by Ryder Dane
It was a hell of a climb, and Charlie cursed himself for allowing his body to go soft like it had. He’d exchanged the pack of smokes for a baggie of sugar packets, not only for his health, but he didn’t need to alert one of the Johnson clan that someone was on their hill by letting the cigarette smoke reach their noses. The side benefit was the extra energy he would need to navigate through the dense woods. He was the victim of low blood sugar, instead of shots to keep his sugar at an acceptable level, he was forced to eat high protein and carbohydrates, it was a good thing they made those little packets of peanut butter crackers, or he would starve to death nowadays.
Thinking about his eating habits just brought his mood further down. Once Selma found out about his issue, she cooked regularly for the two of them. When he left her, his nutrition had gone to shit. Why should he bother to care, he didn’t answer to anyone, dammit.
It was almost full dark by the time he decided that he wouldn’t get any further without breaking an ankle in the dark. He didn’t bother to light a fire, or even pitch his tent tonight. His bedroll would be sufficient for his needs, and he remembered to take the painkillers for his arthritic knees so he’d be able to walk the next day.
It took a long time for him to doze off, and even then his sleep wasn’t restful, his mind continually replayed her messages that she’d left on his phone. “You said you would always be there if I needed you. Daddy, I’m scared, please, please, pick up the phone, or call me back.”
Chapter Two
She’d done everything she could think of to hide from the Johnson clan. She knew she had to stop crying over the fact Charlie refused to answer her calls and he probably had moved on in the past months since they’d last been together.
She hung up the connection when the automated voice told her the voice mailbox she was trying to connect with was full.
He had been her only real hope at keeping her safe, and now she cried ugly tears of fear and betrayal. She would have bet her life that Charlie meant what he told her before he left the bed they’d shared and made love in most of the night before.
“If you ever need me, you call and I’ll be there. I’ve never told a woman that I loved her like I love you, but you need to follow your dreams, girl, and I’m not the kind of man you need by your side while you’re livin’ those dreams.”
He’d wiped the tears from her cheeks with his big thumb and licked the liquid off. “I don’t want to be the cause of your tears, girl, a man shouldn’t make his woman cry hurtful tears, and if I stick around you will cry later on when you realize being with me is holding you from getting elected. I wouldn’t be able to look in a mirror to shave or comb my damn hair if I was to be the reason your dream couldn’t come true.”
Election night she’d come home to find a dozen yellow roses and one blood red one in the center with a card that said, “Proud of you, and may all of your dreams come true.”
He hadn’t signed the card, but she knew who sent the beautiful flowers, and she’d sat at her kitchen table and bawled her eyes out that night. It was so unfair, and she hated the job that she loved because she couldn’t have it all like she’d always believed a woman could. She could have the dream, or she could have the man of her dreams, one or the other, and it sucked.
Now she needed him to hold her in his strong arms and tell her everything would be all right, but he had cut the tie between them, and she was alone. She fell asleep on the sofa they’d first made love on, and woke up to see Birdsong Johnson staring at her.
She opened her mouth to scream and she saw the raised fist that she hadn’t ducked fast enough to avoid.
She woke up when she was pulled from under the backseat of a vehicle that she didn’t recognize. She realized then that someone else must have been driving Birdsong’s old pick-up as a decoy for the police to be looking out for.
Juanita stared at her in fear, but Selma kept her eyes on the gruff wiry man. He could use a good scrubbing from the smell of the him, and he grinned at her with tobacco stained rotting teeth. She wanted to put her fingers to her jaw to see if anything was broken, but her upper arms were taped to her sides, and she couldn’t get her hand up far enough to touch her face.
“You thought you’d get away with takin’ my kids, but you gonna learn a lesson, girly, they give ‘em back, they get you back.” He looked her up and down with disgust, and shook his head as if he’d found her unattractive. “While you’re at it, you’re gonna tell me how you got the little fuckers off of my property, I ain’t a patient man, so you need to talk.”
Selma wasn’t about to divulge anything to this man and she knew he wouldn’t like it. There was no way for her to brace herself from the fist upside her head again. Her jaw still hurt from the last time he’d hit her, and she screamed and spat the blood from her mouth at his feet.
Her jerked her back to her feet and spat tobacco juice over his shoulder before grabbing her arm and dragging her toward the woods.
“I gave you the chance to tell me what I want to know, but you split tails are all alike, a bunch of lyin’, connivin’ whores. So I’m takin’ you to your new home. You ain’t used to a place like this one, but it’s what happens when you steal from a man, an’ mess with his family.”
They walked for what seemed like miles to her. Her feet were a mess of cuts and she felt the liquid of her bloody scrapes trickle through her toes as she was towed along. Finally they came to a cave of sorts dug into the side of a small hill, and Selma knew this would be her prison. She pulled back when Birdsong kept walking toward the hole in the side of the hill.
“No, please don’t do this, you are already wanted by the police for what you did to your children, what makes you think they will give the children back to live in the same situation? You allowed men to fondle your ten-year-old daughter for God’s sake. You hit your twelve-year-old so hard he is deaf and blind on the right side of his head. The others are in bad shape too. Why are you doing this?”
He ignored her words and she dug her bloody heels into the rotted leaves, but it caused her to skate and fall into a position of almost the splits. Fuck that hurt. Her hamstrings were screaming bloody murder, but the sound of Birdsong laughing maniacally brought her attention back to him.
“Stupid bitch, my eyes are blue, Juanita’s eyes are blue, Oona, her eyes are brown, she ain’t my kid, neither is Corbin, and two of the other youngins. Winters up here are cold and a single man has needs, for the right price a man might let his friends take their ease between the thighs of his property. God makes his choice whether to plant a stranger’s seed or not. I ain’t gonna argue with the almighty.”
He yanked her wrist and she screamed as she felt the bone in her shoulder pop and separate from its socket. He kept towing her and dragged her inside the dirt cave. In the middle of the floor, was a new patch of concrete with a heavy logging chain embedded in the hardened square that was eight foot long with a round metal shackle welded to the end of the chain.
“Oh hell no, you can’t do this to me.” She kicked her feet at him and connected to his knee, but he grunted and gave her a kick in the thigh.
“Stupid bitch, you’re lucky I plan to make you live for a while, and if you learn, after the hunt is over for you, I’ll let you live until you step outta line.” He bent down to grab her now useless leg by the ankle and jerked it toward his other hand that held the metal circlet. He patted her knee once he’d secured the thick padlock holding the two metal halves together. He grinned at her again and chuckled.
“I figure it this ways, if you make it out of this dug out alive, it will be cold an’ frosty by the time they stop huntin’ for you. I can make a pretty penny off selling the chance to fuck a split tail judge. I’ll be able to sell your services to the highest bidder and if they pay enough, or they have to pool their money and fuck you all together, it makes me no never mind cause the next men’ll step right up to ream your ass out for all the indignities men have to put up with. Don’t that idea make your cunt just wetter
than a heifer in heat?”
He laughed, and left her sitting in the dirt.
It was getting dark outside, and from the meager light coming through the open mouth of her prison, she got on all fours and did a crab side crawl to the low table which was actually planks lying on top of round pieces of firewood, where she spied a blanket.
The crawl was painful and she had to gasp for breath a few times as she hauled herself onto the planks to get her body up off the damp earth. There was only one other person on earth who knew she had a deathly fear of bugs, and he was nowhere nearby to kill them or brush them away from her skin.
She screamed when she shook the blanket out and two mice jumped from the folds of the material where they had begun building their nest.
Crying was counterproductive, but there was nothing else to do, “I will be strong again tomorrow, tonight I will forgive myself for being weak. Tomorrow I can face the fact I’m the only one I can rely on. Ha, maybe if I cry loud enough the bears will stay away.”
She resented the job that she loved. “Oh sure, you are a big time judge, and look where it has gotten you, Selma, old girl.” She looked around in the dark as pitch hole in the ground and shook her head. “Yes indeed, you could have been in your own bed with the only man who ever truly gave a damn enough about you to leave rather than be an embarrassment to you.
“You are getting exactly what you deserved, he moved on and you let him go.” She thought for a minute and narrowed her eyes in the darkness. “Oh no, when I get out of here I will drag his ass kicking and screaming with me, if the voters can’t accept him then they don’t need me either. I can still practice law, fuck this, Charles Vernon, look out, Hurricane Selma is going to lock your handsome ass down, and I’m going to make you like it dammit!”
She dreamed that Charlie was looking for her, and she kept calling for him to help her, but she woke abruptly when she rolled off the planks and landed on her dislocated shoulder. The bone shoved itself back into place, and her screams made her own ears hurt from the pain she’s experienced as she felt it pop back into the socket.
When she could breathe without gasping for air, she grabbed a handful of dirt and threw it as hard as she could into the darkness. The frustrated scream that left her mouth helped her to center herself. Her arm was still basically useless, but it should be better in a few days, as long as the bastard kept his hands to himself.
His threats to sell her wares made her shudder, but she would not give into the despair. If she had to, she would defend herself, at least now that she had something to use as a weapon. The long branches at the mouth of her cave would make a decent weapon, as long as her chain was long enough to get close enough to pull one of the dead saplings inside the hole with her so she could trim it down and strip it of the smaller branches and leaves.
Once daylight came, she would be able to scope out her domain and she would have a better idea of what her options might be. She crawled back onto her plank bed and closed her eyes. “Charlie, Daddy, I am so sorry, I love you, please find me before it’s too late.”
Chapter Three
Each morning Selma woke and used the two foot deep hole in the corner of the room to take care of her bodily functions. It was gross and disgusting, but it was better than nothing. There were two two-gallon jugs filled with potable water for which she was thankful, and there were several cans of food too. Nothing that could be considered an actual meal, but her appetite was almost nil anyway. She still forced herself to eat something each day. If the opportunity came for her to escape, she would be alert and have energy to run.
On the forth morning she woke to the low sound of voices coming toward her cave. She stepped close enough to the side wall and craned her neck trying to see who was coming to visit. Her heart sank when she saw it was only Birdsong and his wife, so she walked back to her wooden bed and sat down.
Juanita walked into the cave and hesitated before coming closer to the docile prisoner.
“I done brought you some food an’ some more water. You better get used to your own company, I cain’t be bothered coming up here an’ babysittin’ your ass. I got chores to do, an’ now that you took my kids, their chores fall on my shoulders. It ain’t right that you should take a momma’s children like you did.”
All the while Juanita was talking tough she looked at Selma with gratitude and pleading. Her head jerked to the side to let the judge who helped get her children away from the monster she was stuck living with. The big van had pulled into the yard, and she’d handed the baby to the judge personally, and so far she hadn’t been sorry that her kids now had a chance to have a life away from this place. She would do whatever she could to help the woman who liberated the kids, but there wasn’t much she could do yet.
She leaned in close and told Selma, “Sorry, ma’am, but could you squeak or yell a little bit, like maybe I was slappin’ you?”
The younger woman was good, she slapped her own arm and Selma let out a scream that brought a smile and a nod from Juanita.
“You took my kids, how did you get them? Who helped you?” Another skin on skin slap and Selma continued to do her best to let out convincing noises of pain.
“You’d best tell me, ‘cause Birdsong’s cousin’s kids was took that same day and we want our kids back.”
All the while she was leaning near Selma asking if the kids were okay. She was reassured by the direct eye contact and nod.
“I’m tryin’ to figure a way to let you get loose without Birdsong knowin’ it was me.”
After the last slap and scream, Selma told her in a slightly raised voice, “I wasn’t involved in acquiring the children, social services brought the children into the courtroom and the doctor reports on their conditions. None of them have even had a vaccination, six of the thirteen children have serious mental health challenges ahead of them and need to go into special foster homes that are trained to deal with their unique issues. If you loved your children as much as you say you do, then you would have protected them and sent them to school.
“I am a judge, I believe in and follow the law, when I see children that have been abused to the point yours were, you’re damn right I signed the papers removing your parental rights.”
She knew that she’d pushed too far when she heard the fast shuffle of booted feet heading their way, and she nodded to Juanita. The woman had tears in her eyes when she drew back her hand and slapped Selma in the face, hard. She allowed herself to fall sideways to the dirt, and pretended to be barely conscious for the benefit of Birdsong’s intense stare.
He stood over her and pointed a stained finger at her. “You just signed your own trip to hell, bitch. Nobody talks to me or mine like that. You better hope the water and food here last a good long time, ‘cause you’re gonna die right here. Once you’re dead, I’ll jest cover the hole and forget you. Juanita ain’t comin’ back with a damn thing to keep you alive. You gonna have time to think about trespassin’ on this family, but you’ll be dead in a week.”
She didn’t bother to say anything as the evil bastard towed Juanita from the cave, leaving her alone once again.
She pushed herself back into a sitting position. If she heard him right, he planned to leave her to die of exposure or starvation. “Okay, Selma, there is a bright side to this, at least you won’t be used as a prostitute, Hillbilly style or not.” The knowledge made her laugh in a slightly hysterical way, but laughing served its purpose in allowing some of the stress of her situation leave her mind.
Charlie woke slowly. Every fucking muscle appeared to be screaming at him, and he groaned. “You outta shape, fucker, shit man.”
He used the tree behind him to pull himself to a standing position. His thighs felt like they were on fire and his lower back was one big pain. He made it three steps away from where he’d slept before needing to take a leak. Once that was taken care of he felt a little better, but kept cursing his laziness over the past few years.
He dug a granola bar and a bottle of wa
ter from his pack to get his blood sugar back up so he’d have energy to move today. He thought about the climb that would be on today’s agenda and groaned again.
“Ya dumb fuck, always needin’ to do shit the hard way. You should’ve told Big Dog to hop on his scoot and gather a few more brothers to rescue Selma, but no, you gotta be fuckin’ Superman or some shit.”
Thinking of Selma made his cock twitch and he shook his head. “The only fuckin’ muscle that don’t hurt, well hell, at least I ain’t so old I need a goddamned pill to get it to work. Go to sleep you horny fuck. She ain’t gonna be in any shape for what you want for a while, if she’ll ever want me again after this.”
It took most of the morning for him to reach the top of the hill. The hilltop was bare of trees and only had minimal ground cover, and he cursed his bad luck, but dropped his pack twenty feet before he reached the crest while crawling on his belly. By the date the cops had said she was taken until now, Selma had been in Birdsong’s possession for seven days. Who knew what kind of shit that old hillbilly had done to her.
He remembered the fading bruises that he’d seen on Juanita’s face the day he’d been there before, and the thought that Birdsong might have hurt her enraged him. “That fucker better not have touched her in a harmful way.” He knew in his mind Selma hadn’t been treated delicately and finally felt his old skill come over his mind. First get her to safety, then deal with her captor. If Birdsong was in his way to reach her...
He would be eliminated where he stood.
He used the scope on his rifle to recon the area of the hollow of the Johnson homestead. The place looked deserted, but Charlie knew better than to think he could just walk down into the place without worrying about a cap being put in his back.
