by Joe Russell
“You just don’t know when to quit,” Dave said coldly.
Larry met his gaze with an equally cold, bloodshot glare and said with a chilling grin, “I told you, I’m gonna get you, and that bitch of yours.”
The words had barely left the man’s mouth when he was silenced by Dave’s boot impacting his face, a familiar crunching sound echoing off the brick house and into the night air.
Chapter 18
Spruce Knob, West Virginia. Present Day.
Neil led Mike down a path that headed south into the forest, across the road from his campsite. Mike hoped it wouldn’t be too far. He wasn’t exactly expecting Neil’s idea to yield any success and was anxious to get back to the cabin where Dave had entered and not come out. To him, the path didn’t look like it would take them too far. It wasn’t the typical rocky mountain trail that they had spent most of their time on the previous day, but more of a wide dirt path that looked like it might have been a road at one point in time. Although the land where the campsite was had been fairly flat, it wasn’t long before the land started sloping again. To their right, the flat forest ground slowly gave way to a basin that eventually became a gorge and to the left of the trail, a steepening ridge.
They hadn’t even walked a mile when a road came into view. It was similar to the gravel forest road they had been on before but not as wide, and was snaking its way up the side of the slope from below and eventually, merging with the old road they were on. Then, just a few minutes later, they came to a small cabin. It was similar to the one where he and Dave had been earlier that day, but with a second story and maybe a few more rooms. It was in a very scenic location, sort of at a bend in the ridge they had been following. To the west, their right as they were looking at it, was a nice fire pit area and a view of the next ridge across the gorge from the top of what was probably a small cliff. To the right, the slope climbed steeply to a rocky point, a couple hundred feet above the cabin. There were no lights on, but there was a newer model Jeep Wrangler in the driveway.
“This is the place, I guess?” Mike asked rhetorically, not realizing how quietly he was speaking.
“Yeah,” Neil said. “Doesn’t look like the place has power, much less a phone line, and I doubt they have cell reception out here, but maybe they could give us a ride into town.”
“Yeah, maybe.” Mike said. He was hoping this would work. He wanted and felt obligated to help Dave and the girls, but was still hoping that the cops or someone could do it for him. So, the thought of having a ride into civilization felt promising. He knew that these people, having made the effort to get this far away from anyone else, probably didn’t want to be bothered. But this was a serious situation, and there was no reason why they couldn’t at least give them a ride out of the mountains to the closest police or ranger station.
“Well, here goes nothing,” Mike said, approaching the front door. Neil followed and the two stepped up on the low front porch. It was sagging from age and negligence and the underside of the porch roof, not too far above their heads, could have been mistaken for a spiderweb farm, had there been such a thing. Mike shuddered and tried not to look, hoping that nothing would drop onto the back of his neck while he stood there.
He knocked loudly on the solid wood front door, then listened. No answer. He knocked again, then put his ear closer to the door. Neil started to note in his squirrelly voice that they could be out hiking or something, but Mike held up his hand to quiet him. “I hear someone inside,” he said softly. Mike banged on the door a third time. This time, calling out to whoever was inside and probably hoping they would just go away, “Please help us,” he called. “We’re in trouble and we need a ride into town.”
The two stood quietly on the porch for a moment, listening for movement inside that would give away what their potential hosts might do next. To their delight, they heard movement that was less suppressed than before behind the door, as if whoever had been listening to them the whole time had given up on pretending they weren’t there. A second later, the doorknob turned and a young man cracked the door open a foot or so. He didn’t come out, but leaned against the inside of the door jamb, obscuring the view inside with his well-sculpted body. He was young, maybe early twenties, with tan skin and stubble. He looked like someone on the show Jersey Shore and when he spoke it was evident, even to Mike, that he definitely wasn’t a local.
“Whatcha want?” he asked, not exactly threatening, but not friendly either. He stood in front of the dark doorway, his skin and hair matching well, only contrasted by his white teeth and stud earrings.
Mike started to respond. “Well,” he began, looking at Neil as he spoke, “we, um, we’re in trouble. We need a ride into town.” Not the most articulate statement he had ever formed, he thought, but it got the point across.
“Oh, yeah?” the young man said, looking curious. “What’s up?”
Mike hesitated. “Well,” he said carefully, “some members of our group got lost and we can’t find them. We need to go for help.” He didn’t really want to tell the story to a stranger, but figured that this guy probably wouldn’t just load them up in his Jeep and ride them off the mountain without some kind of explanation.
The young man looked at Mike and then to Neil, then back to Mike again. He seemed to be trying to read them, as if he didn’t trust them or believe what they had to say. Finally, he replied. “I’m sorry,” he said, his tone softening a little. “I’d like to help you, but our Jeep is dead and of course, the phones don’t work out here. I’m not sure how we’re gonna get out of here ourselves.”
“Oh,” Mike muttered, mostly to himself. He thought it was odd that their Jeep would somehow be dead too, but for some reason, got the impression that the young man was telling the truth. He just stood there, trying to process what was going on.
“Yeah, sorry,” the young man said.
“Have you seen anything strange around?” Neil spoke up to Mike’s side.
The young man regarded the older man, looking slightly annoyed from the continued questioning when he was apparently finished with the conversation.
“Nope.”
“Hmm, okay.” Neil said, sounding unsure. He tried again, “Have you seen anyone out? Like maybe some locals in an old pickup truck?”
The young man seemed visibly irritated now. “No, our Jeep hasn’t run all day and we haven’t left the cabin since. I’m sorry you can’t find your girlfriends or whatever, but we haven’t seen anything and I can’t help you. My buddies and I have enough problems. We were supposed to leave this afternoon and we’re almost out of food and now, the Jeep won’t run. Okay?”
“What did you say?” Neil asked, after a moment of silence between the three.
“What?”
“How did you know there were girls missing?” he asked, a hint of suspicion in his voice.
The young man’s eyes rested on Neil’s before answering. “I dunno,” he said. “You just seem awfully concerned. And y’all are two dudes, I just figured you’d have your wives or girlfriends or something with you.”
Neil weighed the response in his mind. It seemed like a logical reason, but he didn’t like the way the young man was looking at him. Youngsters these day just have no respect, he thought to himself.
“All right,” Mike interjected, turning to the young man. “Sorry to bother you. I hope you can figure out what’s wrong with the Jeep.” He turned to Neil and gave him a look that indicated it was time to leave.
✽ ✽ ✽
Dave sat in a folding camp chair around the campfire with his captors. It was early evening at this point. He was still restrained with what felt like an entire roll of duct tape on both his wrists and his ankles. Billy and Doug had dragged him outside to where they now were, and Dave was hoping for the chance to escape or at least, to get some information.
The campfire smoked and crackled as it devoured the sticks and small logs that had been scavenged from the forest, slowly roasting the four squirrels that Billy had shot
earlier that day. Dave’s chair was between the cabin and the fire ring with Billy and Doug sitting at the ten and two positions to his relative six. He assumed that the placement was so they could keep an eye on both him and the back of the cabin, the side he had entered from earlier that day, and blocking his escape should he decide to make a run for it. The bright side of this, he thought, was that he could see out into the woods, hoping that an opportunity would present itself and only him to see it. Maybe Mike was still out there. One good thing was they had taped his wrists in front of him, making it easier to use his hands to fight or escape. He didn’t know if this was because they were nice enough to allow him to sit back in his chair and enjoy the campfire, or if they were too dumb to realize that having his hands behind his back would’ve been one more obstacle standing between him and escape.
Dave glanced back and forth between Doug and Billy across the fire. Billy removed a jar of clear liquid from a bag on the ground beside him, unscrewed the lid, and took a long pull. His demeanor seemed to instantly relax a little and he settled back an inch or two in his seat by the time the jar returned to his lap. Doug, on the other hand, sat cradling his injured hand in his lap and glaring at Dave with resentment. Dave gave him a half smile that was actually a little genuine. He obviously didn’t feel sorry for the man who had tied him up against his will and had probably kidnapped his wife and had her somewhere. And Dave couldn’t help but wish the wild round would have hit him in a more lethal spot. However, to be fair, Dave knew that if he was looking at a man who had shot him, he probably wouldn’t feel too good about it either. Despite that, Dave knew that the best way to set the stage for his escape would be to put the men at ease.
Doug’s attention was turned from Dave when Billy tapped Doug on the arm with the mason jar, holding it out for him to take. Doug gladly accepted it. Billy rummaged around in his pockets, then pulled a crumpled pack of cigarettes. He drew one for himself, offered one to Doug, who took it, then to his surprise, offered one to Dave. Not being a smoker, Dave declined, but tried to sound grateful for the offer anyway.
“No, thanks,” he said, in a tone that didn’t match how he felt. “But I’d love some of that shine, if you don’t mind.”
Doug looked at Billy with uncertainty. Billy lit his cigarette, took a long drag, then smiled a toothy grin at Dave. “Give him some, Doug… He is our guest.”
Doug got up from his seat, walked halfway around the fire, and handed Doug the jar, which he was able to grab with both hands though his wrists were bound together. He took a sip, but didn’t actually take as much as he tried to appear to.
“That’s good stuff,” he said, and held it back up for the others to take. It was strong stuff and he wanted them to have a little more before he made his move. He didn’t know exactly what that move was going to be, but a plan was beginning to form in his mind. In between puffs of their cigarettes, Billy and Doug each took another couple of gulps from the mason jar. It looked to Dave to be a quart and had been just about full when they’d started. Now, it was only half full. Dave ventured, “You got any more of that stuff? Seems like it’s gonna be a long night.”
Billy wasn’t drunk yet, but was obviously loosening up. “Yep, got another quart in the bag,” he grinned at Doug. “Think we should give him more?”
Doug, in an unusual display of cleverness, replied, “I don’t know, Billy.” He turned and looked at Dave in an unsettling way. “Depends on how he cooperates.”
Dave raised an eyebrow. “How’s that?”
Billy was about to speak when Doug blurted out plainly, “Where are the bitches?”
Dave looked at Doug with puzzlement that he didn’t have to fake. “Excuse me?”
“The bitches,” Doug repeated, as if Dave hadn’t heard him. When Dave didn’t seem to receive the clarification he had asked for, Doug continued. “The bitches you were with yesterday. Where are they?”
“If you’re talking about my wife,” Dave half spat the words with obvious contempt, “then I was actually hoping you could tell me.”
Doug looked at Billy, obviously confused by the unanticipated answer. Billy laughed heartily, “What’s that supposed to mean? You fucking with us?”
Dave was silent for a moment. He didn’t how to proceed, whether he should be honest with them or keep his hand close. Clearly, both sides had miscalculated something.
✽ ✽ ✽
“Now what?” Neil asked with both irritation and panic in his voice.
“I don’t know, but I got a weird vibe from that guy,” Mike said in a soft voice. They were walking away from the cabin and the young man had already disappeared behind the now closed door. It was obvious to Mike that he had been done with the conversation and Mike’s gut told him not to press it. Something wasn’t right.
Mike regarded the Jeep as they got closer to it. He figured that it wasn’t uncommon for campers to let their batteries die because they left the doors open, used the headlights while the car was off, blasted the radio at a campsite, stuff like that. Still, it just seemed odd to him that it would happen to them too. It’s not that he didn’t believe the young man, although he certainly didn’t trust him, either. As they passed it on their way back the way they’d come, Mike took a hard look at the vehicle. He had always loved Jeeps and for a while, had hoped to buy one. This particular one was the Unlimited model, with the larger backseat and four doors. There was nothing unusual about it on the outside that would suggest that it wouldn’t run. He could tell it was usually kept pretty clean, but there was a thin layer of dust that was so even and undisturbed, like the ocean on a calm evening, that it almost looked good on the rugged vehicle. That was all, except for one spot on the back, where it looked like someone, probably a kid, Mike thought, had used their finger to draw what looked like crude lighthouse.
“All right,” Mike said to Neil. “We need to get back to Dave. If these people won’t help us, we’re on our own.”
Neil, clearly not excited about marching in to what would certainly be a dangerous situation, said nothing.
Mike looked at the sky. It was a clear evening with the sunshine getting more and more golden by the minute. They only had an hour or two before dark and he knew that this needed to end tonight.
Chapter 19
Spruce Knob, West Virginia. Present Day.
Dave sat in his camp chair, trying to figure out the two men sitting across from him and at the same time, realizing that they were likely in the same boat. Did they really not have the girls? He had been so certain of it, but now he wasn’t so sure. So many clues had pointed to these men having been the abductors that day, but the more he thought about it, the more he realized that he could have jumped to conclusions, helped by the fact that their little encounter the previous morning had certainly convinced Dave that these two could be capable of this kind of thing. Still, he was now realizing in this world they lived in, they probably weren’t the only creeps in these mountains, eager to take advantage of that kind of opportunity. On the other hand, it wasn’t like this realization enabled him to apologize for the misunderstanding and walk away. He was still tied up and being held against his will and now, these guys were asking about his wife as if she was potential recreation that could eventually barter him his freedom. Thinking about this made Dave just as angry as the thought that Sandra and Jen could be inside the cabin behind him and he knew that he needed to escape. Tonight. Even if it meant hurting or killing these assholes. Sandra and Jen were more important, and he wasn’t going to let anyone stand in his way.
The good news was that Billy and Doug were thoroughly enjoying their moonshine and hopefully, well on their way to being drunk enough to offer Dave an easier opportunity for escape. They had offered him the jar a few more times, which he’d accepted and pretended to drink liberally. He knew that the only reason they were sharing their stash with him was that they wanted him to loosen up and disclose what they wanted to know. Or what they thought he knew. In the previous half hour since he had f
irst been asked about them, they had killed the first mason jar and had brought out the other, all the while casually talking about what they were going to do to Sandra (although they didn’t know her name) and other city slickers in the forest while all this was going on. That’s what they’d said and Dave didn’t quite understand the ‘while all this was going on’ part. He guessed it didn’t matter much to him, if he didn’t make it out of here alive.
“Hey! City boy!” Billy slurred from the other side of the fire, which was now roaring from the excessive wood that Doug kept throwing on. “Don’t make this harder than it needs to be.”
