Dark Hunt (EMP Lodge Series Book 2)

by Grace Hamilton

Evan put up a hand signaling them to stop. “Listen,” he whispered.

  Wyatt and Megan both cocked their heads to the side, as if that would improve their hearing. No one breathed or moved.

  Wyatt waited. “What? The birds?”

  Evan nodded. “You hear them? Someone or something just disturbed them. It’s coming from over there.” He pointed off to the right.

  They had been skirting around the meadow not wanting to risk exposure out in the open. It made the route a little tougher and it was taking longer but it gave them the protection they needed.

  “Do you think it's her?” Megan asked.

  Evan shrugged, “It makes sense if it is. That is the general direction I think her camp is in.”

  “Let's go,” Megan said giving Evan a small push on his shoulder.

  She had been put in the middle between the two men. If Evan didn't move, Wyatt knew Megan would go right over the top of him.

  The trio was making good time. It was late morning. If they found Caitlin, they could still get to the lodge well before dark.

  Wyatt had moved off to one side, looking for any signs of a cabin or even a hut. He took a step and before he knew what was happening, his leg was encompassed in excruciating pain. The surprise attack made him shout out in agony.

  Megan and Evan both stopped and ran to him. Wyatt had dropped to the ground and was writhing around unable to hold still. He frantically tried to pry open the rusty jaws of the bear trap that had gripped his lower leg.

  “Oh my god!” Megan shouted dropping to her knees. “Evan, help me!”

  Slipping his pack of his shoulders, he left it where it fell and got on the other side of Wyatt.

  “Wyatt, listen to me,” he stated very calmly. “You have to stop moving around. You are making it worse. I know man, I know it hurts, but you have to stop so I can open the trap.”

  Megan moved to the top of his body and put his head in her lap. “Shh, Wyatt. Stop. Let Evan release the jaws.”

  Evan positioned himself at the end of Wyatt's outstretched leg. He quickly moved the pine needles and brush that were hiding the trap.

  “It’s a spring trap, which is a good thing,” Evan told him. Using his body weight, Evan pressed down on each side, loosening the spring and making it possible for the jaws to open.

  Unfortunately, the trap was old and rusty. It wasn't cooperating. Someone had modified the trap and lined it with small teeth. Wyatt's pant leg was hiding the damage but he could tell it was a serious injury by the amount of blood pooling on the ground and how much it hurt.

  “Megan, I need you to pry open the jaws. Grab a stick.”

  She quickly found a branch and stuck it in the jaws while Evan pushed down.

  “Now, Wyatt,” Evan told him. “Turn your foot and pull back.”

  Megan and Evan used all of their weight and energy to open the jaws. They waited for Wyatt to comply but he couldn’t seem to shift his leg.

  “I can't move it,” he groaned.

  Megan removed her right hand from the stick that she was using to hold the jaws open.

  “Megan, don't!” Evan shouted knowing exactly what she was going to do.

  She ignored him and stuck her hand into the trap to turn Wyatt's foot just enough for him to scoot back and pull it from the sharp teeth.

  As soon as Wyatt's foot and Megan's hand were clear, Evan released the stick jumping back at the same time. The trap's mouth slammed together, creating a horrible, screeching metal on metal sound.

  Megan rushed to Wyatt, who had fallen back on the ground. He was breathing fast and she could see perspiration on his forehead. She’d never seen him this pale before as his breath rasped against lungs that sounded constricted from pain.

  “Hold on, baby, hold on,” she soothed while carefully pulling the shredded pant leg up. She gasped when she saw the injury.

  Evan was standing over her, looking down at the leg. They both froze. Bone was exposed and the leg was bleeding profusely.

  Megan took a deep breath. She felt a calm wash over her. She closed her eyes and envisioned the medical books she had read over the summer.

  When Megan opened her eyes, she was ready. “Evan, I need a bandage. A large bandage.”

  He quickly opened his own pack, “Here, use this.” He handed Megan a small package. She knew exactly what it was—an Israeli bandage. It was what soldiers carried into war. The gauze pad included a pressure bar.

  Evan opened it, being careful not to touch the sterile pad. She put the non-stick pad against the nasty gash. The pressure bar was positioned over the pad covering the wound. She wrapped the leg, making sure the pressure bar stayed in position. The bandage applied pressure to the wound, to stop the bleeding.

  The gauze would help protect the wound until they could get it cleaned, stitched and dressed. Megan had read about the Israeli bandages in one of the first aid books at the lodge but had never seen one in person. They needed to get their hands on more of these.

  Wyatt started to shake. Megan knew he was in bad shape. The bandage was quickly turning red. The blood flow wasn't stopping. He was going into shock and they were miles from anybody that could help. Regardless, she refused to do nothing.

  “I need a blanket,” she instructed Evan much like a doctor would demand a surgical tool from a nurse.

  Evan quickly grabbed one of the Mylar blankets from his own bag and tore open the packaging. He left it folded in half and covered Wyatt.

  “We need to elevate his feet,” Megan barked sending Evan on a search for something they could use to do just that.

  He came back with a short log, “Will this work?”

  “Yes. I will hold up the injured leg while you lift the other and push the log under.”

  They quickly got Wyatt's feet on the log. Megan was repeating soothing words of comfort the entire time.

  She moved to his head and lay down next to him, holding his face in her hands. “You're going to be okay. Just hang in there. We need to get you to the lodge.”

  “Megan, look,” Evan said pointing through a clearing in the trees. A small trail of smoke was rising in the air. “It’s definitely a wood fire. I can smell the fir.”

  “Do you think it's her? Are we close?”

  Evan nodded, “I'm guessing this trap is one of her defense systems. We must be very close.”

  Megan looked at Wyatt. His eyes were closed and she could see the pain etched on his face. He was suffering. She looked back at the smoke that acted like a beacon to Caitlin's position.

  “Go,” Wyatt whispered. “Go get her. I'll be fine.”

  Megan laughed. It wasn't like a funny laugh, but more of an ironic laugh. She managed to get this close to her daughter only to potentially lose the man she loved. She was forced with an impossible decision. Did she stay with Wyatt and get him to the lodge or go get her daughter?

  If the Green Woman checked the area, she would see the sprung trap and the blood. She would know someone had been close. She may move, taking Caitlin with her. Megan wanted to scream in frustration.

  Evan was looking to her, waiting for her to make a decision. Could she leave Wyatt? Could she actually leave her daughter?

  The answer was no to both. But she couldn't possibly walk away from Caitlin. She was her everything.

  “I'll get him to the lodge. If you help me make a stretcher, I can get him there,” Evan said, helping her make up her mind.

  Wyatt propped himself up on his elbows, “You need to go get her Megan. Don't you dare leave without her. Shoot the damn woman if you have to.”

  Megan looked at Wyatt, cupping the side of his face with her hand “Are you sure?”

  “Megan, I'll be fine. It doesn't hurt nearly as bad as it did. The pressure actually makes it feel a little better,” Wyatt said through gritted teeth. “But, we need to get moving.”

  Evan was already up and gathering the supplies needed to build a stretcher. It was all eerily similar to what had happened two weeks ago. Instead of Megan being injur
ed, it was Wyatt. This Green Woman had a lot to answer for.

  Megan helped Evan put the stretcher together and it took both of them to get Wyatt loaded on. The movement caused the leg to start bleeding again, fresh blood oozing out the side of the bandage. She rewrapped the injury, putting more pressure on the wound and added a layer of gauze over the top of the Israeli bandage. The last thing Wyatt and Evan needed was a predator following the blood trail he was sure to leave if they didn't bandage that wound.

  “See you at the lodge,” Wyatt told her. He tried to pretend as if everything was totally normal. His voice was strained and she could see him squeezing the sides of the stretcher, knuckles white. He was in serious pain.

  Megan nodded and tried to smile. She was unable to speak. Tears were forming in her eyes and her throat felt like it would close up altogether. Watching Evan drag him away was hard, but she knew what had to be done. Caitlin needed her.

  She shook off the sadness. It was time to bring her daughter home. Evan would get Wyatt back to the lodge. Rosie probably wouldn't be back yet, but Willow could help Wyatt. She hoped. The leg had looked terrible. Megan knew it was very serious and if they didn't get the bleeding to stop, Wyatt was in real trouble.

  She was carrying Caitlin's hunting rifle. She quickly checked to make sure the Crickett was loaded and set off in the direction of the smoke. She was prepared to shoot to kill if it came to it. No one was keeping her daughter away from her. No one.

  23

  Megan picked her way carefully toward the plume of smoke, shifting slowly through the pine needles to make sure she didn’t trigger an alarm or step on a bear trap. The boot felt like dragging a weighted ball around. No matter how careful she was, it was heavy and bulky and crushed everything underneath it. The vision of a bull in a china shop came to mind. Assuming that bull was wearing cement shoes.

  The trees blocked the plume of smoke from time to time, but she kept going in the direction she last saw it. She could smell the fire and knew she was getting closer. The fog had started to roll back in, which helped trap the smoke in the air working to her advantage.

  She knew she was close. The trees were super thick in the area and it was hazardous walking. There were stumps, large rocks and all kinds of prickly bushes springing up from the ground. It was almost impossible to see through the trees. Her main goal was to stay on her feet. She couldn't afford to injure herself. There would be no rescue this time.

  She began to get frustrated. When they had seen the smoke, it felt like they had been so close. She had been walking for close to thirty minutes and hadn't found the cabin or hut she was looking for. Everything started to blend. All the trees looked the same. The terrain looked the same and she was worried she was walking in circles rather than towards the smoke. She should have taken the guys’ attempts to teach her how to find the cardinal directions more seriously.

  It was time to stop and think for a second before she ended up completely lost and disoriented. Megan used an old trick her dad had taught her. She closed her eyes, opened them and then kind of let them go out of focus. She didn't see each individual tree or the pine needles scattered over the ground. The fallen logs blurred.

  There! She saw it. There was the faintest trail through the woods. The grass and bushes were slightly depressed. It was a very thin trail that zigzagged, making it difficult to identify. To the untrained eye, it didn't appear to be anything more than a part of the natural environment.

  She followed the trail and nearly whooped when she spotted it. Not fifteen feet away was what she had been looking for. A very tiny cabin, barely visible through the trees that had grown very close together, almost creating a wall.

  It was very rustic and with the thick trees surrounding it, it was easily missed. The roof was covered in moss, branches and pine needles. The cabin itself was an A-Frame with the sides extending nearly to the ground. There were small windows on each side.

  A small fire pit was shrouded by the trees. Megan spotted a large green barrel set up at the corner of the cabin. Clearly a rain barrel. The woman was smart and resourceful. They had suspected it, but now Megan knew it. She could probably survive up here for years, all by herself.

  Off to the back side of the cabin, she could see a shed of some sort. Maybe a barn? She didn't know, but she hoped she didn't have to search in there. It looked like it would collapse at any minute.

  The cabin looked very ramshackle as well. Megan imagined it had probably been here for several decades or more. With the amount of growth around the cabin, it was clear it had been relatively untouched.

  It was probably an old hunting cabin she mused or maybe some old hermit lived in it back in the seventies or something. She realized the previous residents didn't matter. Nor did it matter how long the stupid cabin had been here. What mattered was the woman who had claimed it. Megan was about to meet the person who had taken Caitlin.

  It was then a horrible thought crossed her mind. What if this woman didn't have Caitlin at all? She had already been wrong once. Megan had to hold back the panic that threatened to take over. If Caitlin wasn't here, Megan knew she was truly lost.

  No need to borrow trouble, she reminded herself. She could freak out after she determined Caitlin wasn't here. For now, it was all about getting inside. The woman was a fighter and wouldn't go down easy. Megan was ready. She owed the woman a good kick after what had happened at Evan's place.

  Obviously, finding a back door was unlikely, so her only chance was to barge in through the front. She doubted knocking would really get her far. It would only alert the woman inside that she was coming. Nope. She was going to rely on the element of surprise.

  She stared at the door covered by heavy growth and vines, which were meant to conceal it, she was sure. This was it. She was convinced Caitlin was beyond the door. It was the only thing keeping her from her baby girl. Her mother's instinct was pulling her to this spot. It gave her strength and the resolve needed to go through the door, not knowing what was on the other side.

  Megan used her left hand to feel around the door, trying to figure out how to open it and hoping she didn’t trigger some sort of booby trap. She found a knob hidden under some branches. Taking a deep breath and holding Caitlin's rifle in one hand she pushed the door in. It took her eyes a few seconds to adjust to the dim interior.

  The ceiling was incredibly low, barely six feet high if that and a lantern hung in the center. The ceiling height threw her off for a second. The pitch of the roof was misleading. Her eyes finally focused and she could see another door along the back wall.

  There was a ladder against the wall as well. She assumed it must lead to a loft, explaining the low ceiling height in the main room. Megan didn't waste any time looking around the small space. She walked directly to the door, once again turning the knob and kicking it open, with the rifle at the ready.

  Her eyes quickly found Caitlin lying on a bed in a dim room. The tiny window above the bed let in very little light. The woman she had fought with at Evan's camp was leaning over her daughter.

  No one moved. Megan stared at the woman dressed in green. The woman stared back at her, her eyes wide with shock. Caitlin's eyes darted back and forth between the two. Megan debated tackling the woman, but worried Caitlin would be injured in the fight that was sure to ensue; nor could she simply shoot the woman and risk hitting her daughter.

  “Step away from my daughter.”

  24

  The woman stood, holding her hands up. Her eyes appeared huge behind the thick lenses of the glasses she was wearing.

  Megan stepped forward, keeping the barrel of the gun pointed at the woman.

  “Get out. Don't touch her,” Megan commanded.

  “Mom?” Caitlin said. Her voice was hoarse.

  Megan looked at her daughter. Her breath caught in her lungs. She felt as if she couldn't breathe. Her daughter looked so frail on the bed. There was a candle burning on a small table next to the bed. It cast an eerie glow over Caitlin's face.
/>   She spent several seconds drinking in the sight of the little girl she had been missing so much. It was that small pause in her guard that the Green Woman took advantage of. She sprang forward, knocking the rifle out of Megan's hands.

  The woman kicked the gun away and attempted to tackle Megan to the ground. Megan pushed back, knocking the woman into the open doorway. Her glasses flew off her head. Before she had a chance to regain her footing, Megan rushed to the bedside and pulled Caitlin to her, shouting at the Green Woman to stay away from her daughter.

  Her adrenaline was pumping. She would fight this woman to the death if it meant saving her daughter. She was squeezing Caitlin tight, afraid to let go for fear she would never get the chance to hold her again.

  It was the sound of Caitlin's quiet voice that yanked her back from the brink of a rage attack. Caitlin was crying. Sobbing.

  “What's wrong? What's wrong, baby?”

  Megan pulled back a little and saw the over-sized white t-shirt Caitlin was wearing was quickly being stained with blood.

  “Oh no! What happened? Did I hurt you?” Megan was frantic, trying to find where the blood was coming from.

  “It's the stitches,” the woman in the corner said calmly. “Her cut must have opened up again.”

  The woman was on her knees, using one hand to feel in front and around her. Megan realized she was looking for her glasses. She wasn't about to tell the woman she was a few inches from the things. She wanted every advantage she could get. If that meant keeping the woman blind, so be it.

  Megan was confused, “Stitches?”

  Her one advantage was over. The woman found her glasses and quickly put them on, blinking several times to focus. She held up her hands and slowly walked forward.

  “She had a pretty deep gash. I stitched it up. It healed for the most part, but she developed an infection and it opened again. I was just cleaning it and reapplying a fresh bandage when you came in,” she explained.

  “Stay back,” Megan said. Her mind needed a minute to process what was happening. The woman had stitched her up?