by Joe Russell
✽ ✽ ✽
Mike watched intently as Neil made his way up the driveway and onto the porch. He was nervous, but taking the pressure surprisingly well. Even he recognized the swift changes that their dire situation had brought about in him. Through the tough image he had always tried to portray to others, Mike knew he was not that way. Maybe not a coward, but definitely nothing special. He had realized that when the girls had first been taken, and he found himself afraid to jump in and do what a real hero, in his opinion, would have done. Furthermore, he felt that although Dave hadn’t come right out and called him out on it, Dave saw this as well. Mike was ashamed of this, ashamed that if it wasn’t for Dave, who knows if he would even be out looking? The good news was that he had adjusted well, and Mike would have been well pleased to know this was the least apparent to himself. Dave, who could be hard on people for things like this, had seen the changes in Mike as they were taking place. And Neil, well, he’d never seen Mike’s weaknesses at all. If anything, by the time Mike and Neil had met, Mike was in the role that Dave had been in earlier, and now it was Neil’s turn to be weak. Mike thought about the past day. That morning, Dave had literally assaulted him and now, Mike knew he’d probably deserved it. Now only hours later, Mike had killed a man to rescue Dave, and was now covering Neil with a rifle as the man was marching back into the lion's den. Talk about a change of events. Mike thought briefly about Doug, how he had taken the man down in a such savage way. Did that have to happen? Yes, he told himself. They had Dave, and from the sounds of it, they’d wanted the girls, too. They were going to kill him, they were going to kill me. Maybe it was what he needed to think at the time, because right now was no time to be in conflict with himself. He needed to focus on the task at hand. Lives literally depended on it. Later, he could come back to what he had done… but now wasn’t the time. Still, he was strangely at peace with the whole thing. Not that it was a good thing, but it was a necessary thing. He had done what he had to do. That, for now at least, was a good feeling.
He was about one hundred yards away, behind a tree at the edge of the driveway. He had followed Neil back down the way they had ascended from the boulders, and found the spot to stay behind and provide over watch and cover from the front while Neil provided the diversion. He watched, crouched on the cold ground, trying to keep most of his face hidden, although he was pretty sure that the light cast by the cabin’s inside would not be enough to illuminate him this far out. He watched, then heard, when Neil rapped on the heavy wooden door. Then, a moment later, he saw it swing open.
✽ ✽ ✽
Greg and Don looked at each other seriously when the relative silence of the cabin was broken by a loud knocking on the door.
“The fuck?” Greg asked eloquently as he began to move toward it, sniffing and wiping his nose. He stopped, then turned back to Don, who was sitting at the table that was covered in bottles and white powder. “Hey, go upstairs and watch those bitches,” he said. “If this is someone looking for them, I don’t want them yelling or trying anything.”
Don grumbled to himself, but got up from where he had been sitting and made his way toward the stairs. It wasn’t that he was opposed to performing the task, but he was getting sick and tired of taking orders from Greg. He wasn’t their leader. Hell, they were just a group of friends that sometimes, well, made a little on the side. They all had jobs, at least their fathers did. Don’s father was a successful attorney in the Baltimore area, Greg’s was a City councilman, and Scott’s was president of a local bank. The three had met at the private high school they had all attended, and were still best friends four years later. All had just finished their undergraduate degrees in college and were headed in the same direction their successful fathers had gone. The thing was, working a low-paying part-time job in college didn’t fit any of their styles, and their greedy parents didn’t give them much of an allowance for spending money. Greg would often gripe that his BMW was almost five years old, and resented his father sometimes for making him drive such a common car. So, determined to make their own money and quickly, the three explored other methods of income.
Their first attempt at what most referred to as human trafficking practically fell into their laps, and when it turned out to be the easiest money any of them had ever made (with the exception of when their stingy parents actually decided to give them anything decent), they decided to give it another shot. Then another. Then another. It wasn’t something that they went out and did every weekend, of course. That would be too risky. It was more of when the opportunity presented itself, starting with a six-year-old girl who’d strayed a little too far from the playground in a relatively remote city park, and now included three women who were stupid enough to be out in the bum-fuck middle of nowhere. One of the guys they bought their cocaine from knew a guy who knew a guy and was able to point them in the right direction, and the endeavor had turned out to be quite the cash cow. Once again, they had practically stumbled on all three out here in the woods when they were supposed to be on vacation. The first two were mostly naked out in a creek when they had passed by on a hike, and the third was with her Dad, but he was easy to take care of. The only problem was that for some reason, their Jeep wasn’t starting and their phones wouldn’t even turn on, much less give them a signal. So, here they were, camping out in this cabin when they should have been back in the city. Don wasn’t sure how they’d fit three bound women, plus the three of them in the Jeep. It was the Unlimited model, but would still be a tight fit. Don was hoping that they could just take one of the women for themselves, then leave her here when they were finished. He couldn’t complain about the pay, but he hated that he never got to ‘taste’ the goods. Greg thought he was hot shit because of his father’s position with the City, and was their self-proclaimed leader in the little side business. His policy was that they didn’t lay a finger, or anything else, on the women they took because the fresher they were, the more they would go for at market. Don supposed he understood the logic, but didn’t like it. Here they were, stranded out in the middle of nowhere with nothing to do, and there were three perfectly good pieces of ass upstairs, ripe and ready for the picking. Earlier that day, when two guys showed up, probably looking for them, Greg had directed him to go upstairs and guard in the same fashion. The way they were tied up in front of him, mouths gagged and nowhere to go… well, it took every ounce of strength he had to not break their little policy. Honestly, just one little taste wouldn’t have hurt anything. He’d be gentle. Well, kinda. Too gentle was bland, like food with no seasoning. Now, as he was climbing the stairs, he considered taking that one little taste. Just one. Hell, Greg wouldn’t even have to know. Who was going to tell him?
Chapter 23
Spruce Knob, West Virginia. Present Day.
Even from the other side of the house, Dave could easily hear Neil knocking on the front door. That’s my cue, he thought. As silently as he could, he tried sliding the bottom pane of the window upward, and to his relief, it allowed him to with no squeak of resistance. He carefully lifted himself up and slid over the window sill, which was only about five feet off the ground on the outside. He was careful not to let anything snag or bump as he entered the house and a moment later, was crouching inside the lit but empty room. He tried to listen for movement on the other side of the door, and heard what he assumed was the front door being opened. It was on the other side of the cabin, however, and he hoped that whoever was there didn’t have a line of sight to the door he was about to open. He did a ten-second search of the small room, and aside from confirming that it was indeed Sandra’s jacket, didn’t find anything too important.
He took a deep breath, edged toward the door, and quietly drew his pistol. He had topped off the ten round magazine, and had two fully-loaded seventeen rounders on his belt. Part of him regretted leaving the Junglas with Mike, as he didn’t want to make more noise than he had to if he were to engage someone without the others being close by. But he needed to move stealthily, and Mi
ke might need a close-range weapon other than the scoped lever rifle, if things got hairy. After all, he had already proven that he was capable of using it.
Standing to the right side of the door, holding the Ruger in his right hand, he cracked the door open with his left just an inch, and peered through the crack. He jumped a little in fear and surprise as he looked out and saw a young man on a couch who was looking right back at him, but then Dave realized that the man’s eyes were shut, and he appeared to be asleep. Dave watched him for a moment longer, and the man didn’t stir. He slowly opened the door just enough to slip through, and crept toward the man on the couch. His mind involuntarily pictured this man’s hands all over his wife, while his left hand involuntarily went to the knife on his belt. Standing a few feet away from the sleeping man, Dave thought about what he was doing. The man was young, maybe a decade younger than him. A few empty light beer cans sat on a table beside the couch. He was sleeping so peacefully, and it tore Dave in half. He knew this man was guilty, and even if he were to walk upstairs and find the girls safe and sound, he would still feel like killing him for even attempting whatever they were doing. Dave knew there was nothing these men could be planning that would redeem them in his mind. You don’t just abduct a few women by accident. Plus, this man was still a threat. He could shoot Dave in the back as soon as he turned around, for all Dave knew. He had to be disposed of like the trash he was. Dave slipped the Ruger back into his holster and slowly drew the Ka-bar. It clicked as it slid out of its Kydex sheath, and Dave transferred it to his right hand, holding it tight in a reverse grip. He raised it slightly, the tip of the blade facing down, pointing intently at the man’s temple. This man would never know what hit him, and he would never make a peep again. He would never hurt anyone again. Dave’s heart was pounding so loud in his chest that for a moment he was concerned that it would awake the sleeping man, and part of Dave hoped it would. It wasn’t that Dave wanted to see the man suffer, but he did want the man to witness his own downfall, to know for one final terrifying moment, that his actions here on Earth had caught up to him. The knife trembled in Dave’s hand. Actually, he was now holding it in both hands as if he couldn’t control it and needed to steady himself. All Dave could see now was red, the still temple of the man he was about to murder. Murder? The thought popped into his mind and he stopped to question himself. Was this murder? Of course not. This man had helped kidnap his wife, had done God only knew what with her, and who knew what he planned to do with her in the future? But he was sleeping. The others were awake and active threats. He certainly didn’t feel like it could be avoided, but this man was sleeping. Dave realized that he had lowered the knife. Perhaps this was not necessary. Given the circumstance, he didn’t exactly care for this man, didn’t care if he lived or died in the end, but he also couldn’t quite bring himself to kill him as he slept. Not like this.
Dave was snapped out of his internal struggle by a muffled cry of sorts coming from above him. He looked around, then back down at the sleeping man. Maybe I’ll deal with you later, he thought to himself. That was a good compromise. He moved down the hallway, and could now hear Neil talking to another person at the front door. He didn’t stop to listen to the words, but it didn’t seem out of control. Good, Dave thought. Buy me time. To his right a door standing ajar, and beyond it was just what he was looking for. Stairs led up to the upper rooms, and he could hear more muffled noises coming from them, including a not-so-happy sounding unmuffled man’s voice. Still clutching the Ka-bar, Dave moved as silently as he could up the stairs. It was maddening how many there seemed to be, how long the climb took. He wanted to charge straight up there and put an end to this with all the brute force he could muster, but he knew he was outnumbered, and the element of surprise was his best asset.
Finally, he arrived at the top of the stairs and could pinpoint the noise. There appeared to be two room upstairs, one straight from the top of the stairwell and one to the left, with nothing more than a landing separating the two. A quick glance in through the open door revealed that this room was literally empty. He knew from the sounds inside that the door straight ahead of him was where he needed to be. The door was cracked open, so he could hear but couldn’t see. Perhaps he should have drawn his pistol, unaware of what lay behind the door, but he wasn’t thinking straight. His instincts were taking over, and he struggled to not become tunnel-visioned. The scar on his left forearm was a constant reminder of what that could lead to. He knew the girls were behind that door and at that moment, he didn’t think anyone with any weapon would have been able to stop him. Still gripping his knife in his right hand, but with a normal forward grip now, his knuckles were white from squeezing so hard, but he didn’t notice.
“Lord, help me. Help me help them. Whatever is behind this door… help me overcome it. Amen.” He said this silent prayer to himself, took one last deep breath, and reached for the door handle with his left hand.
✽ ✽ ✽
Sandra awoke with a start when she heard the door to her room open. She wasn’t really asleep. There was no way she could really sleep in this situation, and a quick survey of the two other women in the room with her confirmed that she wasn’t alone in this state. Aside from being kidnapped, bound, gagged, and tied up in this room all day, they hadn’t really been mistreated. They hadn’t left the room or been un-tied since they had been taken there. One of the men had placed a cooking pot on the floor, presumably for the ladies to relieve themselves. However, Sandra couldn’t see how she could remove and restore her clothing, and move to the pot in order to use it without asking one of the men for assistance. Feeling how close they must be to dropping one more peg on the humanity pole, she decided that there was no way she would tempt them by doing that, and had urinated herself hours before. They hadn’t been beaten or sexually assaulted, not yet anyway. She could see it in their eyes what they wanted, and Sandra suspected that it was by the order of the man who seemed to be the ringleader, why they were so fortunate. One of them especially, really scared her, and she was afraid it was only a matter of time before he gave in to his hunger. He had come in, maybe a few hours before, and the way he was looking at her, at all of them, terrified her. She prayed it wasn’t him, as she watched the door swing open by the light of an oil lamp on a nearby stand. Her heart sank when she saw who it was.
He looked drunk with lust as he crossed the small room toward her, smiling like a crocodile once again. She didn’t know his name, didn’t want to know his name. She pushed herself up against the wall behind her, as if a few more inches would put enough distance between them to protect her. She heard Jen make angry muffled noises through her gag, and turned to see Jen thrashing as best she could against her ties; like a mad dog in a kennel. Beside her in contrast, was the newest member of their group, a teenager who had been too shaken up to even attempt to speak since they had brought her in, sometime in the middle of the day. There she was, trembling at the sight of the man. Sandra looked back to him, reluctantly, and found him standing over her, just a couple feet away. She looked up at his evil face, dark with wicked intent. She thought about fighting back, about lifting her bound ankles and smashing his crotch with her heels, but she decided to wait. She didn’t know what he was going to do, and she didn’t want to make him angrier. She didn’t know what he would do if he was angry.
Not breaking his gaze from her, his hands went to his belt, and he began to unfasten it. As he did, he began to speak. “I think you all have been waiting up here long enough. I know you’ve got to be bored.” With that, he unzipped his jeans and let them fall to the floor. She turned her head, closed her eyes. She thought, God, help me! Dave, where are you?
✽ ✽ ✽
When Dave saw what was going on in the room, he was almost knocked over by the variety and magnitude of emotion that struck him. Sure enough, there was Sandra and Jen, and a girl that he assumed was Rachel. Also, standing between him and the women, was a man he didn’t recognize, at least by the back of his head and
bare ass. The man stood over Sandra with his uncovered crotch in her face, and that’s about all he remembered. Though he hardly knew what he was doing through his rage, both righteous and carnal, he acted. Dave lunged toward the man at the same time he became aware of Dave’s presence, but didn’t have time to react. Dave swung his fist, still clutching the knife, hard from left to right across his body, the blunt and sturdy pommel of the small Ka-bar making solid contact with the man’s cheek, audibly shattering bone beneath the skin. The man’s head jerked, and his body followed. He was stopped by the wall with his back against it, facing Dave, who after recovering his balance from his all-out strike, lunged again. This time, his entire body slammed against the other man’s with the tip of his knife making first contact with the man’s throat, the blade sinking all the way to the grip. The man’s eyes opened so wide that they could have fallen out, and staring, consciously or not, into Dave’s only inches away. Dave returned the stare with a glare that, had the man not been too preoccupied with the pain, would have let him know exactly how Dave felt about him. In one final move, Dave ripped the knife away from him to his right, the blade severing half of the man’s neck and spraying bright red blood as it exited. The man’s body went limp and fell to the same side, away from Sandra, who was still sitting up against the wall to Dave’s left. Dave watched him fall, and only had a brief second to regret not holding onto the body before it hit the small table and knocked over the oil lamp that had been resting on it.
✽ ✽ ✽
Neil didn’t know if he should feel relieved or not when the same guy who’d answered the door before, answered it again. The young man certainly didn’t appear too relieved himself, or in any way happy to see Neil.
