Matthew (BBW Country Music Bear Shifter Romance) (Bearly Saints Book 1) (80 page)

“Do you want to live?” Mr. Duggar said, as plainly as you’d ask someone if they wanted a cup of tea.

I felt myself nodding, not even sure where the ability came from. I was now alone with this madman, far off in the remote wilderness. No one would come looking for us anytime soon. I needed to play for time.

“Good,” he said, keeping the pistol pointed at me. “I have a new set of coordinates for you. A cabin, not too far from here. We’re going to go there.” He motioned with the pistol towards the cave entrance. “Now move it.”

I struggled to my feet, my knees almost buckling underneath me. I looked down at the brothers, and I saw so much blood that I nearly fainted. A sharp prod in the side from Mr. Duggar’s gun propelled me out of the cave back into the bright sunlit day.

“Just put them out of your mind, Teresa,” Mr. Duggar said, soothingly.

“You, you’re crazy! You’re a psychopath!” I said, trembling against the stone wall of the ravine. “Help!” I screamed.

“Scream all you want, Teresa. No one is out here. But if you won’t cooperate, I’ll have no use for you,” he said, punctuating the last few words by cocking the hammer back on the pistol.

“Ok, ok!” I said, panicking. “I’ll do whatever you want!”

“Excellent! there’s hope for you yet,” he said. From his pocket he produced a small slip of paper.

My trembling hand took it from him. It was a longitude and latitude coordinate pairing. I took out my map. “Please, can you call an ambulance? Maybe someone can get here in time to help them.”

“Your loyalty will get you in trouble, Teresa. Right now you’ve got more pressing concerns,” he said. He tapped the barrel of the pistol against the map.

I checked the coordinates against the map and nodded. “I can get you there.”

“You can get us there,” he said, correcting me.

I grit my teeth together and tried to stop my eyes from tearing up. I didn’t want to give this bastard the satisfaction.

“Obstinate as well? We’ll have to work on that,” he said. “Lead on, navigator!”

I trudged out of the ravine, Mr. Duggar close behind. Every step was a battle against letting out a sob. The thought of Jimmy and Dale in that dank dark cave, possibly still alive…It was maddening.

But Mr. Duggar was right about one thing: I had a more pressing concern right now. Murderers didn’t have much reason to leave witnesses if they didn’t have to. I was a liability for him, a loose end. I had to play my cards just right, and act when the time was right. Or I was going to end up in a cave somewhere as well.

I knew I couldn’t run. His gun would make short work of me, and he wouldn’t hesitate to use it. So that left fighting, and again I was outmatched. He had a good eight inches and hundred pounds in his advantage. I had my big knife, but I don’t think he’d let me get close enough to use it.

“Ok, let’s take a break,” Mr. Duggar said.

We’d been hiking for five hours since the cave, and my muscles were screaming. My legs were cramping, probably because I was dehydrated. I unbuckled my chest strap and felt thirty pounds fall off my shoulders. I rolled my shoulders and stretched, scanning the area. A massive stone ledge stuck out over the expanse of wilderness below. 

We were ascending the side of Mt. Gennis, and were at least twenty miles from the nearest road or sign or civilization. It was getting late, and if we pushed all night we’d get to his location by morning. Pushing hard at night was dangerous, especially when we were pushing through un-trailed wilderness.

“Eat,” he said.

“I’m not hungry,” I said.

He chuckled. “Teresa, things are going to go a lot smoother between us if we have an understanding. When I tell you something, it isn’t a request. It isn’t a suggestion. It isn’t a friendly reminder.”

I bent over and unstrapped the top of my pack. I pulled out my food bag and held it up to him, then sat down.

“See, isn’t that better? If your generation was just more amenable to listening to your superiors, you’d be so much more successful,” he said. “Those two back there,” he said with a dismissive wave behind him, “they were a bad influence. You have to protect yourself from bad influences, Teresa. Bad friends are worse than enemies. An enemy will only attack you. A bad friend will change you.”

I sighed and pulled out a small pouch of jerky and began chewing. I knew it was probably ten times my daily dose of salt, but I didn’t taste it. I looked out over the ledge, at the tops of the trees thousands of feet below. So beautiful, and I hated every inch of it.

Mr. Duggar walked over near me and snatched my backpack. With the gun trained on me, he dug inside my pack blindly with his other hand. He pulled out my massive bowie knife.

“Haha! What was this for?” he said, turning the knife over in his hands.

“Protection,” I said, mumbling and looking away.

“It’s a good thing you’ve got me for protection now,” he said. He cocked his arm back and hurled my knife as hard as he could off the side of the mountain. I watched it sail out and downward. It seemed to fall for ages before it became an indiscernible speck and got lost.

“Ahh, this is better,” he said, pulling my Leatherman from my pack. “Now, this is a good tool. Multiple uses, compact, excellent choice.” His arm pulled back and shot forward, sending my multi-tool out over the side of the mountain. He dropped my pack back next to me. “I’m glad we got that out of the way. We can’t have any surprises.”

I stared at the ground, the despair of my situation coming over me. I concentrated on a single leaf, a brown five pronged thing. I saw the edges of my vision go blurry, I knew I was about to lose it. Some small part of me wanted to give up. Why fight it?

“How long until we reach our destination?” he said.

“I don’t know,” I said.

“Teresa, Teresa,” he said, standing and walking over to me. He grabbed the back of my head, his fingers tightly curling into my hair. He forced my face up to look at him. “Are you trying to anger me?”

My mouth trembled, trying to apologize.

“When I get angry, I get irrational. I forget what we’re trying to accomplish. I forget about our team, Teresa. I just see you as a problem. Are you a problem?” he said, baring his teeth savagely.

“No! No!” I said, pleading. “I’m not a problem! Umm, ten, ten hours!” I said, regretting it. It was the truth, and something I wanted to keep from him. I could have stretched that out to buy myself more time.

Instead I’d handed him my last means of survival.

He released my hair and patted me on the head. “Good, good,” he said, returning to his pack. “I don’t see any point in trying to hike through tonight. We’ll camp here tonight.”

He reached into his pack and pulled out a length of steel chain. Almost twenty feet long, with a padlock on each end.

“I’m afraid tonight is going to be…uncomfortable for you,” he said. “But you won’t have to go through this again, I promise.”

He kept his pistol trained on me while and walked the chain backwards towards a large tree. He circled the tree and secured one end of the chain with the padlock. He walked away from the tree and motioned me over to it with the pistol.

I stood, walking over to the tree. My shoulders sagged, my head drooped down. I had to give it to this son of a bitch, he’d come prepared. I sat down at the base of the tree and locked the chain around my waist. The sound of the click reverberated through me. Before that moment, physical escape was an option. It had consequences, but it was an option.

“Excellent!” he said, putting the pistol away. He pulled my sleeping bag out of my pack and threw it over to me. “I don’t think it will rain tonight, but just in case, you can use this as a tarp.” He threw my tent shell over to me as well.

He began setting up his tent opposite me, with plenty of space between us. I looked past him out at the darkening sky. I realized this was the first night Dale and Jimmy weren’t alive to see. I looked up at the stars, brilliant specks in the dark blanket of the sky. 

I didn’t go to sleep as much as drift in and out of consciousness. At one point I was convinced I was dreaming some horrible nightmare, but the cinched chain around my waist wouldn’t budge. If this was a nightmare, I was stuck for the duration. I heard the birds begin to chirp, and saw a brightness cast over the clouds at the horizon. 

“Stop,” Mr. Duggar said.

We were trudging up another mountain, cutting across an old bootlegger trail. It was early in the afternoon, and we were getting close to his destination. I didn’t know what would happen when we got there, but I knew I was running out of time.

I leaned up against the side of a tree, putting as much of my weight against it as possible. I was exhausted. Too exhausted to cry, too exhausted to care. I heard a beeping sound behind me and turned to see Mr. Duggar with a small black box in his hand.

He waved it left and right, and the beeping became faster or slower, like it was homing in on something nearby. Then he pointed it up the side of the mountain we were on and the tempo increased even more.

“You did it. Good girl,” he said.

Another hundred feet up the trail, we veered left and kept walking in the direction of the beeps. We were near a large clearing in the trees, strange because they were all recently cleared. I saw ragged chainsawed stumps extend in every direction.

Mr. Duggar’s little device began beeping very fast, and he pushed a pile of branches away from the side of the mountain. Behind them, a pair of large doors stood. It was a shipping container, buried in the side of the mountain!

He lifted one of the handles and pulled on the door. It opened with a loud creak, the sound of rust and metal that had warped under the fierce mountain weather. He reached in with one hand and flicked a switch. Christmas tree lights lit up the interior of the shipping container.

“Inside,” he motioned with the pistol.

I obeyed, too exhausted to consider disobeying at this point. I stumbled into the shipping container, steadying myself against one wall. It was functional and sterile. A few plastic folding tables lined one wall, stacked with paperwork, boxes, and some survival gear. there was a cot at the very end. I collapsed onto it and lay there, staring up at the ceiling of the container. Well, here we were. Had I used up my usefulness?

“There might still be some food in here if we’re lucky. Thank you, Teresa. I know this wasn’t easy for you. It’s great to see that there are still young people with a good work ethic,” he said.

“Fuck you,” I said.

“I won’t let you besmirch what good graces you’ve earned. You know the value of being a team player,” he said, pulling out his satellite phone. “Just sit tight for a little while. I’ve just got to wrap up one last piece of business.”

He walked out of the container and shut the door, locking it shut.

I felt tears begin to come up into my eyes, but I forced them down. I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of seeing me broken in my last moments. I had to think, to figure out some way out of this. It took all my willpower to sit up, to ignore the call of the cot below me. I stood up, wobbling past my backpack and over to the table.

I could hear him talking outside, in a heated discussion of some sort. I made sure he was occupied and searched through the survival supplies on the table. It was just some clothes and other sundries. I found a Cliff Bar and tore into it. My body was grateful for the calories, and I could feel the energy returning to me.

“God damnit!” Mr. Duggar shrieked from outside.

Then I heard it. Some kind of thrumming sound getting closer, very quickly. Soon it was deafeningly loud, coming from somewhere overhead. Small rocks pelted the doors of the container as the helicopter hovered above. Then it pulled away, heading off into the distance. 

Lying on the table was another thing I hadn’t seen yet. A book. I couldn’t tell you what the title was, but it featured a hiker falling on his back with a large black bear towering over him.

I had my plan.

I moved back to where my pack was and slung it over my shoulder. I edged over to the door, feeling the adrenaline surge through me. I was done with the passivity. I was done with the victimhood.

It was time to fight.

I crouched down slightly, my hand reaching back into my pack’s side pocket to grab my salvation. My last hope. I had one shot at this, one clean motion. Surprise was something I couldn’t squander. I wouldn’t have another shot.

I heard two more people join Mr. Duggar outside the doors of the container. I flicked the switch off, turning off the lights inside. The mechanism unlocked as someone began opening the door. The darkness was interrupted by a crack of light.

I barreled into the door, hoping the additional weight of my pack would catch whomever was on the other side of it flatfooted. I hit it hard, and the person on the other side took the full force to the face. I heard them fall backwards but couldn’t give them another thought. I kept going forward.