Through the Mountains

by Kelvin Teo

  A few seconds later, she saw it. The old, rattle-trap truck of the Morgan brothers, heading up the road toward the convenience store.

  After it went past, she gasped, "What are we going to do?"

  He watched as the truck’s rear lights disappeared around a curve.

  "We’re going to wait until he goes back down the mountain. We don’t want to be stuck on the road somewhere where we can’t get off and hidden."

  When he was sure there was no danger on the road, Danny stood up and said, "Let’s get a little further away from the road."

  They moved another fifty yards away and found a spot behind some brush, where they could see the road and watch for the truck to come back down.

  "How did he come up that road?" asked Lizzie. "That truck was outside the garage when we left this morning."

  "I’m guessing there is another road out of the canyon and they used it to come around."

  They sat in the darkness and watched. Danny figured it would take about five to ten minutes for the Morgans to get to the convenience store and then around to the bridge. With slowing down to look, it would probably take about half an hour before the truck came back.

  Fishing around in the pack, he pulled out a couple of energy bars and some water and the two of them had a nice, moonlit picnic on the side of the hill.

  Close to the time he figured they’d hear something, they heard the truck coming back down the road. They could see the glow of the headlights up the narrow road, flashing between trees every few seconds.

  "Danny, there’s someone else coming up the road."

  He looked to the east and saw another set of headlights coming. As they watched, the truck began to slow and came to a stop even with where they were hiding. Within a few seconds, the second vehicle pulled up alongside the truck.

  Danny’s heart stopped when he saw the SUV. It had a light bar on top and there was a shield on the door. On the back quarter panel, right over the wheel, he saw the gold letters of the word SHERIFF.

  "Holy shit! That’s the sheriff," whispered Lizzie.

  "Quiet," said Danny softly. "When the Morgans leave, we can try to get the sheriff’s attention, but we need to wait until they leave."

  They watched and saw the sheriff get out of his vehicle and walk over to the truck. Whoever was driving the truck, cut the engine and the night became quiet as could be. They could hear what was being said because the sound was traveling well on this silent, breezeless night.

  "Did you see them?" asked the sheriff.

  "Not from here all the way to the bridge," said Zeke.

  Danny felt Lizzie squeeze his hand and he wondered if she was thinking the same thing he was.

  "Maybe they made it out of here," said the sheriff.

  "You better hope not," said Zeke. "Mama won’t be too pleased with any of us if they get away."

  "I could have the dogs brought out, but then I’d have to explain why we need them. Not to mention we have no idea where to start looking for their trail."

  "We need to keep the number of people that know about them as small as we can."

  The sheriff went to say something, but stopped. He stepped out and looked around the windshield of the truck, toward the side of the hill.

  Somewhere, up in the trees, there was a cell phone ringing.

  Danny was frantically trying to get to the cell phone so he could shut it off, but it was buried at the bottom of one of the pockets.

  "Hurry, Danny!"

  When he finally reached it, he hit the REJECT button on the screen and the phone went silent. Then he realized his error. The light from the screen was lighting up his face and was casting a nice shine all around him.

  They looked back toward the road and saw the sheriff had come around the truck and was looking up the hill. Both of the Morgan brothers piled out of the truck and joined him in searching for the source of the sound.

  "I know I heard what sounded like a cell phone," said the sheriff.

  "It might have been a phone someone lost out there and it just rang."

  "Oh right, Ricky," said Zeke. "and how long ago do you suppose this someone lost the phone? And how long has it held a charge?"

  "You two, knock it off," said the sheriff. "Zeke, you go that way, Ricky, over here and I’ll go up the middle. Let’s take a little walk through the trees."

  Danny and Lizzie watched as the three of them walked down off the road and started toward the tree line.

  "We gotta get out of here," he said softly.

  He threw the pack over his shoulders and grabbed Lizzie’s hand. He started moving as quietly as he could to the east, trying to get away from the area before the three made it to that spot.

  They were making a lot more noise than he wanted, but they had to move. If they could put some distance between them, they could find a place to hide and wait for them to go away.

  "I hear something!" yelled Ricky.

  Danny gripped Lizzie’s hand tighter and pulled her along. He could feel the attackers breathing down their necks and he was screaming in his mind to move faster. His desire to move faster proved to be their downfall.

  As he ran through the trees, trying to see in the dim moonlight, Lizzie tripped over a root and went sprawling across the ground. She groaned as she hit the ground and Danny stopped to help her up.

  He could hear some heavy footsteps coming after them and he tried to get her moving again. Before he could begin running again, a dark figure ran toward him and knocked him to the ground. He looked up and saw the crazed face of Ricky.

  As he struggled with him, Danny yelled, "Run Lizzie!"

  She turned and took two steps before stopping and looking up. She was staring down the barrel of the sheriff’s pistol.

  "That will be far enough, little lady."

  Zeke finally reached the group and Danny yelled at him, "You won’t get away with this. I just told someone where we were on the phone and they will come looking for us!"

  Zeke didn’t even stop. He walked right up to Danny and kicked him in the face. Danny saw nothing, but the toe of the big guy’s boot and then total darkness. The last thing he heard before losing consciousness was Ricky saying, "Great, now we have to carry him out of here."

  "No, we don’t," laughed Zeke. "We could just kill him and leave him here for the animals to tear him apart."

  Lizzie screamed and that was the last thing Danny heard.

  11

  A streak of sunlight shined through a gap in the wood siding and beamed straight into his eyes. Danny winced as the light hit his eyes and he shook his head, trying to clear the cobwebs. He raised his head and looked around.

  He was in what looked like a tool shed and his hands were bound over his head. He was standing with his back to a post and he could feel something tied around his waist. He was completely immobilized in this little prison.

  He tried to pull his hands free, but found he was bound pretty solidly. Having his hands tied to the post over his head meant he didn’t have any leverage.

  Moving his jaw back and forth, he felt a sharp pain from where Zeke had kicked him. He tried to figure out if it was broken. He could still move it and didn’t feel any grinding or looseness, so he decided it wasn’t broken, but it hurt like hell.

  His nose also hurt more than anything he’d ever felt before and somewhere in the back of his head he heard a voice say, "Yeah, it’s broken."

  Great, I’m going to have a crooked nose for the rest of my life. However long that’s going to be.

  He started working his hands and wrists, trying to see if he could loosen the ropes that were tying him to the post. The more he worked them, the more pain he felt and then he knew he was rubbing his wrists raw.

  He stopped moving when he heard someone unlocking the door to the shed. Dropping his head to his chest, he closed his eyes. If he pretended to still be unconscious, they might say something that could help him.

  The door swung open and sunlight flooded the shed and he heard two sets
of feet stomp onto the wooden floor.

  "Wake your ass up!" said Zeke as he slapped Danny across the face.

  Danny jerked back and acted like he was clearing his head. Looking past Zeke, he saw Ricky standing in the door, sipping on a beer.

  "Where’s Lizzie?" he yelled. "What have you done with her and Ali?"

  Zeke punched him in the gut, knocking the breath from his lungs.

  "Shut up!"

  As Danny coughed and tried to catch his breath, Zeke got right in his face.

  "I’m so happy we got blondie back. We were quite sad when we thought we had lost her. She’ll provide a lot of entertainment this evening when the moon rises."

  "What are you going to do with her?"

  "You just let your imagination run riot. Seven or eight big mountain boys like me and my brother. We’re going to make a mess of that pretty little body of hers."

  Zeke stepped back and just grinned at Danny.

  "We’ll also make sure you have a really good view of the party," said Ricky. "I’m sure you’ll love it."

  Danny felt like he was going to be sick. Then he raged against the ropes holding him, trying to summon the strength to break free.

  "You can try to break those ropes all you want," said Ricky. ‘They have held many others, some even stronger than you. And every one of those guys got to watch their lady friends used as sex dolls by the group. Lizzie is going to be a real treat."

  He stared daggers at Ricky, wishing he could just reach out and rip his heart from his chest.

  "You touch her and I will kill you myself."

  Zeke laughed, "Now, is that any way to talk to the guy that saved your life? I wanted to just kill you last night, but my brother didn’t think that would be very sporting of me."

  Danny lowered his head and looked through some evil eyes at Ricky.

  "Thank you for not killing me. That will allow me to watch you die screaming."

  Zeke punched him again in the gut and would have driven him to his knees if he wasn’t tied so tightly to the post.

  "As for your other friend, Ali was it? She’s going to be a sacrifice to Lucifer, himself. We just hope he won’t be disappointed with the small scar on her arm."

  She’s still alive?

  Then the two brothers turned and walked out of the shed, closing the door behind them and locking it.

  "Do you think she’s a virgin?" he heard Ricky ask Zeke.

  "I doubt it. These young kids these days fuck like rabbits."

  As they were walking away, Ricky said, "Pity. It would be nice to nail a virgin."

  Danny struggled to catch his breath as he felt some tears running down his cheeks.

  I’m so sorry, Lizzie and Ali. Clark, where the hell are you?

  Stretching back up to his full height, he began to work his hands again, praying for anything that would help him break free.

  He could feel blood starting to run from his wrists and soaking into the ropes. He began to wonder how much blood he could lose before he died, but then realized his hands were above his head. Not much chance of bleeding out in that position.

  It took nearly an hour, but he was able to work a hand free. He almost passed out when he lowered that arm and found out just how long he had been tied up. Stifling a groan, he let the blood flow down into the arm and begin to put some feeling back into it. The sting of a thousand pins and needles poked at his fingertips.

  After a few minutes, he was able to pull his other hand free and had to go through the pain all over again. While he moved his arms around, trying to make sure they were going to function again, he was able to reach behind himself and find the knot of rope that was tied around his waist.

  After getting free from the post, he moved quietly around the shed, trying to figure out what his situation was. Being a tool shed, he found quite a few things hanging on the walls and saw some that would make good weapons. As he looked them over, he began to realize quite a few of them were covered in what appeared to be blood.

  Sneaking over to the door, he was able to see through a gap in the wood. The shed was situated on the edge of a clearing and it didn't take, but a second to realize it was the small meadow he and the others had found a couple of days ago. He could even see one of the trees that had the satanic symbols painted on it in blood.

  He listened and couldn't hear anything out of the ordinary. Just the chirping of a few birds.

  Quietly, he lifted the inside latch on the door and pushed, but as he feared, it was padlocked on the outside. The last thing he wanted to do was start trying to break out of the shed and making a bunch of noise.

  Moving to the back of the shed, he found some gaps in the wood and saw he was only a few dozen yards from a steep hillside that was covered with trees. He knew that was going to be his best avenue for escape, if he could get out of the shed.

  Checking through both sidewalls of the shed, it appeared there was no one around the area. Judging by the light outside, he thought it to be about noon, meaning he only had about five hours to get out and come up with a plan to rescue the girls before it got dark.

  Checking the back wall again, he found a couple of boards that looked like they could be taken off with the right kind of persuasion. He looked at the tools hanging on the walls and found a crowbar.

  When he pulled it down from the wall, he could feel the crusty blood under his fingers and it was everything he could do not to puke all over the floor. After calming his stomach, he set the curved end of the bar into a small space between the wood plank of the wall and a cross beam and pried.

  As the wood began to move and push the nails out, they creaked with the sound of age and he stopped for a second. He wasn't sure how loud it was, but any sound might carry for a long ways up here.

  He held his breath and listened, but didn't hear anything. No signs of someone coming to investigate what the noise was or to check on him. Maybe this crowd of devil worshipers were busy elsewhere, preparing for their night of celebration.

  He pried again and the nails came free from the post. He was able to push the plank outward and get a better look at his surroundings. With the woods just a few feet away, he knew he could get to them and be hidden from any roving eyes.

  Looking at the gap he had created, he knew he was going to need to loosen at least two more planks, maybe three.

  The next two planks came away easier than the first and he tried squeezing through the gap, but it became clear he needed one more. The only problem was, the planks on either side of the gap were right behind studs and were going to be harder to get at.

  He tried the first one, but couldn't get the crowbar into a good position to pry. The second plank was a little easier to work with, but when he started prying on it, the wood started to split, making even more noise than the rusty nails made.

  He winced every time the wood cracked as it split and prayed there was no one near enough to hear what he was doing.

  After about five minutes, he was able to push the plank, but to his horror, the upper nails let loose and the plank fell to the ground, making more noise than he thought possible.

  Shit! It couldn't fall onto nice, soft dirt. It had to be rocks.

  Again, he held his breath and listened. When no one came looking, he began to realize this meadow was so far from the motel and garage, he could make all the noise he wanted and they wouldn't hear it.

  Stepping to the gap, he found it was going to be easy for him to get out. But first, he didn't want to leave empty handed.

  He started searching the tools in the new light he had and saw quite a few things that would make great weapons. He also found a small, canvas bag he could use to carry whatever he took. He began stuffing it full of tools, like claw hammers, screwdrivers, punches and even a couple of wrenches.

  Looking at the shelves over a crude workbench, he found a couple of rolls of duct tape and some coils of rope. And the prize, was a utility knife with a nice, sharp blade. As he stuffed everything in the bag, he began to ge
t an inkling of an idea for how to use the items he was taking.

  Zipping the bag up, he looked around to see if there was anything else he could use, but didn't see anymore candidates.

  Stepping through the gap and into the sunlight, he crept to the edge of the shed and looked across the clearing. For the time being, he was the only person in the area and he wanted to use his alone time to come up with a plan.

  He stopped to try to put the planks back where they belonged. He kicked as quietly as he could, with the toe of his boot, getting the nails to go back into the holes they had come out of. He wasn’t sure why he was bothering, but he wanted the brothers to spend as much time trying to figure out how he got away, hoping to buy himself a few extra minutes.

  Then again, if they were too stupid to figure out how he got away and it confused them, that would be icing on the cake.

  Heading up the hill and into the trees, he started to feel much safer. Until he got a little higher on the hill. Turning around, he had a clear view of the meadow and saw what appeared to be an altar in the middle. There were about a dozen flat rocks arranged in a circle around the alter, spanning about twenty feet across.

  The altar was a long, flat slab of concrete, probably about eight feet long and about four feet high. It didn't take great eye sight to see the altar stone had dried blood staining the side of it.

  It took him about two minutes before he could tear his eyes away from the sight. He was horrified at the thought the Morgans had been doing this for some time and there was no telling how many people had lost their lives to them.

  Turning, he headed up the hill until he was well hidden by the trees. Once he was far enough out to feel safe, he turned and headed to the west, trying to stay as quiet as he could.

  Working his way toward the afternoon sun, he wanted to go far enough and then cut down from the hill and get to the other side of the road. From the other side he’d be able to see the front of the motel and the garage. He was hoping to be able to see where the girls were being held and then come up with a plan to free them. He just hoped there would be enough cover to keep him hidden while he looked.

  It took him about five minutes to get far enough up the road he knew he wouldn’t be seen as he ran across the asphalt. Stopping just short of the edge of the road, hiding behind a bush, he listened to see if there were any vehicles that might come down the road. At this point, he wasn’t willing to trust anyone that might come along. For all he knew, it would be one of the mountain boys Ricky had talked about and he didn’t want to have to deal with them.