by J. A. Kalis
‘Who else could it be?’
‘I don’t know. Could be anybody. Could be him, I guess. Now you’ve planted the idea in my mind, it seems so plausible. But how would he manage to find us. How would he know we were in France in the first place?’
‘I don’t have all the answers. I haven’t figured this part out yet. But I suspect it has something to do with La Belle Etoile. Someone working there warned him of our arrival. He must have lurked there in wait, then followed us. That’s the only reasonable explanation.’
‘I’m not sure; it sounds so farfetched. But if what you say is true and it was him, it means we are in danger. He’s going to come back to complete the job. To find us and kill us. People like him don’t give up until they finish what they started.’
‘My point exactly. That’s why we should get as far away from here as possible and try to find a more inhabited area. And we better keep our voices low. If he spent the night in his car, he is already out there, busy hunting for us. Remember! Don’t let your guard down!’
By the time they reached the road, about an hour later, the mist lifted. The sky above their heads was almost a perfect clear blue with just a few wisps of cloud marring its vast expanse. As the sun was creeping slowly over the horizon, bright daylight flooded the surrounding landscape, making it look so different. No trace of yesterday’s storm remained. Nothing of the ominous atmosphere they felt so strongly just the previous evening.
Walking, they scanned the road both ways. It stayed empty.
It was getting warmer by the minute. Mike had kept his jacket on to cover the blood stained T-shirt underneath, but he was getting too hot. Beads of sweat peppered his forehead, some of them forming into rivulets and trickling down his temples. Walking on the rugged terrain wore him out. He wasn’t used to such intense exercise, especially after a bad night’s sleep. Although the occasional jogging and cycling had built some muscles in his body, they proved not fit enough for such a sustained effort.
In between licking his parched lips, he asked, ‘Can we take a short rest, sit down there on the grass for a couple of minutes?’
‘Better slow our pace instead. We mustn’t waste time. It will be easier to walk out here in the open than before. No more plodding through that rugged forest. How is your hand?’
‘It feels a bit numb and it looks more swollen than yesterday.’ Mike peered inside the temporary sling made of a T-shirt that was now covered with smears of dirt. A concerned look crossed his face.
‘You need to see a doctor. He will probably put your hand in a plaster cast.’
‘Yeah.’
For the next ten minutes they walked in silence.
Suddenly, Mike asked, ‘Can you hear that?’
‘Hear what?’
‘A car?’
Patrick was about to say ‘no’ when his ears picked up the muffled sound of a car engine. Both men turned around. A dark-coloured vehicle appeared in the distance, approaching fast. Mike’s heart leapt with hope. He stopped and waved his healthy arm wildly in the air. The small van passed them by without even slowing down.
‘It must be the way we look that put him off. All messed-up. Your face full of cuts. Your trousers caked with blood and mud. And mine are not much cleaner. I doubt anyone will want to give us a lift. The only means of transportation we should count on are our legs. Come on. Let’s go.’
‘Yes, you’re right. We don’t look our best,’ Mike agreed, his voice disheartened as he studied Patrick for a while, his eyes squinting from the sun. ‘How many kilometres have we walked?’
‘Not that many, four or five.’
‘So we have about ten more left to go. Do you think we are already outside the danger zone?’
‘I wouldn’t be so sure. You never know with this kind of guy. We must stay alert. Just in case.’
‘I feel so thirsty. My mouth and throat are parched. And this bag is weighing me down.’ Mike touched the small overnight bag slung across his back.
‘Well, I can’t help you with it. I have mine to carry. And I feel pretty drained myself.’
The road slanted down a hillside. About a hundred metres ahead, a sharp bend appeared. After they took it, the forest started to thin. Gradually it turned into open stretches of dry grassland dotted with scraggy bushes and gnarled trees. In the distance, they discerned something that looked like a dry-stone wall separating the semi-arid land into individual pastures.
‘Isn’t that a stone wall? Maybe we’ll come upon a village soon. You were right to set off early. It’s tiring to walk in such hot weather without a drop of water to drink,’ said Mike.
As they walked along, Patrick scanned the road. He spotted no cars in either direction.
Suddenly, he tilted his head as something else in the distance caught his attention. Cupping one hand over his brows to shield his eyes from the glaring sun, he strained to see better what it was. The shape’s contours were too fuzzy to enable its identification.
He had to take another couple of steps to get a clearer view.
His heart gave a leap. His eyes confirmed his initial guess. It was a house. Then, a bit further behind the first one, he saw another.
They were nearing a village.
‘Mike, cheer up! There’s a village much sooner than I expected. It doesn’t look big, just a handful of houses, but maybe we’ll find someone there willing to give us a lift.’
The promise of imminent help gave them extra energy. They accelerated their pace.
Within minutes, they were approaching the first house. Solid-panel wooden shutters covered its small windows. In the middle of the door, instead of a bell, there was an old-fashioned brass knocker. They used it. Afterwards, they waited for a while, listening. The house remained silent.
They banged once more. Harder.
Nothing. No sound of voices or shuffling footsteps reached their ears.
They moved towards the next house. But there was no response there either.
Within the next quarter of an hour they had tried all nine houses scattered around the single main street.
The only answer they got was the fierce barking of a dog coming from inside a pale grey-stone building with all its windows hidden behind weathered wooden louvre shutters. Having a strong impression that someone was watching them through the narrow horizontal gaps, Patrick observed the shutters for a while, straining his eyes. But it was impossible to discern anything through the tiny openings, and minutes ticked by without anyone coming to the door.
‘No one is going to open for us. Living in such a desolate area makes the inhabitants extra cautious. We’d better get going.’
‘Can’t we wait a bit longer, just in case someone changes their mind?’
‘I’m fed up with waiting. We’re only wasting our time. We don’t know how long it will take before somebody dares to open the door. Could be hours. It’s hot, we have nothing to drink and there’s not even a shaded place to sit down. Come on. Let’s go.’
They left the tiny hamlet and wandered down the winding road. Every now and then, they scanned it both ways but nothing changed. It remained empty.
Patrick attempted to cheer Mike up. ‘Maybe in the next village we’ll have better luck and it’ll be more welcoming.’
‘I don’t believe in luck anymore. Oh, my legs are killing me. I don’t have the right type of shoes for walking such long distances. I’ve got blisters already.’
For the next twenty minutes, they strode in silence, each man lost in his own thoughts. Gradually, exhaustion started to take its toll on both of them, slackening their pace.
But even worse than fatigue, was the thirst. Water. That’s what they craved most. They desperately needed some water to soothe their parched throats and revive their sore bodies. Yet, they had no water. The realization that it might be hours before they could have something to drink deepened the unpleasant sensation.
They kept walking while the merciless sun beat down on them and the road, making their sweat glands work d
ouble and the tarmac glisten.
Their bodies were so tired and their senses so dazed that they didn’t immediately react to the sound of a car approaching. Only when the vehicle was a short distance away, did their brains eventually process what they had just heard.
Without much enthusiasm, both men stopped and turned their heads. A red car was coming their way.
To their amazement and relief, it was slowing down. Within seconds, it had pulled up alongside Mike and Patrick. The driver lowered the window.
‘You must be lost. If you need a lift, get in.’
It was a woman. From where they stood, they couldn’t see her face.
Looking half-stunned and half-excited, Mike walked up to the rear passenger door, pulled it open and slipped inside. Patrick rounded the back of the car to the other side. But then he spotted a dark-haired man sitting in the front, next to the driver. He opened the door and was about to step in when he caught a glimpse of the man’s face as he turned it his way. Recognition dawned on him in an instant. He knew this man. He had seen him before, on a photograph with Sandy. It was Lucien Chabert. The identity of the driver was an easy guess. Who else could it be but Corinne Bonnet?
Patrick froze halfway into the car, his mind racing through his options and trying to determine the best one. He leaned inside the car and pulled Mike’s arm. ‘Get out of the car. Now! It’s them. Get out and run!’
Mike didn’t move. He just sat staring blankly at Patrick as if he didn’t understand what he was saying.
‘Get out of the car!’ Patrick repeated. Louder. And pulled him once more. Harder.
As he himself stepped out and was about to dash aside, he heard the front door open. In a flash, he turned around and found himself standing face-to-face with his daughter’s killer. Lucien held a gun in his hand, its barrel pointed at Patrick’s chest.
‘Get in! Don’t even think about running away. I swear I’ll shoot you if you try.’ He fixed him with a cold stare, a steely edge to his voice.
It was clear from the look on his face that he meant every word he said. Patrick realized he had no other option but to do as he was told. He slumped into the rear seat next to Mike.
Meanwhile, Corinne had climbed out of the car. A few minutes later, she reappeared by Lucien’s side, holding coils of rope in her hand.
‘Tie them up!’ ordered Lucien.
While he held both captives at gunpoint, Corinne started to execute his orders. First, she bound Patrick’s wrists. Then, she moved to the other side and wanted to do the same with Mike’s when she noticed his left arm wrapped in a makeshift sling.
‘What’s wrong with your hand?’
‘My wrist is broken.’ There was a note of sullen resignation in Mike’s voice.
Instead of around his wrists, she tied the rope around his waist and over his right arm, leaving the left one free.
‘Oh, that seems like a good idea, far more secure. Better tie the rope around the older guy’s chest and upper arms as well. That way he won’t be able to do anything stupid or wriggle free,’ advised Lucien.
The moment she was done, she climbed back into the car. Before slipping into the passenger seat, Lucien checked the bonds. Seemingly satisfied they were well done and tight enough, he slammed the car door shut. Corinne started the engine and in an instant the car pulled away.
Everything happened so fast that Patrick and Mike had hardly time to react or worry about being abducted. The dreadful development caught them unawares, leaving them stunned. As the vehicle sped down the road, they sat motionless, staring blankly out the window. They had no idea what to expect next, or what their abductors’ plans were.
Throughout the journey, Lucien – with gun in hand – watched them closely.
The landscape changed. Grasslands gave way to woodland. Dense forest rose on both sides of the road. Here and there, light-coloured, irregular-shaped limestone rocks pierced the dark-green tangle of trees and thick underbrush.
At one point, the car left the tarmac and continued up a dirt road that was winding its way deep into the dense woods until, finally, it came to a stop in a small clearing. The place looked desolate, with not a soul in sight.
Corinne and Lucien stepped out of the car. Lucien opened the rear passenger side door.
‘Get out!’ He brandished the gun.
Both Patrick and Mike followed his command without showing any resistance. Convinced that their captor wouldn’t hesitate to kill them if they tried to run away, they chose to submit themselves to his will. At least for the time being.
Once their initial stupefaction had subsided, they started to think about escape, all senses on alert awaiting a suitable opportunity.
‘Search their pockets and bags. Check for are any weapons. Look for money or credit cards. If you find any, take them,’ Lucien instructed Corinne.
Corinne finished her search. ‘Yeah, there is some money and two credit cards. For the rest, they have no weapons. I also found a torch. What should I do with it?’
‘Let me see it.’ He paused to study the small torch. ‘Do what you want with it. You may take it, but mind you, it’s not a good quality one. Its beam is not very strong. I’ve got two better ones for us to use.’
‘So what? I just leave it in the bag?’
‘Yeah, why not? It doesn’t matter. There’s no risk they will be able to use it. They can’t move. Take the money and the credit cards. We must get rid of the rest of the stuff, take it to the cave and dump it there so that there is no evidence left to connect them to us. Don’t forget to take the extra coil of rope from the boot. Come on now. Let’s go. I’ll carry both bags and lead the way, so take the gun. If either of them tries to escape, don’t hesitate, just shoot! Best aim at their legs.’
‘Can’t we kill them here and just leave their bodies in the forest?’
‘Just like that, in the open? No. Too risky. Someone may find them. Police will start investigating … and that may put us in trouble again. My plan is far better. The place I’ve got in mind, no one but me knows it. It’s safe to leave them there. Trust me, they will never be able to get out on their own. It’s impossible. We don’t need to kill them. Death will come naturally.’ He paused, a vicious smile adorning his face. ‘You know me, I’m not a bloodthirsty type. I don’t like to kill just for the thrill of it. I do it only if I need to. And if they try to escape, I won’t hesitate to kill them on the spot. The downside of it will be that we’ll have to drag their bodies to the cave.’
‘Was that what you did with this girl, what’s-her-name, Carol? You are up to no good, I can feel it. Tell me the truth. You haven’t killed her, have you? You just left her in the cave. You liked her, didn’t you? Answer me. You had some other plans for her behind my back? Oh, it’s incredible how weak and stupid you can be sometimes. It’s not what we’ve agreed. You remember what we decided? Should I remind you? We decided you would kill her right away. You promised. How stupid of me to have believed you. I’ve really had enough of your dirty tricks and lies. I’m tired of you bringing us trouble.’ Her face was flushed, her nostrils flaring.
She stopped raving but the fire in her eyes betrayed she was still fuming inside. Lucien ignored her outburst. He just stood there, silent, a sheepish expression on his face.
Although they spoke in rapid French, Patrick managed to understand most of what they said. His heart skipped a beat when he heard this ruthless man had taken his daughter captive.
How dared he? Sudden anger bubbled up inside him. Gritting his teeth, he fought down the urge to kick him as hard as he could. His mind shifted to the thought that Carol was still alive. It was what mattered most now. And, if he understood it correctly, they were taking him and Mike to the same isolated place in which she was held captive, and where they planned to leave them to die a slow death.
But hope budded in his heart. Maybe they would somehow manage to free themselves, free Carol and escape together. He started to believe not everything was lost yet. He cautioned himself not t
o mess things up before they got to Carol. Until then, they should obediently follow their captors’ orders. He moved closer to Mike and whispered the advice in his ear.
‘Stop talking or you’ll regret it. I’ve been soft with you until now, but don’t push your luck. Walk!’ The harsh tone of Lucien’s voice silenced them in an instant.
For the next twenty minutes they trudged through underbrush, not daring to say another word. Lucien walked ahead, Patrick and Mike followed a couple of steps behind him and Corinne – who was now holding the gun – brought up the rear.
The deeper they progressed into the wood, the denser it became. There was no path to walk on so they had to be careful not to stumble over the rugged terrain. Even so, at one point Mike tripped over a root and fell. A loud groan of pain escaped his lips as his body hit the ground. Fortunately, he didn’t fall on his wounded wrist. After he’d lain sprawled there for a while, he began an awkward struggle to get up. But without the use of his hands, it wasn’t working. Unable to help, Patrick just stood and watched, frustration rising inside him.
At first, Lucien too stood and watched, but he soon lost his patience. He closed the short distance dividing him from Mike, grabbed him violently by his arms and pulled him up. When, a couple of minutes later, Mike staggered to his feet, he gasped and moaned for a while. This seemed to enrage Lucien further. He spun around and punched him in the face. Taken by surprise, Mike didn’t have time to shield himself from the blow. The unexpected explosion of pain made him wince. Lips pressed tight, he stifled a cry, not wanting to infuriate his aggressor more than he already had.
‘This will teach you not to be so clumsy. Next time be careful where you put your feet. Now, walk and keep quiet!’
They resumed their walk, advancing in silence deeper into the woods.
When Lucien saw a rocky escarpment looming ahead, he slowed down his pace. Ploughing through large ferns, they neared it.
