Virtually Harmless

by P. D. Workman

  “He’s on the board of EvPro.”

  “You know who he is?” Bellows’s voice was incredulous.

  “His name is Kirk Haynes and he’s on the board at EvPro… and has a lot of other charitable and community connections.” Micah tried to process everything that had happened, what Kirk had said to her at her house. “He told me you were the leak. Or he implied it.”

  Frank cleared his throat, a loud, harsh sound. “Me? Never. I want to catch him and put him behind bars for the rest of his life. Getting that girl pregnant and then killing her and trying to kill the baby? No matter what else he’s done, good or bad, he deserves to go to prison for the rest of his life for that.”

  “Yeah.” Micah rested again for a while. She wasn’t feeling the cold anymore. The cabin seemed to be getting lighter, or her eyes were adjusting to the dimness. She could hear Frank’s breathing rasping evenly a few feet away from her, and thought that he had fallen back asleep too.

  “Micah.”

  She tried to rouse herself from her stupor. “Mm… what?”

  “Micah, we need to try to get out of here.”

  She shifted around. “How?”

  “I don’t know. Don’t let yourself fall back asleep. We need to figure this out.”

  Micah tried to wriggle into a sitting position. She blinked, looking around. It was getting lighter. She must have been there all night. She could see the interior of the cabin just faintly. It was small. An old-fashioned wood-burning stove in the corner. Unlit and probably unused for many years. Covered with a thick layer of dust, like everything else in the cabin. She probably wouldn’t have called it a cabin, but a shack. The kind of place that a hunter or fisherman might sleep overnight once or twice a year, but not the sort of place that someone would have lived year-round. There was a bed with a metal bedframe in the corner, but she and Frank were both on the dirt floor like a couple of discarded sacks of potatoes.

  There were a few canned goods on shelves nailed to the walls. There was no insulation, just plank walls that didn’t do anything to keep the cold out. It was no wonder she was so sore. What was surprising was that she was no longer cold.

  “You don’t feel cold when you get hypothermia,” she told Frank.

  He blinked at her. “I know.”

  “How are you feeling? Are you still cold?”

  “Numb.”

  “I’m not cold anymore.”

  Frank attempted to sit up as she had done, using his bound feet to push the floor away until he was pressed up against the wall. He studied Micah.

  “We don’t have a lot of time, then. You’re going to get confused and not be able to think straight. Keep talking to me.”

  Micah felt better being able to see their bonds. They were both bound up with duct tape. It wasn’t as strong as rope or chain, so maybe they had some hope of getting themselves free.

  “Is there anything sharp we can rub the tape against?” Micah asked, looking around. There was the stove. She didn’t see any sharp edges, but it was metal. Maybe there was a spur on one of the legs that could cut through the tape.

  Nails were protruding from the wall where they had been hammered from the outside of the shack but had missed the studs or crossbars. She might be able to reach one of those.

  Frank watched her. “You have more movement than I do. Or maybe I’m just not as flexible.”

  “Women tend to be more flexible than men,” Micah agreed.

  And she was younger than he was and not as heavy. But she didn’t say that. With his hands bound behind his back like they were, he could hardly move a muscle. His shoulders must have been aching. He’d been there for longer than she had. Hadn’t he? Or maybe he’d been tied up in the trunk of Haynes’s car when he had gone to Micah’s house to try to find what evidence she had so he could destroy it.

  “What if they burned my house down?” she asked Frank worriedly, as she tried to rub against one of the nails, wincing whenever she poked it into her arms.

  “Houses can be replaced. At least he didn’t burn it down with you in it.”

  But what about the kitten?

  “What’s wrong with this guy? He can beat me up, but he can’t kill anyone outright? What’s up with abandoning people in the hills to die?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe something traumatic in his past. Or he doesn’t like to get his hands dirty, and tells himself that if he didn’t see us die, he didn’t have anything to do with it.”

  “Maybe it’s all about alibis. He can go somewhere else and not be here when we die.”

  “We’re not going to die, though. So he’s going to have to deal with that.”

  “Yeah,” Micah agreed. She stabbed herself again with a nail but continued to work at it. It didn’t matter if she poked herself a hundred times with a sharp nail, that wasn’t as bad as what was going to happen to her if she didn’t get out of the cabin. It would be years before anyone came across their bones. They would need a forensic artist to reconstruct their faces.

  “What are you smiling at?” Bellows demanded.

  “I don’t even know,” Micah said, trying to blank her expression. The hypothermia must have been setting in. Her thoughts were definitely not appropriate.

  “Are you having any luck there?”

  “I think so. I can feel it making holes in the tape, and hitting fibers. It is going to give sooner or later.” She tried to pull her wrists apart and could feel it ripping some more. “Duct tape. Did he really think we wouldn’t be able to get out of duct tape?”

  “I thought duct tape works for everything,” Bellows said in good humor. Cheered by the fact that Micah was making progress, she supposed.

  “How many corpses have you found with duct tape on their wrists?” she challenged.

  He looked at her and didn’t answer.

  Inappropriate.

  Micah kept working on the tape. “I’m going to get it off. It’s going to work. And then we’ll walk out of here.”

  “How are we going to know which direction to go? Do you know the mountains?”

  “We’ll go downhill. And then we’ll walk a straight line until we get to a road. And then we’ll keep following the road until we find someone to help us.”

  He nodded. “Okay. She’s got a plan.”

  Micah pulled on the tape and felt it pulling free. “I’ve got it. I’ve got it!”

  It took some more pulling and wriggling but, eventually, Micah got one arm out, and then, using numb fingers, pulled the rest of the tape off of her wrists. She used her thumbnail to try to free the end of the tape on her ankles.

  Frank wriggled, trying to see. “Can you get it? If you can’t get your feet, you can try to get my hands free, and then I can help.”

  She looked at him, analyzing his position. “That’s going to be harder. Just wait. I’ll get this.”

  He was quiet, letting her work on it.

  Eventually, Micah managed to get a corner of the duct tape free, gripped it, and started to unwind it. “Are you sure he’s not coming back?”

  “Sure? No. I just figure… he left the baby out here to die. He left Trisha out here, or else pushed her down the ravine. What are the odds he’s going to come back to face us directly?”

  “No. I guess not.”

  “We’ll get out of here. You’re going to get us out.”

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  Micah turned her attention to Bellows’s bonds. She ignored the blood on her hands and wrists. That wasn’t important. The only thing that was important was getting them out of there. They had to escape before it was too late. Micah’s brain functions were already being affected, fuzzy and jumping from one thing to another and going in the wrong direction.

  She would have to trust Bellows to keep her on track and not let her lie down in the snow and die.

  “We’re going to get home,” she repeated. She scratched away at the duct tape, trying to lift one of the corners. “Are you married?”

  “Yes,” Bellows said slowly,
as if he weren’t quite sure. “Yes, though… you know how things go.”

  “Umm… no. What do you mean?”

  “We’re separated… talking about whether to stay together.”

  “Do you want to?”

  “Yes. Very much. But life is very stressful for a cop’s wife. It really isn’t something you would wish on anyone. Always wondering if your husband is going to be okay. Whether tonight will be the night that he runs into some crazy with a gun.” Bellows paused. “Or some crazy who decides to tie him up with duct tape and dump him in a remote cabin.”

  “Do you really think she worries about that?”

  He snorted. “No.”

  They were both quiet. Micah finally managed to get the end of the duct tape unstuck and started to pull. Unlike with her nearly-hairless arms, already numb, Bellows’s thick, hairy arms caused him considerable pain as they pulled the tape free. He yelped and flinched away, trying to protect them, but he forced himself to sit still and let Micah finish her job. Luckily, his legs were taped around his pants instead of directly to his skin. Free of the bonds, Bellows rubbed his arms, trying to warm himself up.

  “You’re too cold,” he reminded her. “Warm your hands up under your armpits and run on the spot for a few minutes.”

  “We’d better get our exercise outside. I’ll warm up while we hike away from here.”

  “Oh. Yeah. Okay. But you should still warm up your fingers like I said.”

  Micah tucked her fingers under her armpits, but it didn’t feel any different. They approached the door cautiously.

  “He had at least two guys with him,” Micah whispered, thinking for the first time that she’d better lower her voice in case they were overheard. “One of them was guarding my door. I just about got out, and he grabbed me.”

  Bellows tried to peer through the grimy windows, but couldn’t get an angle on the door. He pressed his ear to the door and listened, but couldn’t hear anyone out there.

  “We’re just going to have to chance it,” he said with a shrug. “I’m going to burst through there fast, make a run for it, and we’ll see if anyone comes after me. You stay here, watch for a minute and make sure the coast is clear before you come out.”

  “Okay.”

  Micah feared that running out of the cabin would just get Bellows shot in the back, but he was the professional, so she’d have to rely on his judgment. Maybe he’d zigzag like a rabbit, and no one would be able to get a bead on him.

  Bellows waited by the door for a moment, breathing slowly and planning his escape, and then he opened the door and bolted.

  Micah watched from the doorway. He dashed across the clearing in front of the shack and into the trees. He didn’t zig or zag. There was no pursuit. No gunshots. Micah waited until he was out of sight, hidden behind a tree, before running after him.

  Despite the fact that Bellows was overweight, he was in good shape and had moved quickly across the clearing. In contrast, Micah felt as if she could barely move. She’d been convalescing for days, but her body felt like she was right back at the beginning again. As if they had beaten her again before dumping her. Her movements were slow and sluggish and she wanted nothing more than just to lie down and go back to sleep.

  Bellows stepped out from behind the tree and watched her progress. When she got close enough, he walked up to her and took her by the arm.

  “You’re in pretty bad shape,” he observed.

  “I’m not normally…”

  “No, I didn’t mean you’re out of shape, I mean… you’re not doing very well. Are you going to be able to make it down the mountain?”

  Micah looked around. There was no way to tell how far they were from civilization or how long it would take them to hike out of there. She didn’t want to take another step.

  “It’s the only way out of here. I’m going to have to.”

  “We’ll go slowly. Take breaks.”

  “I don’t know if we should take breaks. I don’t want to freeze. I want to take breaks, but I don’t want to.”

  He nodded as if he understood. Micah wondered if she was babbling and he was humoring her.

  They looked at the shack on the other side of the clearing. There was no sign of anyone else. No guard had been left to watch them.

  “I left the door open,” Micah noted. “I guess I should go back and shut it, so if they come back to check, they don’t know that we’re gone…”

  “That’s just using extra energy. If they come to check on us, they’re not going to judge that by whether the door is open or not. They’re going to go inside.”

  “Yeah. Of course.”

  Micah leaned on a tree, trying to get her breath back after her hobble-sprint escape.

  “You okay?” Bellows checked.

  Micah wiped her forehead with her arm. She felt like she had a fever, in spite of the cold weather. “There’s a road,” she observed, pointing it out. “I didn’t think about there being a road, but I guess that’s how they got us here.”

  “You think we should take the road down?”

  “It’s going to be easier than bushwhacking.”

  “Let’s get going, then.” Bellows struck off toward the road. Micah knew that the longer they stayed there staring at the road and trying to figure out the best plan of action, the more the inertia was going to set in and she wouldn’t be able to get started. She followed Bellows, trying to avoid thinking of the journey ahead of them. Who knew how long it would take them to get down the mountain and to civilization. They didn’t have any food or water and Micah was already hypothermic.

  Bellows waited for her at the road. When she caught up, they walked side-by-side. It was only gravel, but it was still easier to get through than the weeds and undergrowth a few feet away.

  They set off. Micah knew they were going at a snail’s pace, Bellows slowing his speed to match hers.

  “Maybe you should go ahead and send help back.”

  “I’m not separating.”

  “You might have to, eventually. Maybe you should get a head start now, you’ll get to help a lot faster than I will.”

  “No. We’re staying together.”

  “Okay.”

  They walked on.

  “How are your feet?”

  Micah looked down at her feet, numb from the cold. It wasn’t until then that she realized she wasn’t wearing any shoes. She had been in her bedroom, not planning to go anywhere, and Kirk and his men had not bothered to put any on her when they had transported her to the cabin.

  “They’re okay. I can’t feel them.”

  “We’ll try to stick to smoother areas. I don’t want them getting all ripped up.”

  Micah’s feet felt like something separate from her, something that didn’t even concern her. “What matters is that we get away. If my feet get cut up… that’s not really important.”

  She was so dreadfully tired. She didn’t know how she was going to keep walking for the hours she was going to need to. But she kept going.

  As they walked down the road, the sky growing lighter, Micah became more aware of their surroundings.

  “What if they come back? We’re right here on the road. It’s the only way in or out, so they’re going to see us.”

  Bellows looked at her in dismay. It was so much easier walking down the road than it would be to cut through the bush, even if the road did switch back and forth as it went down the mountain. But there hadn’t been any roads branching off to the side. Just the main road they were on.

  “We’ll keep our eyes and ears open, and if a car comes, we’ll get off the road,” he told her. “We’ll hear them before they see us.”

  Micah sighed with relief and nodded. “We’d better walk near the edge, then.”

  They adjusted their positions. Micah felt Bellows grab her arm and realized she’d been about to totter off of the road into the ditch.

  “Sorry,” she apologized. She tried to focus on keeping herself upright.

  It seemed like
an eternity, just walking down the road, keeping their eyes and ears peeled for any sign of vehicles. It was a beautiful, crisp, clear day, new frost clinging to each stalk of grass and tree branch. Birds were singing. The sky turned a bright blue. Micah’s thoughts turned again to her kitten and her hopes that Kirk hadn’t burned her house down when he’d been unable to find the evidence he needed. She hated people touching her things and she had gotten attached to the kitten.

  “Micah! Car!”

  Micah practically fell over trying to follow Bellows’s example and get off the road quickly. She was glad that he wasn’t like a TV show cop, waving down the car and explaining that he was a police officer and they needed to take him to safety or let him use their phone. He was just as intent on getting out of sight as she was.

  They watched the car zip by on the road without even slowing. There wasn’t much to see, as they were keeping their heads as low as they could to avoid being seen. A dark colored sedan, moving at a pretty good clip. Micah didn’t like driving on gravel roads and always crept along them, not wanting to chip her paintwork. But Kirk or whoever was driving was more concerned with reaching the shack quickly than he was about protecting his car or even staying in control.

  “Was that him?” Micah asked, gasping for breath. “Did you see?”

  “No, I didn’t see. But I think we can be pretty confident that it wasn’t just a random tourist.”

  “No. I guess not.”

  “Maybe this would be a good time to take a break.”

  Micah giggled, maybe a little hysterical. Bellows took one of her hands in between his and tried to warm it. But his hands probably weren’t much warmer than Micah’s. She couldn’t feel them, so she didn’t know for sure.

  They stayed hidden for a few minutes, ears pricked.

  “How long does it take for them to figure out that we’re gone?” Micah asked, anxious for something to happen.

  “They know by now. They’re probably looking for us, checking out the woods.”

  “It won’t be hard to find us.”

  He looked at her, biting his lip. He didn’t argue and tell her otherwise.

  “Maybe we should get moving again,” Micah suggested.