Kate hated him then, with everything in her. But she couldn’t forget how soft his touch had been when he’d pulled her back off Deke’s body, how soothing he’d sounded talking to her and telling her she’d done all she could, not realizing that Jolly had killed Deke with her watching to drive home his point to her.
She had the point now: she was going to live if she got along to get along. Till the exact minute Jolly decided she was going to die.
And Shane Warren wasn’t going to stand in Jolly’s way because he was receiving a bigger cut of the ransom money now. Her life wouldn’t be hers again until she escaped.
Hurricane Genevieve had hooked back around after driving across Florida, according to the portable radio Ernie had found back in the mobile home. There were extra batteries as well. The storm was now headed back inland and would make the coast by evening. Kate knew from past experience that it would stick around for another couple of days till it blew itself out.
Kate sat in the johnboat’s stern. The cuffs felt heavy on her wrists. She was conscious of Shane watching her from behind a pair of sunglasses he’d taken from the mobile home.
Jolly seemed more antsy than ever. “Ms. Garrett,” he said politely.
Pointedly ignoring him, Kate looked out at the flooded swamp. A parade of five drowned ducklings floated past the johnboat, yellow puffs of feathers against the gray-green murk of the water. They’d passed five dead white-tailed deer, two of them fawns, a number of rats, nutria, dozens of wild turkeys and even a bear. The flooding had impacted the area in ways that would take years to recover from. In the wetlands, even an inch rise in the water table affected life cycles for miles and years. Some of them, Kate knew sadly, wouldn’t recover at all.
Despite the large land masses involved, the Everglades were a fragile eco-system. Man had hurt it most of all, but the tropical storms were devastating.
“Ms. Garrett, don’t ignore me,” Jolly said. “If you do, I’ll hurt you to get your attention.”
Kate turned to him, squinting her eyes against the rain. “What?”
“Good.” Jolly showed her a self-satisfied smirk. “Which way is Everglades City?”
Kate pointed. “Five or six miles. That way.”
“You’ll keep us on course then?”
“Yeah.”
“See that you do.”
Less than half an hour later, the outboard prop got caught in a trotline that had floated loose from some fisherman’s private fishing area.
Shane leaned the motor forward but couldn’t clear the prop quickly. His back and shoulders ached from the last few days in the water and from sitting hunched over in the stern, slowly guiding the johnboat through the morass and murk. There was no clear path, no true way to go that guaranteed safe passage.
“We need to put in somewhere,” Shane said, pushing his sunglasses up because the evening gloom was deepening the constant gray of the stormy sky.
“Can’t you clear it?” Jolly demanded.
Shane took a deep breath and let it out. “That’s a trotline. It’s old rope filled with fishhooks. If I don’t watch what I’m doing, I’m going to end up with my hands cut to pieces. Then I’d have to worry about infections. Not only that, the rope is old and frayed. The prop, which wasn’t in great shape to begin with, chewed the rope up pretty good. I’m going to have to break it down to get it cleaned out enough to trust.”
Jolly frowned.
“Unless you want me to do a half-ass job and we can all cross our fingers that it won’t break down somewhere between here and Everglades City. If it does, we can row in, but in a boat this size, we could be at that for a while.” Shane nodded at the sky. “Plus, as dark as it’s getting, we wouldn’t make Everglades City before nightfall anyway. Trying to pilot this boat through that mess isn’t a good idea.”
“There’s an island over there,” Ernie said, pointing a halogen flashlight at a hilltop that jutted above the flood level.
“That’s not an island,” Kate said. “It’s just a hill that didn’t get submerged.”
“Whatever,” Ernie said. Now that they had left his cousin’s body in the mobile home and out of sight, he seemed to have forgotten his newfound respect for the woman. “Looks like an island to me.”
The knob of land was maybe a hundred yards across, filled with bald cypress and brush. Birds—gulls, songbirds, blue herons, owls and anhingas—lined the tree branches, all of them forced into closer proximity due to the submerged swamplands.
A scream tore through the night, sounding almost like a woman in pain.
“What the hell was that?” Ernie asked.
Kate spoke quietly. “There are some who say the swamp is haunted. People tell me all the time that they see ghosts out here.” She looked at Ernie. “Do you believe in ghosts?”
Ernie gripped his shotgun a little more tightly but didn’t answer.
“That was a bobcat,” Shane said. “Nothing to worry about. They rarely attack humans.” He nodded at the hilltop. “With all the flooding, there are probably a lot of animals holed up there. Play your cards right and, if we find a dry place to have a fire, you can be eating fresh roasted turkey.”
Ernie grinned. “Sounds good to me.”
Breaking out the oars, Shane inserted them into the locks. He and Ernie rowed them to shore. They stopped at a shelf of limestone that jutted out of the ground, then Ernie waded ashore and moored the boat to a tree.
The rain picked up in tempo, answering the call of the storm. Under the thick canopy of tree branches, the rain and the wind was somewhat blunted. Dry firewood was impossible to find, but Ernie had brought a sack of charcoal briquettes from the last mobile house in the trees. He dug a fire pit, lined it with the driest brush he could find, then poured half of the big bag into the pit and set it ablaze. After only a few minutes, the charcoal started to gray and the makeshift semi-tent warmed considerably.
Shane removed the outboard engine from the johnboat and carried it into the shelter. Fatigue chewed into him, and he almost jumped out of his skin when he heard the shotgun bang. His head swiveled and he looked for Kate, making sure she was still there. She was, lying down at the back of the shelter and sleeping, her cuffed wrists resting lightly across her stomach below her breasts. He’d gotten so wrapped up in finishing the outboard motor up that he’d lost track of time.
“Easy,” Jolly said. He sat in a folding camp chair at the shelter’s edge and peered out at the night. Vivid veins of lightning chased through the dark sky. “It’s just Ernie. He decided to try for one of those turkeys we keep hearing in the woods.”
Shane nodded, then stood and stretched in an effort to alleviate the compression in his back.
A moment later Ernie came strutting back into the shelter carrying a dead turkey. “Got one,” he declared proudly.
Shane figured it was a lot like when cavemen first started bringing food home to the cave.
Ernie walked over and kicked Kate’s boots.
She glared up at him without saying a word.
“You know how to clean game, right?” Ernie demanded.
“Yeah,” she answered.
“Let’s grill that up.”
Shane expected Kate to object, but she surprised him. Instead, she sat up and asked for a knife and to get the cuffs off. Then she expertly plucked the turkey’s feathers while letting it finish bleeding out. Afterwards, she gutted the bird, then cut it up to put on the grill stand over the fire pit.
Within minutes, the smell of fresh meat roasting over charcoal filled the shelter. In spite of the situation, Shane listened to his stomach rumble.
Without a word, Kate tended to the meat while Jolly and Ernie made small talk. As he put the prop back together, Shane kept listening, hoping they would say something about the Desiree Martini kidnapping, but they never did. He ate pieces of turkey, missing salt and pepper and seasoning, but enjoying the almost home-cooked meal.
But he wondered why Kate had been so willing to prepare the turkey for
them. He’d learned over the last couple of days that she never did anything without an ulterior motive. She was like him in that regard.
Kate waited till the time was right to make her move. As Jolly and Ernie sat and told stories, and Shane watched them both closely, though without showing too much interest, she’d listened to the animal noises outside the shelter. She’d known that the smell of the kill, the blood and the cooked meat, would bring the creatures from the brush to inspect the shelter.
They were curious, after all, like any wild thing. And after having been trapped on the limited land space, they were hungry, driven near to desperation and falling upon each other to survive.
Something already dead provided an easy meal for those that would eat carrion, and there were a number of them that hunted nocturnally. Shane remained quiet as the two other men talked. To look at him, no one would really notice how much attention he was paying to them. But Kate saw because she was used to watching predators. Especially feline predators.
Shane was hunting. Just like a big cat, he was biding his time.
He’s probably planning on taking all the ransom money, Kate told herself sourly. He’s already muscled his way into a third of it. He’s only one more body away from half. Looking at things in that light, it was easier to understand why Shane had snapped Monte Carter’s neck a few days ago. And she had to wonder more about Phil Lewis’s death.
Maybe the bus mishap had happened exactly where he’d wanted it to, giving him the opportunity to whittle down the competition.
More snuffling sounded in the brush behind the tent. Kate knew she had to act fast, before the others figured out what she was up to.
She sat up and announced, “I need to go to the bathroom.”
Jolly looked at her for a moment, then turned to Ernie. “Take her.”
“Me?” Ernie was aghast. “I’m always taking her.”
“And you’ll take her now,” Jolly said.
Kate relaxed a little, there was always the chance that Jolly would take her. She knew she’d have more trouble overcoming him. But she felt certain Ernie was afraid of the dark.
She got to her feet and held her hands out. Jolly stood long enough to take the cuffs off, then dropped back into the camp chair.
“If she tries to run,” Jolly told Ernie, “shoot her.”
“I will,” Ernie replied.
Outside the shelter, cold rain hammered Kate. She turned and walked into the brush behind the shelter.
Ernie played his halogen light over her. “It’s cold an’ wet out here,” he complained. “Ain’t no reason to go far. Just far enough.”
“Sure,” she said, senses acute to the movements around her that Ernie hadn’t quite caught. She turned toward the one she wanted. The scar on the back of her right leg tightened.
Only two steps farther on, a wild hog jumped into motion. It was a smaller one of the wild ones, no more than a couple hundred pounds. But he made a lot of noise tearing through the brush.
Ernie jumped, trying to bring the flashlight and the shotgun to bear at the same time. Taking advantage of his confusion, Kate stepped into him, grabbed the shotgun’s barrel, and threw her elbow into his face, wishing she had the Asp baton because the contact wouldn’t hurt so much and Ernie would already have been down.
As it was, he managed to hang on to the shotgun even while he was going down. It discharged, firing into the air. Pellets skidded along branches and brought down a deluge of rainwater and freshly shorn leaves.
Kate shoved a leg out and tripped Ernie, shoving into him with her hip and using the leverage for all it was worth.
“Damn bitch!” he snarled. “You ain’t gettin’ my gun!” He hung on to the weapon viciously.
Kate doubled up her right hand into a fist and slammed it into Ernie’s face. In addition to the fear that filled her, knowing that neither Jolly nor Shane would keep the animal off her now, she stoked the anger from the way he’d attacked her the previous night. She hit him three times, as quickly as she could, listening to him yell for help the whole time, then kneed him in the crotch twice.
One of them kicked the flashlight and sent it skidding off into the brush.
Then something cut the wind in front of her face. She heard the harsh report of the .357 Magnum a moment later.
Releasing Ernie, Kate threw herself forward, stumbling over the man, aware of the animal eyes in the darkness watching her. They scattered as she stayed low and went through them. A bobcat, three wild hogs, mink and otters scrambled from in front of her, adding to the confusion Jolly was firing into.
Running to the nearest tree, Kate took cover and looked back. As she watched, Jolly and Shane were getting to their feet. Jolly seemed to be a little wobbly, but he was conscious and lifting the heavy Magnum to aim at Shane.
A burst of buckshot tore into the tree just above Kate’s head, leaving jagged streaks of white bark in its wake. She turned and fled, charging through the forest, wondering if she’d ever understand what Shane’s motivations were.
The Magnum emptied quickly. Kate kept running, hoping just to stay alive.
Chapter 12
The sound of the shotgun blast brought Shane up from the ground in a heartbeat, but fast as he was, he was a step behind Jolly when they left the shelter. Outside, the brush seemed alive with animals. He didn’t know how that had happened, but he assumed Kate had had something to do with it. She hadn’t needed to go to the bathroom; this had been part of an escape attempt.
Shane swore to himself as he paced Jolly. Instead of passing the man, Shane stayed a step behind him and to his right, so it would be easy for him to move against Jolly if he had to, and hard for Jolly to turn and point the pistol at him.
The wind had picked up strength again as the storm hit the coastal areas once more. Driving rain slashed through the trees. Lightning arcs blazed across the sky, igniting the heavens for brief periods and ruining Shane’s night vision.
Then, ahead, between a copse of cypress trees, the lightning blazed again and lit up the struggling figures of Kate and Ernie Franks. She hit him in the face with her fist, obviously trying to separate the big man from the shotgun.
Jolly came up short and brought the .357 Magnum in a two-handed grip. Shane dived for the man, throwing his arms wide to take Jolly down. He hit Jolly across the back, driving him forward, hoping that the big pistol would get jarred free.
When Shane hit the ground, he hadn’t counted on the mud. He tried to hold on to Jolly, but the man’s shirt ripped in his grasp and the mud caused him to slide a few feet away.
Shane shoved himself to his feet, intending to throw himself back at Jolly, but he couldn’t get any traction in the mud. His feet kept sliding out from under him. When Jolly raised the pistol, Shane dove into the bush. The bullet intended for his face smacked into the mud.
“I’m gonna kill you, Shane!” Jolly screamed.
Already a believer, Shane ran, staring through the shadows that filled the darkness as he tried to spot Kate. Jolly’s bullets chased him, tearing through the brush and screaming into trees. Slightly ahead of Shane, the side of a tree suddenly erupted into a shower of bark splinters that he ran through.
The land mass was only a hundred yards across. Shane grew grimly aware that not too many good hiding places existed. He also knew that Jolly and Ernie didn’t seem too keen on following them into the darkness at the moment. Then he realized they were staying there to protect the boat.
That made Shane feel a little better. Jolly wouldn’t let them escape, but at least pursuit might not be immediate. All Jolly would have to realize was that he could take the spark plug out of the outboard motor and shove it into his pocket to ensure it would be there when he got back for it.
“Kate!” he yelled. He was in it now. There was no way he could rebuild what little trust Jolly had had in him. “Kate, I need to talk to you! Damn it!”
Realizing he’d lost her in the mad scramble and could no longer tell one shadow from another, Sh
ane stopped. He locked his fingers behind his head and lifted his arms to open his lungs to their maximum potential, then he breathed.
He tried to listen, but the drumming rain took away all other sounds.
“Kate!”
A noise sounded to his left. He charged after it, thinking that if he could somehow just look her in the eye and talk to her, she would listen.
Instead of Kate, though, it was a wild hog that charged him. It had eight-inch long tusks that could slice a man to ribbons.
Shane leaped to one side and let the fear-maddened creature rush by him. But he stumbled and fell over a downed tree, falling back heavily on to his back and shoulders.
Lightning flared again as he lay dazed on the ground. He picked up movement from the corner of his right eye, and saw the snake rise up from the ground, jaws distended to strike.
The wedge-shaped head streaked at Shane’s face. Reflexively, he raised his arm and tried to block the snake. He felt the snake’s fangs bury deeply into his arm. There was pain at first, then a burning sensation and finally numbness.
The snake continued to hold on to him and Shane couldn’t pull it loose. Panic slammed through him and his arm started to feel hot.
Poison! he thought.
The snake coiled its cold, muscular body around his other arm, hanging on to him as it pumped venom into his body.
Kate hid in the brush only a few feet from where Shane had come looking for her. Her heart thudded almost painfully in her chest. Glancing back at the shelter they’d made, she saw by the two flashlights walking a perimeter that Jolly and Ernie hadn’t left the campsite.
That left just Shane.
A moment later, she saw him. Watched as the wild hog ran at him and caused him to stumble over a moss-covered log.
Kate went forward immediately. If he was going to come looking for her and he didn’t have a pistol or shotgun, she intended to take him out. She noticed him struggling on the ground and froze for a moment until she figured out what had happened.
Storm Force Page 16
