Beyond Revenge (The Ransom Series)

by A. T. Douglas

  Using the narrow end of the leg of the bed in my hand, I poke through the hole in the door and push the door handle on the other side all the way through until it falls to the floor. I drop the leg and sneak my right hand through the newly created hole, readjusting to extend my reach up enough to grab and turn the knob on the deadbolt lock. I pull the door toward me, and it actually moves.

  I’m free.

  The early morning sun is low in the sky, its light beaming directly through the parted curtains of the window so that it blinds me as I reach the top of the stairs from the basement. My eyes have trouble adjusting, but once they do, I finally get to see what kind of place I’ve been living in for over three months.

  It looks like a simple cabin. Exposed wood beams run the full length of the ceiling to match what looks like homemade wooden furniture in the living room and dining area as well as rustic cabinets in the kitchen. It’s a homey space with a fireplace, wool blankets, and various knickknacks all around. One would never know that a madman has been living here with a pregnant girl held captive in his basement.

  I glance at the two empty bedrooms in the adjacent hallway before my eyes locate the door that leads outside. When I unlock it and throw it open, the beautiful fresh air of early spring touches my skin and breezes through my hair. With just a few steps out onto the porch, I feel the morning sun touching my body with its rays, enveloping me, showering me with its warmth and comfort that I’ve been kept from for so long.

  I almost don’t know what to do next. I’ve thought so much about being free of this place but not about what I’d do if I ever actually got the chance to escape.

  My surroundings are intimidating: and endless sea of mountains around me, dipping into valleys and rising up into peaks, thick with trees in some areas and sparse with trees in others, void of civilization everywhere I look. There are no other vehicles here, no garage that would have a bike or ATV. It’s just the brown cabin sitting atop a hill surrounded by forest. I don’t really have much choice.

  So I run.

  I keep my broken left hand pulled close to me as I dart through the brush and between the trees, careful not to catch the loose ends of the cuffs around my ankles on anything as they swing wildly with each movement of my legs.

  I run as quickly as my bare feet will take me without overexerting myself. Jack warned that I shouldn’t do strenuous exercise while pregnant, which seemed ridiculous for him to say at the time given that I was locked in a tiny basement and had no real means of getting exercise other than my numerous trips between the bed and bathroom. I’m heeding his warning now, though, trying to move quickly while keeping my heart rate from spiking.

  I don’t know where I’m going, but I don’t really care as long as it’s far away from Mark and that cabin. I have to hope there is civilization somewhere nearby. I’ll take a road, any road I come across, even if it’s a just a dirt road or logging trail. Hell, I’ll take a hiking path at this point. The moment I find some sign of human life, I’ll follow it until it leads me to someone.

  And then I’ll go home.

  Then I’ll see Leo and my parents.

  Then I’ll have my baby in peace with the people I love around me.

  Hot tears spill from my eyes. I stop and take a moment to wipe them away, to gather my emotions and catch my breath before I start moving again. I begin to realize that all this movement is making my already dehydrated body even more thirsty. If I hadn’t been in such a crazed rush to get out of the cabin, I would have realized the benefit of checking the kitchen for drinks and snacks I could take with me. I was stupid not to think of that, not just because of the resulting detriment to myself, but for the consequences it will mean for the baby.

  I can’t be that stupid again. I can’t forget about the growing life relying on me to provide for it.

  “I’m sorry,” I say, placing my hand over the bump in my belly. “I need to do better for you. I’m trying. I’m trying so damn hard.”

  A quick sob escapes me. These crazy pregnancy hormones wreak havoc on my emotions. I have to get them under control.

  I try to breathe through it, and once I’m feeling centered and calmed down, I move through the forest again with renewed resolve.

  I keep going, working my way down to the nearest valley I saw from up at the cabin, hoping that there might be a road passing through the mountains. The sun has moved significantly in the sky above me by the time I find something promising.

  A road. A narrow dirt road, but a road nonetheless.

  Stepping onto it from the forest feels about as liberating as my first step out of the basement at the cabin. I look in both directions and opt to travel to the right, though the exhaustion within me reduces my speed to a slow and unsteady walk.

  My throat is dry. My left hand aches terribly from the broken bone that I haven’t even bothered trying to address yet. Despite the mild temperature in the air, sweat beads down my face and neck. I’m dirty from head to toe, my feet scraped up from running through the woods barefoot and my lower legs bruised from the loose metal of the handcuffs barraging the skin with my movements. Everything about me feels dirty and broken, but the seed of hope within me grows with each labored step I take along the road.

  I wonder if I’m becoming delirious when I hear something in the distance. A humming sound, steady and reverberating.

  My senses start to awaken, and in seeing movement further down the road, I confirm that I’m not just imagining this.

  It’s a vehicle. A sign of human life.

  I collapse to my knees with tears of relief as it comes closer.

  It’s time to go home. It’s time to be free.

  The vehicle pulls up next to me, and it takes all the strength and effort I have left to look up at the window to my savior.

  Instead I see my nemesis.

  Instead I see endless pain and suffering. I see solitude.

  I see red.

  In the second it takes Mark to open the truck door, I’m already to my feet and running for my life back into the woods. The breaths come and go so fast from my body I’m not sure I’m even taking in oxygen anymore. I can feel my pulse beating rapidly in my neck, my heart about ready to burst out of my chest and run ahead of me in the absolute fear that has overtaken my body. My feet sting with each stride I take through the brush and broken branches that scrape at my skin and make the ground beneath me uneven.

  I see a large fallen tree in my path and quickly readjust my route between the branches that stick up from the log. One foot makes over, but the loose cuff on my other ankle catches briefly on a protruding branch, and my body goes crashing to the dirt below.

  Before I can scramble back to my feet, Mark is already on top of me, his entire body covering the length of mine as he flips my shoulders so that I’m lying on my back. He takes my wrists in his hands and pushes them violently above my head.

  My piercing scream echoes throughout the forest, filling the depths of the valley and bouncing from peak to peak of the mountains around us. In my cries and my attempts to recoil my broken and bleeding hands, Mark sees the source of my pain and lets go of them.

  In that moment, I abandon all attempts at escape. I forget that I’m pinned down by a monster. I ignore the pain consuming me from my fingertips all the way to my toes.

  Instead I think about the baby inside me and how I’ve just blown my only chance at escaping with it. Mark will never let me or this child out of his sight again.

  We had our taste of freedom, however many hours it was, and I blew it for both of us. I’ve only made things worse, and up until now I haven’t let myself imagine how my situation could possibly get worse.

  “Why?” I say weakly through the tears rushing down my face. “Why can’t you just leave me the fuck alone?”

  I don’t bother waiting for his response. I scream again, letting the world know my pain, praying that someone somewhere can hear my cries.

  I melt into uncontrollable sobs as Mark smiles widely above me.
He brushes the hair out of my face and runs his thumb over my cheek. I immediately turn away from his touch, but he forces my head back to face him, grabbing me roughly by the chin.

  I will do anything to wipe that grin off his face.

  Anything.

  With a quick movement, I get one of Mark’s fingers from my chin to graze my teeth. I open my mouth and clamp down on the finger, the metallic and salty taste of his blood instantly filling my mouth. He cries out and yanks his hand back before smacking me hard across the face.

  I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to see this. I can’t accept that I’ve just experienced freedom for me and my baby and now it’s being snapped away from us.

  “Fuck you,” I manage to say through the daze from the hit. I want more of that daze. My body needs to be gone. “Hit me. Hit me again, you piece of shit.” And he does, even harder than the first time. My vision is going red. I’m almost there. “Hit me, asshole! Fucking do it!” Instant impact and pain.

  Then there is nothing but black, beautiful and simple, serene and waiting for me.

  14

  Her True Self

  ∞

  We are all lost.

  A constant fight to seek the truth

  and who we are.

  Gone but not forgotten.

  Held deep inside, hiding.

  Cowering from the world.

  She found herself.

  Embracing life and love.

  Starting her journey.

  Forging our path together.

  She will emerge and find that again.

  Her true self.

  ∞

  Morgan feels so close to me, yet so far away. It’s amazing how small the areas we’re searching look on a map. In reality our search area is larger than we thought on the day Robert found out that Morgan sent us a piece of a Coulter pine with her letter.

  I’ve spent the last few weeks alone driving from forest to forest and through surrounding towns asking questions, showing pictures, spinning off names to see if anyone has encountered Mark, Jack, or Morgan. I’ve stopped in at every cigar shop I’ve come across even though Robert and I already contacted all the shops in the state. We sent them pictures and names and the brand of cigar that Jack prefers. Robert threw in some extra incentive, offering ten thousand dollars cash to anyone who provides credible information that could lead us to Morgan.

  I’ve chased a few dead-ends, people looking to make a quick buck who quickly regret it when I come back to “pay” them for their help, but other than that I’ve been shooting in the dark. I’ve scoured through satellite images online to find houses hidden in the forests. The past few days I’ve found myself driving aimlessly through the mountains looking for paths to places that aren’t visible online, the kind of hideaway that someone like Mark or Jack would look for as a backup site.

  I’ve also taken the time to park on the side of the road, step out of Robert’s black sedan, and scream at the top of my lungs, letting my frustration and pain be heard by the trees and mountains all around me that only throw silence and solitude back in my face.

  Nature is quickly becoming my enemy.

  The sun is out and shining brightly overhead as I’m driving. It’s a gorgeous day, seemingly unfitting for the darkness and weight within my chest. The ups and downs are getting to me, reverting me backward, eating away at my resolve. The moments of gaining hope seem quickly followed by days and weeks acting upon that optimism only to end up right where I was to begin with. It’s a different kind of endless cycle, like trying to feed an insatiable hunger. No matter how hard I try, I end each day without Morgan in my arms.

  I will not turn completely hopeless, though.

  Robert stayed home in Arizona for work. His search for Morgan over these long months has tapped out the family’s bank accounts, and he can’t afford to be away from his job at this point. He’s under enough emotional strain as it is. It’s painful to know he’s under the addition of financial strain, and I can’t help seeing it for what it is: just another way that I’ve helped to destroy the Whitford family.

  I was grateful that Robert trusted me enough to let me come to California on my own. Thinking back to the day that I woke up tied to a chair in Robert’s basement an eternity ago, I never would have thought we’d reach a level of mutual trust and respect that he would let me travel states away to look for Morgan without his supervision.

  In a strange way I’ve become close to Robert and Cindy. They’ve welcomed me into their home and given me a sense of true family that has been absent in my life since the day Mark had my parents killed. There’s just one thing missing now, one very important person. The woman who ties us all together. Our final piece.

  My cell phone rings, a burner phone that Cindy loaded up with minutes for me. I pick it up and glance at it, answering the call immediately after recognizing the phone number. “Robert?”

  “Leo.”

  He sounds at the point of tears, and at first I fear the worst.

  “I got the call. They’ve been spotted, both Mark and Jack. A guy at a cigar shop in Soledad recognized them.”

  “Oh my God.” My breath catches in my throat, and I lose all ability to speak.

  Everything has changed.

  “He saw what direction they went. Leo, we have a solid lead. We know exactly what set of mountains to search.”

  I quickly pull over to the side of the road. It’s too much information for me to take in at once, too overwhelming to know that we’ve just come that much closer to finding Morgan.

  Stumbling out of the car, I fall to my knees in the dirt and drop the phone. The months of pain I’ve experienced without Morgan, the guilt I’ve felt in losing her and not being there to support her, hit me all at once at the realization that I may actually get to see her again soon.

  With my hand cupped over my mouth, I hold in the flood of emotion that wants to escape me, but the mix of devastated and joyful tears still fall down my face. I can hear Robert calling my name from the phone on the ground. I try to regain my composure before picking it up.

  “Sorry,” I say quietly.

  “It’s okay, Leo. I know it’s a lot to take in, but this is our moment. We need to keep pushing and finish this. We’re so close.”

  Robert’s words hit me like a slap to the face. The blood in my veins seems to reawaken fully, ready to fuel me. I feel the life bubbling up within me again. I picture Morgan’s face and can almost feel the beauty and light that emanate from her. I see her smiling. I see me holding her. I see us happy and loving our baby. “Okay. I’ll get to Soledad as fast as I can.”

  “I’m catching the next flight to San Jose. I’ll call you when I land.”

  I stand up and end the call, leaving the broken person I was just a few moments before kneeling behind me on the dirt. I get back in the car and fumble with the GPS. Soledad. I need to get there. Now.

  My destination, Morgan’s possible location, is less than two hours away. As I get back on the road, my foot becomes heavy against the gas pedal. The car cannot possibly get me there fast enough.

  The time passes quickly as I try to make sense of the chaos of thoughts that run through my mind. By the time I reach the cigar shop in Soledad where Mark and Jack were spotted, I feel focused and ready.

  What I wasn’t prepared for was encountering a stubborn store clerk who won’t say a word about what he saw until he has the cash reward in hand.

  Despite my threats of physical violence, the man held his ground, and I’m stuck waiting for Robert to arrive so he can pay the man. It’s a painful decision to leave that place so close to Morgan’s location, but I decide to drive to the San Jose International Airport to pick up Robert.

  When he’s finally in the car with me, I can see my own excitement written all over his face. He looks nervous though, rubbing his hands together anxiously as we get on the road. It’s uncharacteristic for him.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask worriedly.

  Robert’s gaze remain
s fixed on the road ahead of us. He’s silent for a long moment before he finally speaks. “I haven’t seen her in over seven months. I know this is all we’ve been working toward, and I’ve been looking forward to this for so long, but the thought of actually seeing her scares the hell out of me.”

  I know exactly what he’s feeling, though he’s gone over twice as long as I have without seeing Morgan, which I can only imagine compounds his pain even more. It’s hard not to think about how these past few months have changed her, if she’ll be the same person, if the connection and love we shared will still be there. I know she’s strong, but I worry that Mark finally broke her down. Whether she admits it or not, she is vulnerable. She is more vulnerable than ever before, not only because I’m not there to protect her, but because she has a baby growing within her.

  I look to Robert, trying to give him a reassuring smile and comforting words. “She’ll be happy to see you. I know she missed you and Cindy.”

  Robert smiles back, but I don’t think I’ve got through to him. I decide to try a different approach: brutal honesty.

  “She’s not going to be the same,” I continue, keeping my eyes on the road. “Even in the time I spent with her she changed dramatically, and I can’t even imagine how she may have been affected by these last few months. But she’s also strong. She’s a fighter, and even if it takes months or years for her to get past this, she will overcome it. She’ll never give up being who she truly is. We’ll help her find that person again.”

  When I turn to make eye contact with Robert, he looks away from me and only nods his head. I think I may have got through to him a little too much.

  The rest of the drive back to Soledad is quiet, and by the time we get there, it’s as if our earlier conversation never happened. Robert is straight-faced and focused, moving with purpose and entering the cigar shop as a man on a mission.

  Given my last run-in with the store clerk, I stay back and let Robert handle speaking with him this time. He successfully negotiates him down to half of the reward money up front with the remaining half to be paid once we confirm that the information is good.