
Liz felt her throat closing up as she weighed her options. She couldn’t risk taking the same trail as the men and getting herself shot when they found her. She took a deep breath, trying to stay calm and think clearly.
She turned east and walked along the border of the clearing and the forest, hoping some other idea would come to her. She saw what looked to be a narrow, faint trail, perhaps used by animals as they moved through the forest. Reorienting herself with the North Star, she calculated that the trail was heading roughly north-northeast. She would have preferred to have gone due north, but she had to take the chance on this narrow path. She was out of other options.
She hurried down the little trail, using only the glow of the stars and the moon to light her way. Her eyes had adjusted to the low light, and she was surprised at how well she could see to travel through the dark forest. Still, though, she could only see a step or two in front of her, but she charged on, ignoring the branches that lashed at her face and scratched her hands and arms as she pushed herself forward. She stumbled and tripped numerous times, once even falling on her hands and knees, but she pushed herself to her feet, not stopping to even check herself for injuries.
She fixed her eye on the North Star from time to time as she moved to keep track of the general direction she was traveling. She was still heading just east of north. She didn’t know where this trail would take her, nor did she know how far she needed to walk until she would have to turn off toward the lodge. She only hoped that the lodge was not on the west side of the main trail the men had taken. If so, she feared she would not make it before the men.
Her mind kept returning to macabre possibilities. She was terrified of running into those three horrible men. She didn’t doubt they would shoot her right there. And if they beat her to the lodge, she imagined the worst. She had spoken the truth to those men – there was basically no security system at the lodge. No traps, no alarms, and no one had been keeping watch. She suddenly realized how vulnerable the group had been all along.
Another wave of guilt swirled around the fear in her troubled mind. She should have told the others about James the first time she saw him. Her only intention had been to do good, but it had backfired dramatically. She had trusted him, thinking that he was alone and in need of help, but she had been so wrong. She shook her head, pushing the useless thoughts away for now. She had to get to the lodge before the men launched a surprise attack on the others.
After several minutes, she thought she heard voices. She froze, holding her breath but unable to still her heart which was pounding in her ears. It was the men, she was sure. But their voices were far away, and she couldn’t be sure where they were relative to her position. She scanned the area for the light of their flashlights, but she saw nothing.
The voices seemed to be getting closer, which must mean that they were approaching from behind, and she was ahead of them. She hadn’t heard any gunshots, so they had not yet reached the lodge. And the fact that they were talking meant they were not yet near it, or else they wouldn’t risk anyone hearing their voices. That gave her hope.
She continued forward as silently as she could, stopping every so often to listen for them again. Her fear consumed her, but it was also the fuel that pushed her forward. She had to get to the lodge before the men.
Liz had no idea how long she’d been walking. It could have been an hour, or it could have been twenty minutes. But she pushed on through the dark night, determined to find her way back to the others and warn them in time.
A pile of rocks a few feet ahead caught her eye. She approached it and looked around. Her narrow little path had intersected a small trail. Suddenly, she realized that she knew where she was standing. She had arrived at the trail that ran between the lodge and their parked vehicles. She recognized the pile of rocks as one of the cairns she had assembled her first trip alone to retrieve her gun, when she had first seen James. She had knocked the other cairns over that day, but she must have missed this one.
Liz quietly dismantled the pile, just in case the men behind her used it as a signpost. Then she turned right onto this trail and headed east toward the lodge, moving swiftly and silently through the quiet, dark woods. She suddenly felt vulnerable on this more open trail, knowing that the men would likely take it as well. She only hoped they wouldn’t spot her – or hear her – ahead of them.
34
Nick took a sip of the lukewarm coffee and set the mug down. It was instant coffee, and it had quickly cooled off while he waited in the chilly night, but he still appreciated having something to keep him alert. It had been a long day, and his body wanted rest. But he wouldn’t rest knowing Liz was out there, and that there were people up to no good in the woods nearby.
From his vantage point he could see the house and the meadow. He sat in a chair perched on the slope that ran behind the tool shed. He had been on guard since he and Jessa got home, having refused Charlie’s offer to take the position. Nick wanted to be ready.
He stood up to stretch his legs and walk around a bit. He didn’t know what had happened to Liz, but he was determined to get her back safe and sound.
His dedication to the young woman he had just met days ago surprised him a little. He realized that this group of survivors he had formed meant more to him than he had suspected. After losing Kaitlyn and Owen, he imagined he’d be alone in the world. But now that Liz, Charlie, Jessa, and Mia had come into his life, he felt a kinship with them. They belonged here, and they were probably the closest thing to family he had left. He wasn’t going to let some thugs hiding out in the woods capture any of them.
He swept his eyes over the meadow below. A movement to the west caught his eye, and he readied his rifle. Squinting, he craned his neck to get a better look. What he saw made his chest tighten.
There was a person running from the edge of the forest and entering the meadow. He aimed his rifle and flashlight in the direction of the movement. Realizing it was Liz, he lowered his weapon. He jogged down the slope as she ran up the hill. As she approached, he could see that she had been through hell. She had been hit on the head, and there was a bloody gash on her forehead. Blood and scrapes covered her arms and face, presumably from running through the woods.
When she got close enough for him to see her face, he felt fear leap through his throat. Instead of being relieved to make it back home, she was terrified.
“They’re behind me!” she said, running toward him.
Liz was feeling ill from fear and exhaustion from having run so far without a break, but she still pushed on. She was glad to see Nick outside with his gun, but she knew the men would be arriving at any moment.
“Who?” he asked, looking her over.
“The men who kidnapped me,” she said, panting as she pushed ahead toward the darkened lodge. She wanted to get out of the open and behind cover. “They’re going to try to take the lodge. We have to get inside. Now.”
He helped her inside. “How many?”
“Three of them.”
He opened the door for her and she ran inside, not stopping until she got to Charlie’s room. Nick glanced back at the woods one last time before he stepped inside, but he saw nothing.
“Charlie!” Liz called as she pounded on his door. “Wake
up!”
She moved to Jessa’s room and threw the door open, walking over to the bed and shaking her. “You have to wake up now! They’re coming!”
Jessa groaned, still asleep, and Liz shook her by the shoulders. “Wake up, wake up,” she pleaded.
While Liz tried to rouse Jessa, Nick got his weapons ready and stationed himself at the window, keeping his eye on the stillness outdoors.
“You’re back,” Jessa said, finally realizing that Liz was in front of her. “What’s wrong?”
“Get up and get your gun!” Liz said. “Three men are on their way right now!”
Jessa finally understood and swung her feet onto the floor. After a moment’s pause, she sprang into action, grabbing her pistol.
Charlie burst out of his room holding his rifle, instantly ready for action. He moved to Nick’s side, where Nick informed him what was happening in a low voice.
Mia opened the door of her bedroom and looked out, frightened by all the noise but not seeing anything in the dark house. Liz rushed to her side, and Mia threw her arms around her neck when she saw her.
“You came back!” she said.
Liz returned the hug quickly, then scooted Mia back in her bedroom. “Stay in here and don’t come out until it’s all over, OK? Hide in the closet, and don’t open it until one of us comes for you and tells you it's safe. Don’t light any candles, and stay away from the window.”
Mia looked scared and confused, but retreated into the room as she was told.
Nick and Charlie waited crouched down by the windows on the west side near the door, and Jessa moved to the south-facing window in the living room. Nick handed Liz a rifle, and motioned for her to take the window on the east side. Pushing open the window, she pointed the barrel of the gun into the night air, and positioned herself so that she could just see out the window.
“Stay down as much as you can,” Nick whispered to the others, his eye still watching the meadow below. “Remember your breathing, Liz,” he said. She was grateful for the reminder, because she had been panting, and she needed to take a few deep breaths to slow her respiration down. Otherwise, if she needed to shoot, her aim would be shaky.
