Hope Survives

by Harley Tate

  The gun eased back enough for Walter to turn his head. Thanks to the flashlight beam in his face, he couldn’t see a thing. His rifle was snatched from his grip and a pair of meaty hands patted him all over before removing his handgun stashed in an appendix holster.

  “He’s clean.”

  The flashlight beam lowered and Walter tried to blink away the spots.

  “Start walking, buddy.”

  “I can’t see.”

  “You don’t need to see. You need to walk.” A gun barrel poked him again in the shoulder. Probably his own rifle. “Move.”

  Walter took one step and then another. Every so often, the rifle’s barrel would poke one of his shoulders and he would correct his path. The snowmobile revved behind him and darted out into the clearing. The single headlight lit up the tracks in front and Walter’s chest seized.

  The Jeep.

  It couldn’t have been more than two hundred yards ahead. Even from that distance, he could see the damage. Mangled hood. Broken axle. For all he knew, neither Brianna nor Madison survived the crash.

  He forced his feet to keep moving even though his heart willed him to stop. He didn’t want to know if his daughter was dead. He didn’t want to face that future. It was all his fault. He was the one who told her to go. He was the one who put her in harm’s way. If she and Brianna had stayed with the U-Haul, they would all be home now, safe and sound.

  But he told them to run. He’d been scared and foolish and now his daughter might be dead.

  The snowmobile pulled up alongside its twin and Donny swung his leg over the seat. He turned and waited for Walter and the man holding him at gunpoint to catch up.

  The man behind him jabbed the gun into the small of Walter’s back as they entered the headlight beam of the snowmobile. “That’s far enough.”

  Walter stopped. The man eased around him and Walter got a look at him for the first time. As big as Donny, but older. Bushy beard, skull cap pulled down tight over his head. Blood coated one leg and as he took another step Walter noticed an obvious limp.

  The man was injured. He turned to Walter. “You from the U-Haul?”

  “Don’t know what you’re talking about.” Walter clasped his naked hand with the one still wearing a glove. His fingers burned from the cold.

  “You ever seen this Jeep before?”

  Walter shook his head. “Nope.”

  The man looked him up and down. “I don’t believe you.”

  “Believe what you want. I was just out here, looking for something to scavenge. Saw the snowmobile and thought I’d take it.”

  “You got a cabin near here?”

  Walter shook his head. “I’m a nomad.”

  “No one scavenges in the middle of the night in the woods when it’s this cold.”

  “I do.”

  “Bullshit.” The man turned to his buddy. “Donny, drag ’em out. If he won’t admit to who he is the easy way, maybe we can change his mind.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  WALTER

  Woods north of Truckee, CA

  2:00 a.m.

  Donny yanked open the driver’s-side door to the Jeep. A shock of blonde curls fell out of the seat, followed by the slumped-over body of Brianna. She landed in a whoosh of snow.

  Walter swallowed. He couldn’t tell from that distance if Brianna was unconscious and alive or already dead. A purpling bruise spread out across her forehead and a goose egg the size of a tennis ball swelled above her temple.

  “Recognize her?”

  He leaned in. “Can’t say for sure.” His voice warbled and Walter bit the inside of his cheek. He had to keep them guessing. “I see a lot of strays in the woods.”

  “Bring out the other one.”

  Donny reached out and grabbed Brianna by the wrists. He dragged her over to the idle snowmobile and dumped her in the snow. Walter strained to listen. Was that a groan? He couldn’t hear over the rumble of the engine.

  He watched as Donny huffed back over to the Jeep and reached inside. Madison’s brown hair spilled over his arm as he dragged her headfirst out of the vehicle.

  Walter hissed. His daughter was injured. Blood clotted in her hair and stuck to her cheek. He wanted more than anything to rush to her and check for a pulse, but that meant death for both of them.

  Donny tilted her body toward him and let him stare at Madison’s face. She wasn’t pale or slightly blue and her body showed no signs of rigor. But that didn’t mean she was still breathing.

  Walter turned to the man with the gun. He hoped the sweat beading across his forehead didn’t give him away. “Don’t know her either.” He chose his next words carefully. “You found them like this?”

  “If you don’t know them, what do you care?”

  “Just curious.”

  Donny dragged Madison over to the snowmobile and dumped her next to Brianna. “Ain’t you ever heard of curiosity killed the cat?”

  “I’m not a cat.”

  “And I’m not an idiot.” The man with the gun stepped forward. “Who are you and who are these girls?”

  Walter took a step back and held up his hands. It took all his self-control not to charge, gun be damned. “I was just looking for something to steal. That’s all.”

  “Just shoot him and be done with it, Silas.” Donny could have been a five-year-old whining for ice cream. “My balls are about to fall off.”

  “Get that brown-haired one.” Silas motioned to Madison. “Haul her over here.”

  Walter clenched his fists. “I told you, I don’t know them.”

  “Then you won’t care what I do to them.” Silas waited while Donny hoisted Madison up and half-dragged her over.

  “Prop her up. I want him to get a real good look.”

  Donny gripped Madison around the waist and hauled her into a standing position. She sagged against his shoulder and her head lolled back. The sight of his daughter so fragile and unprotected kicked his heart into overdrive.

  Silas reached out with his free hand and stroked Madison’s cheek. “She’s a real beauty, this one. Helpful, too. She fixed up my leg when I was about to bleed out all over the back seat. But it turns out her friends did a real bad thing.”

  Walter sucked in a breath through clenched teeth, air sawing in and out as he teetered on the brink of losing control. “What’s that?”

  Silas reached out and grabbed a handful of Madison’s hair. “Maybe you know the story.” He twisted her hair in his fist and yanked.

  Madison moaned.

  Walter gave a start. Oh my God. She’s alive. Madison is alive. He fought down the rising emotion. Knowing she was alive changed everything. He had to concentrate and focus on Silas’s words. He had to find a way to save her.

  Silas kept talking, twisting Madison’s hair until it pulled at her scalp. “Silver Camaro full of weapons and ammo.” He lifted up Walter’s rifle. “Guns just like this. My father left last spring on a gun run and he never came home.”

  Walter reeled.

  Could it be? He thought back to the day that he stumbled across Colt in the forest. He’d found them after the car crash, but it didn’t take long for more men to show up looking. And they weren’t just any men, but members of Cunningham’s group. If the man in the Camaro was this bastard’s father, then Silas was a Cunningham, too.

  Madison was in much deeper danger than he’d thought.

  He tried to play it off. “Seems pretty crazy, if you ask me. The chances of running into your father’s killer out here in the woods.”

  Silas must have caught the shock on Walter’s face. He leaned forward, his lips brushing Madison’s cheek.

  Anger surged through Walter’s veins and he leaned in. “Stop it.” The words rushed out before Walter could hold them back.

  Silas turned to him, a smile on his lips. “Why? I thought she was a stray.”

  “She is.” Walter could barely speak. “Doesn’t mean I like you disrespecting women. She looks like a kid.”

  “Well, which
is she? A woman or a child?” Silas leaned in and took a sniff of Madison’s hair. “Smells like a woman to me.” He leaned down and unzipped her jacket. It fell open to reveal a tight-fitting sweater. He ran his hand down her front, pausing on her chest. “Feels like a woman.”

  Walter took a step forward. He would die before that man laid another hand on her. “I told you to stop.”

  Silas ran his tongue along the front of his teeth, pushing his lower lip out as he stared at Walter. “So is she your girlfriend or your daughter?”

  Walter snapped. The roar that rushed up his throat and burst from his lips sounded more animal than human. He rushed at the man holding Madison, but it was no use. Silas used his massive weight advantage to bust Walter across the head. The butt of the rifle landed hard on Walter’s temple and he slammed into the snow.

  His entire face was buried in the icy powder and he spit out a mouthful as he tried to breathe. Silas stepped over and kicked him in the side. Walter rolled over onto his back, clutching his head where the gun made impact.

  The whole world spun. Nausea threatened to turn his stomach inside out. He could barely see. His ears rung. He tried to lift his head, but the shooting pain forced him back to the ground. He couldn’t move, let alone stand.

  Donny whined again. “Just shoot him, man. This chick’s heavy.”

  “Complain again and we’ll have matching bullet wounds.”

  Walter rolled over to see Silas motion to the running snowmobile. “There’s a tarp in my saddlebag. Use it to wrap them up, then tie them to the back. They should fit on that rear rack just fine.”

  “What about him?”

  Silas smiled and turned to Walter. “Don’t worry. I’ve got something in mind.”

  With a gun digging into his throbbing temple, Walter managed only limited resistance as Donny tied his hands behind his back and propped him up against the closest tree.

  He sat in the snow, slowly regaining his faculties while Silas raided the Jeep and Donny wrapped Madison and Brianna in a tarp.

  Every minute that ticked by sharpened Walter’s senses and steeled his resolve. He wasn’t letting them leave. He would die before his daughter ended up at the mercy of the Cunningham clan.

  When Donny finished securing the girls to the snowmobile, they looked like a giant burrito that barely fit on the rack. One wrong move and Madison or Brianna would hit the ground or a tree and be dead on impact.

  Donny stomped over, chubby fingers wrapped around Walter’s own handgun. “Can I shoot him now?”

  Silas climbed up onto the seat of the snowmobile and turned to Donny. “Get that other snowmobile started and head out as soon as you can.”

  Donny turned in alarm. “What? You’re leaving without me?”

  “Not my fault it took you so long to load this precious cargo.” Silas looked back at the lumpy tarp. “Get your sled running. Wait for it to warm up and then follow me.”

  “What about him?”

  Silas grinned. “Leave him. He can freeze to death imagining all the fun we’re gonna have tonight.”

  Donny’s eyes widened. “Sweet.” He almost licked his lips. “I’ll be right behind you.” He hustled to the snowmobile and turned the key as Silas squeezed the gas. The snowmobile shot forward and Walter’s stomach heaved.

  I have to find a way. His head throbbed as he looked at Donny. Way heavier than Walter and armed with at least a handgun, the man posed a serious challenge. But with Silas driving off into the dark, Walter was out of options.

  He tugged on the rope holding his hands. It loosened but didn’t come free. While Donny climbed on the snowmobile, Walter rose up onto his knees and pushed his arms down as far as possible. Wiggling back and forth, he managed to slide his tied hands beneath his butt. Falling onto his back, he pulled first one leg and then the other through the loop of his arms.

  Sweat coated his face, but he could move and he didn’t have much time. The snowmobile was running. Walter clambered to his feet. It was only him and Donny now and Walter knew who was going to win.

  He charged at the big man leaning over the sled and hit him full force in the back. With an oof, Donny slammed into the handlebars. Walter kneed him in the back, one, two, three times, rocking with all his weight before striking again.

  Donny twisted around, fumbling with the gun, but Walter wasted no time. He scrambled up onto the seat of the snowmobile and scrabbled for Donny’s head. His arms looped over the man’s face and the rope still tied tight around his wrists jammed against Donny’s neck.

  Walter yanked hard enough to pull them both off the sled and into the snow. He tightened his grip on Donny’s neck, sawing the rope into the big man’s flesh. Donny rolled over him, kicking and flailing as Walter crushed his airway.

  Fingers clawed at Walter’s hand, digging in and ripping his frozen skin. Walter pulled the rope tighter. “You think you’re going to touch my daughter? That your hands would get within an inch of her skin?”

  Donny gurgled and Walter rolled him forward. The gun fell into the snow and Walter released his death grip. He slipped the rope off Donny’s neck and the big man gagged and coughed, his face purple from lack of oxygen. Walter dug the gun out of the snow and crawled over to Donny. He jammed the barrel so tight against his forehead, the skin around it turned white.

  “Where did Silas go?”

  Donny sputtered.

  “If you don’t tell me by the time I count to three, I’ll shoot you in the foot. One, two, three.”

  Walter whipped the gun down and stabbed the meaty part of Donny’s boot and fired. The guy screamed.

  “I’ve got fifteen rounds. When I’m done with your feet and hands, I’ll work my way up.”

  Tears streamed out of Donny’s eyes and he tried to speak. “He… took… them…” He erupted in a gurgling cough.

  Walter twisted around and shoved the gun against Donny’s other foot. “One.”

  “Donner… Lake. We live at the lake.”

  “Where exactly?”

  “An old motel. Donner Lake Motor Court.”

  “What’s your name?”

  “D-Donny.”

  “Your whole name.”

  “Donald Henry Cunningham.”

  Walter clamped his jaw shut. It was true. Madison and Brianna were on their way to Cunningham’s camp. The men who ambushed them on the road were part of Cunningham’s crew. It could always be worse, but in the moment, Walter wasn’t sure how.

  He lifted his gun off Donny’s boot, took aim, and buried two bullets in his skull.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  TRACY

  Northwoods Boulevard

  3:00 a.m.

  “Did you hear that?”

  “Sounded like gunshots.”

  “A pair.” Tracy pointed toward the forest. “From that direction.”

  Peyton crouched low behind a snowmobile turned on its side. “You think we should check it out?”

  Tracy clicked off her flashlight and plunged the road into darkness. Without a moon that night, the forest darkened the road to the point of blindness and she blinked, barely able to tell when her eyes were open or closed. She slid over to Peyton, boots kicking up gravel and bits of asphalt as she hid.

  A low hum sounded in her right ear and Tracy shook her head. “Is that an engine?”

  Peyton’s parka rustled beside her. “Maybe. Too quiet to tell.”

  Tracy didn’t like it. They had managed to find the scene of the shootout without too much trouble, but since then, their search had been hopeless. Hours of driving up and down the roadway in Ben’s shot-up F-150 followed by more hours on foot.

  Without Colt or Larkin to guide them, it was impossible. Tracks led off in almost every direction from the road. Tracy had followed one set for hours, convinced it would lead them straight to Walter and Madison. It turned out to be a wild goose chase, leading them at last right back to where they started on the road. All they knew was that Walter was on a snowmobile and the girls were in the Jeep. It
simply wasn’t enough to go on.

  Tracy exhaled and listened to the mechanical hum. “I think it’s coming our way.” She shifted her weight on her feet and reached for a shotgun hanging from a strap across her body. “We should be ready. If that’s one of the men from the ambush coming back, we need to catch him and find out where they’re from.”

  She steadied herself, gripping the shotgun tight in her thin gloves, waiting. The hum turned into a groan and grunt of an engine. Moments later, a single headlight pierced the tree line. Tracy held her breath.

  The snowmobile headed for the road, headlight wobbling this way and that.

  “I don’t think that’s one of the men.” Peyton’s voice was full of doubt. “He doesn’t look like a good driver.”

  Tracy pressed her lips together. She refused to let the hope pawing at her insides in. She couldn’t risk the disappointment if the driver heading their way wasn’t Walter.

  At last, the vehicle broke through the trees, headlight blinding, as it turned. It shimmied in the roughed-up snow beside the road, bouncing over tracks from the skirmish. As the driver tried to accelerate toward the north and the rising terrain, the snowmobile bucked.

  One ski came off the ground. The driver leaned the wrong way and as Tracy and Peyton watched, the whole sled flipped over and landed in the snow. The tread on the back kept spinning, flinging bits of ice into the air.

  “Come on,” Tracy whispered to Peyton as she eased into the road. “Let’s get a better look.”

  Peyton followed a few steps behind as Tracy made her way closer and closer to the upended vehicle. As she cleared the back end, a man emerged from the snow. He shut off the snowmobile and cursed himself.

  Tracy recognized the voice. “Walter? Is that you?”

  The man spun around and lifted a pair of glasses off his eyes. “Tracy?”

  She ran for him, high stepping through the snow, until she collided with his sturdy frame. “Thank God you’re all right.” She wrapped her arms around him and squeezed.

  “I won’t be much longer if you crush my lungs.”