by Susan Stoker
“Yeah, she will. We just have to recognize it for what it is when she gives us the signal.”
18
Erin’s head hurt. She tried to lick her lips, but had absolutely no moisture in her mouth. It took her no more than a couple of moments to remember everything. She immediately tugged on her arms, expecting to find them secured to the cot, just as they had been every other time she’d woken up from whatever drug the man had been using on her.
But this time, she could freely move her arms.
She tested her legs and found that they were similarly unbound.
She immediately turned on her side and curled into a tight ball. It felt so good to be able to move and not be stuck on her back, at the mercy of the man she’d begun to call “cyborg” in her mind. With his bald head, his penchant for talking to himself and not to her, and his coldness, he was what she imagined an unemotional, robotic cyborg might be like.
She opened her eyes—and blinked in surprise. She wasn’t inside the tent anymore. She was lying on the dirt out in the open. Well, sort of.
Sitting up, Erin kept her knees drawn up to hide her body. She was inside a cage…or maybe a corral was a better word for it. The fence around her was tall, probably around ten feet. There was a cover over the top as well, preventing her from climbing out.
Looking around, Erin didn’t recognize much of anything. Trees and scrub bushes, that was about it.
“Get up.”
The man’s low tone surprised her, and Erin scrambled to her feet and stared at him. He looked the same as he had every other time she’d woken up. Very tall, probably about six and a half feet, and big. He was very muscular. He was wearing the same camouflage clothes as every time she’d seen him. His head shone brightly in the sunlight. Erin briefly wondered if he shaved and oiled it to make it look like that.
“You have a bucket of water there,” the man said, pointing to the side of her cage. “And food. Walk around.”
Erin blinked. “What?”
“Walk around,” he repeated.
She shook her head and gripped the fence behind her tighter. “No.”
“I want to make sure you’re not limping on that ankle.”
“Why do you care? What are you going to do?”
“I said. Walk. Around,” the man bit out.
The change in his demeanor scared the shit out of Erin, but she nonetheless shook her head. If he wanted her to do something, it probably wasn’t in her best interest to comply, no matter the consequences.
The man stared at her for a long moment, then walked away and bent to a bag on the ground.
Erin held her breath. She was looking around her jail cell, trying to find a way out, when she heard the cyborg’s footsteps.
He was walking toward her carrying a pistol.
“Oh my God,” Erin breathed—then started begging for her life. “Please don’t kill me! Don’t. I have a life, friends. A boyfriend. I don’t want to die!”
He fired the gun, and Erin scrunched her eyes closed and flinched.
When she didn’t feel any pain, her eyes popped open again.
The cyborg motioned to the ground at her feet. A small dart was stuck in the dirt.
“I said, walk around.”
She looked up into his absolutely emotionless face. “And if I don’t?”
“I’ll shoot you with the dart and drug you again.”
Erin licked her lips. She didn’t like being at this man’s mercy. So far all he’d done was doctor her ankle, feed her, and give her water. But untying her and moving her outside to this…pen…wasn’t giving her warm fuzzies. She’d much rather be awake and conscious. She couldn’t escape if she was passed out.
She tentatively took a step away from the back of the cage, to the side.
“Again,” the man demanded.
She took another step.
“Faster,” he ordered.
Erin shook her head. “I did as you asked.”
Without a word, the man shot another dart at her.
Erin screeched and leaped to the side. She felt the end of the dart hit her upper arm as it went by.
The man grinned. And it was the evilest thing Erin had ever seen.
He raised the gun again. Erin quickly ran to the other side of the small enclosure.
The cyborg kept the gun trained on her and said simply, “If you stop moving, I’ll hit you.”
So Erin moved. She ran from one side of the cage to the other. Then to the front and to the back. She even started running in circles. Through it all, she kept one eye on the cyborg. He never changed position and kept the pistol aimed at her as she moved.
“What’s the point?” she asked, still moving. “I can’t go anywhere.”
“There’s no sportsmanship in killing an animal who can’t escape, you’re right.”
Erin stopped at the back of the cage, the farthest away from the man she could get, and stared at him in horror. She was breathing hard, both from the exercise and adrenaline. Was he saying what she thought he was saying?
“Does it hurt?”
“What?”
“Does your ankle hurt?”
Erin hadn’t even thought about her ankle. All she’d been worried about was the asshole shooting her. Even knowing she was practically naked wasn’t fazing her at the moment. Interesting how, when her life was flashing before her eyes, she didn’t care if the man saw her scars or her body. Hell, someone should’ve suggested this as a treatment long before now.
“No. It doesn’t hurt.”
“Good. That means it’s almost time.”
“Oh shit. Please, let me go. Please!”
Instead of responding to her plea verbally, the man fired the gun again.
The dart sank into her shoulder and Erin shrieked, both with pain and surprise. She grabbed the dart and yanked it out of her body, but it was too late. She could feel whatever drug was in the needle start to make its way through her bloodstream.
“Fuck, not again,” she murmured, going to her knees in the dirt.
The cyborg walked up to the cage and kneeled. “One more sleep, wildcat. Then the hunt is on.”
Erin was getting very tired of waking up after being drugged. This time, however, she woke because she was being strangled.
Her eyes popped open and she automatically reached for her throat and tugged at whatever was around it.
She scrambled to get to her feet and the Cyborg smirked at her.
Erin tugged at the collar around her neck and winced when the man jerked at the leash he was holding, and clearly had been dragging her with. She lost her balance and went down to her knees.
“Stay down,” the man ordered.
Ignoring him, Erin stood. He yanked on the leash again, and once more, Erin was pulled to her knees.
“Down. Stay.”
Hating that she was being treated like a dog, Erin stayed down this time. She needed to bide her time. Looking around, she saw no evidence of the cage or tent. In fact, she saw nothing but wilderness. She was still wearing her panties and bra, but the man had put her boots and socks back on her feet.
A sloshing sound made her turn her attention back to the cyborg. He placed a bowl of water on the ground in front of her. Then a second bowl with what had to be another MRE meal…this time mushed up until it was unrecognizable.
“Eat,” he ordered.
Erin stared up at him. Was he serious?
He yanked on the leash and Erin threw her hands out to catch herself so she didn’t land on her face. She was on all fours now.
“Eat,” he repeated. “You’re going to need your strength.”
Erin glared up at him, but reached for the bowl of water with one hand.
“No,” the man barked, yanking on the infernal leash once more. Erin knew she was going to have a horrific bruise around her throat from the collar by the time he was done with her. “No hands.”
How was she supposed to eat or drink without them?
As if he could re
ad her mind, the cyborg snarled, “Like an animal.”
“Oh, fuck no,” Erin muttered and began to sit up.
But the man was too fast. He had his hand around the back of her neck before she could get to her feet. He forced her down until her face was over the bowl of food. He pressed harder, and no matter how much Erin struggled, she couldn’t prevent him from pushing her face into the food.
“Eat,” he ordered in a deadly tone.
So she did. With the cyborg’s hand on the back of her neck, Erin ate the food in the bowl like a dog. She even licked the bowl at his command when she was done. The man let go and smiled cruelly down at her, and then he motioned to the water with his head.
Hating him more than she’d hated anyone in her entire life, Erin did as he ordered. She hated him even more than she’d hated her mother when she’d made Erin cry by telling her it was her fault her dad left. Even more than the mean girls in high school who’d called her Eat-more Erin. Even more than the principal who had fired her by saying nonchalantly, “You’re just too fat to be able to do your job.”
She lapped at the water in the bowl with her eyes shut, concentrating on getting the fluid into her body, rather than on what the cyborg hoped to accomplish with his attempt to humiliate her.
He jerked at the leash suddenly, surprising her. Water she’d been about to swallow shot out of her mouth and she coughed, trying to catch her breath.
“Come on, you’ve had enough.” He pulled on the leash, not giving her time to stand. So she crawled after him, scraping her knees and hands on the harsh, rocky ground under her. He didn’t pull her far, just to the edge of a long drop-off.
Erin held her breath. Had she made it this far, only to be thrown off the small cliff? There was no way she’d survive the fall. She stayed on her knees, thinking it would be easier to try to keep her balance if she had a lower center of gravity.
But he didn’t pick her up and try to throw her off. In fact, he dropped the leash he’d been holding. Erin tensed but stayed where she was. When he didn’t make a move toward her at all, she cautiously sat up, keeping her eyes on the cyborg as he stood facing outward, his hands behind his back. He stood there as if he didn’t have a care in the world.
Erin wanted to smash his bald head in and watch his brains splat out all over the ground, but she kept her attention on him, like the wild animal he’d accused her of being, not trusting him enough to take her eyes off him for one second.
“Your fate is in your own hands, wildcat. In a couple minutes, you’re going to run. Faster than you’ve ever run in your life. Your goal is to evade capture—by me.” He turned then, and stared down at her with his cold, dead eyes. “You won’t succeed, but the chase will amuse me. You see…I’m the hunter, and you’re the prey.”
“Why bother letting my ankle heal? And giving me water and food?”
“To make sure you were a worthy opponent. I’ve been doing this for quite a while now. At first I didn’t care. I let my prey run no matter what shape they were in. But the weak and injured were too easy to catch. It wasn’t a challenge.”
Erin was horrified, but couldn’t get any words out to save her life.
“I’ve tried all sorts of combinations. Men. Women. Children. But most didn’t last more than a mile before I caught up with them and made my kill. I’ve tried to make it interesting. I took all the clothes from one woman, but she didn’t even make it a few steps outside my camp before coming back and begging for her life. She was too embarrassed to run naked. I made one man run without his shoes, but he was so weak, the first rock he stepped on made him falter and I caught up to him within minutes. But I’ve learned.”
“You killed them?”
“Of course I killed them. I’m a hunter, after all. It’s what I do. But I figured out that leaving my prey with their undergarments and shoes gives them a feeling of security. Makes them think they have a chance. And it allows them to evade me…for a while.”
“Please, don’t do this,” she whispered.
He ignored her as if she hadn’t spoken.
“I’ve perfected my methods. I’ve done this all over the United States. My favorite hunting grounds are in the northwest…Oregon, Washington. But the forests up there are thick, there’re too many places to hide. And hunting in the snow isn’t as much fun because of the footprints my prey leave behind…leads me right to them.”
“You’re sick,” Erin told him.
He acted as if he didn’t hear her. “I use campsites to stake out my prey. I cull the strongest of the herd, and the least likely to be missed. Then I release the animal and hunt. Your goal is to evade me; you can’t, but the fun is in your trying. My weapon of choice is a crossbow. It’s more challenging to kill with one shot. I’m still working on that. It’s soundless, so as not to alert the authorities or nosy civilians who don’t understand the excitement of hunting. I’ve found, over the years, that animals are no longer a challenge. They can’t really think, can’t reason. And in order for me to feel fulfilled, I need a challenge. Are you ready?”
“What? No!” Erin said, looking up at him with wide eyes.
He stalked toward her then, leaning down. Erin fell on her butt and tried to crab walk backwards to get away from him. He jerked the leash he’d just grabbed and halted her movements. He leaned into her and she tried not to gag on the smell of body odor that wafted off him.
“This hunt is to the death, wildcat. There is no time limit. The game ends when you’re dead. Ready? Set. Go!” He unclipped the leash from the collar around her neck and took a step away from her.
Erin sat on the ground, her muscles refusing to move.
The cyborg nudged her with the toe of his boot. “Go on. Git!”
Slowly, Erin pulled her feet under her, thankful that he’d let her keep her hiking boots. She hadn’t really thought about it before, but yeah, not having them would seriously impede anyone running through this part of the wilderness.
She stood and took one step away from him, half expecting him to lunge at her, laughing that he was just kidding and was actually going to throw her off the cliff. But he didn’t. He merely stood there, staring at her with his arms crossed.
Glancing behind her, Erin saw nothing but scrub bushes and tall, spindly trees. The ground was uneven and rocky, but it didn’t even register.
“Run, bitch,” the man growled, then took a menacing step toward her.
It was all the incentive she needed. Erin whipped around and ran for her life.
19
“Tell Cade and the other firefighters not to come out here,” Conor told Beth.
“They want to help.”
“I know, and I appreciate it, but right now there’s nothing to help with. We don’t have any clues.”
“So, I was talking to Tex about this,” Beth said, “and he agreed that while there might not be anything I can do right now to track Erin, I can look into the past.”
“What do you mean?” Conor asked, shifting on his tired feet. He was going to crash…and he hated it. He didn’t want to sleep. What if he missed Erin’s signal because he was sleeping? He’d stayed awake longer than this before on an important stakeout, he could keep going for a while longer.
“Someone took her. We know that. But we don’t know who. But assholes generally don’t start out their life of crime with stealing people. They might start out by shoplifting. Or holding up a gas station. Kidnapping is a huge risk, so whoever did it probably has either done it before, or they’ve at least done something to get on the wrong side of the law.”
“Yeah,” Conor agreed, perking up. “You’re right.”
“I know. So I started searching for kidnappings in the area in the last year.”
“And?”
“Nothing. At least nothing resembling this.”
Conor’s shoulders slumped. “What the fuck, Beth? Did you just bring it up to give me hope, only to shut me down and make me feel even more shitty than I did two minutes ago?”
�
��What? No!” Beth exclaimed. “Jeez, all you guys are the same, jumping to conclusions. Let me finish. So, I didn’t find anything in the last year in the area, but I expanded my search parameters. I thought maybe I was being too narrow. I looked not in just the last year, but in the last ten. And I expanded where I was looking…I went wide, looking across the entire country.”
“Jesus. You’re never going to find anything related to Erin that way. You must’ve had thousands of hits.”
“Eighty-four thousand, four hundred and twenty-three,” Beth said matter-of-factly.
“What?”
“That’s how many missing person’s reports there were. But I channeled my hero Penelope Garcia and started weeding them out. Taking out the people who were found, the ones whose perpetrators were behind bars…that sort of thing.”
“And?” Conor asked impatiently when she finished speaking.
“It’s weird. The final results don’t seem to have any pattern to them, but maybe that is the pattern.”
“Details,” Conor ordered. “Come on, Beth, I’ve got a meeting here in a couple of minutes.”
“Right. I looked at the cases that were left, and the victims are all over the map. Teenagers, an eight-year-old kid, a grandmother, men who ranged in ages from twenty-two to forty-seven. They’re also all over the place. A few up in Washington, three in Oregon, two in Nevada, one from Barstow, California, and a few in the Midwest.”
“So they’re not related,” Conor said, sighing.
“I didn’t say that,” Beth said, her voice rising in excitement. “Every one of the victims disappeared from a campground.”
“No shit?”
“No shit. And there’s more.”
“What?”
“Not all the bodies were found, some are still open missing person’s cases, but the ones that were found were all discovered in the same area where they disappeared. They were all killed with either a high-velocity bullet or…” She paused.
“What, Beth?”
“An arrow.”
“An arrow,” Conor echoed. “What the fuck?”
