Hostage Negotiation (14 page)

Five feet. Four. He lifted the knife above his head, and she saw her death in his dark, soulless eyes.

“Don’t worry,” he taunted. “I’m not going to kill you. Yet. I’m going to punish you first. Slowly. And then...then, I’ll kill you.”

The knife came down in a slashing motion toward her good shoulder. She dodged left at the last second then dove to the ground as he whirled around, arcing the knife toward her again. She landed, hard, letting out a scream when her bad arm flung out, tearing at her shoulder. He laughed and jumped on top of her, pinning her to the ground.

And once again, he had her. Just like before, his greater weight anchoring her down, making it impossible for her to move. She stared up into his cold, dark eyes, hoping to see something, anything, of the human being that existed behind the mask. But she saw no empathy, no flicker of guilt or regret, only cold determination, and sickening triumph as he once again raised his knife above his head.

She closed her eyes. His body jerked against hers and she waited, expecting the slashing burn of the knife any second. A guttural roar of rage sounded above her and he rolled off her.

Her eyes flew open and she stared in stunned amazement to see Zack holding the devil’s wrist, both men rolling on the ground, grappling for control of the knife.

“Run, Kaylee!” Zack yelled without looking at her. “Get out of here.”

She braced her good hand on the tree beside her, shoving herself to her knees. She looked over her shoulder at Zack, on his back now, with the devil above him, trying to stab the knife down into Zack’s throat. They were locked in a life-and-death struggle, both men seemingly equally matched, except that her captor had managed to pin Zack and was using his position on top to his advantage.

There must be something she could do. She took a wobbly step toward them.

“Run,” Zack ordered again, and his gaze flitted her way, a frown wrinkling his forehead. “For God’s sakes, Kaylee, get out of here.”

She took off running, past the struggling men, back the other way. When she found a break in the thick trees, she headed between them.

A shout sounded behind her in the distance, followed by cursing. Then another shout, this one sounding like someone in terrible pain. Zack? Had he been hurt? Stabbed? Worse? She stumbled to a halt, clutching her bad arm against her middle. She turned around, took one step then stopped. Zack needed help. She had to help him.

Can’t do it. Can’t go back. Can’t.

But how could she not? Somehow Zack had managed to untie himself, or perhaps get out of one of those horrible boxes, if that was where he’d been. But instead of running, escaping, saving himself, he’d run
toward
the devil...to save
her
. She couldn’t leave him alone to fight, to possibly die, because of her. Hadn’t she done that once before? Convincing herself she’d come back with help? Instead, by the time she’d managed to send help, it was too late. Mary had paid the price for Kaylee’s poor decision, her cowardice. She couldn’t let that happen again. She couldn’t leave Zack.

But she was practically useless with her arm slowing her down as it was, with the pain blinding her, making mush of her thoughts. She had to do something about it. She reached up with her good hand and yanked, hard, at the row of buttons on her shirt. They popped off, flying through the air to land in the slightly damp soil. Clenching her teeth against the pain, she pulled her shirt off her good side then raked it down her bad arm in one, swift movement. A groan of agony wheezed from her, but the worst was over. Clad now only in her bra and jeans, she strung the shirt around her neck, using one hand and her teeth to put a knot in the end. Then she slid her injured hand through the loop her shirt made.

Immediately, the pressure eased and the pain cut dramatically as her arm relaxed in the makeshift sling. Now, without the pain fogging her mind, she just might be more help than hindrance. She searched the path as she started forward again. There, a short, almost straight length of branch that had broken off a tree. It was about the thickness and length of a baseball bat. With her hand around the end, letting the stick hang down by her side, she took off running toward where she’d last seen Zack, and prayed she wasn’t too late.

Chapter Fifteen

Kaylee stumbled to a halt, hoisting her bat up to her shoulder when she saw the devil and Zack. They were both on their feet now, circling each other like two wrestlers, looking for an opening. Physically, they looked about evenly matched—except for the wicked-looking, eight-inch blade in the devil’s hand. There was a smear of blood on Zack’s right forearm, but it didn’t seem to be bleeding. Kaylee looked for the source of the blood then saw it—a three-inch slash in the denim covering Zack’s right thigh. Blood was oozing out, darkening his jeans.

She gasped in dismay and took a step forward.

Zack’s gaze darted to her and he shouted something. Too late, she realized her mistake. The devil whirled around toward her, slashing his knife down. She swung instinctively with her makeshift bat. The knife’s blade bit into the wood and glanced off.

Zack dove toward the devil just as he snatched the knife from the wood. The man yanked it up and out, catching Zack in the shoulder. Zack cursed and grabbed the man’s wrist, twisting it viciously. Kaylee stumbled back, out of the way, searching for her tree branch. A pained shout sounded behind her. She turned around to see the knife go flying off into the woods. Both men grappled against each other, rolling on the path.

Kaylee found the tree branch and ran forward. As soon as the devil rolled on top of Zack, she hauled back and swung as hard as she could. He screamed in pain as it slammed into the side of his rib cage. He kicked out with both feet, shoving Zack away from him. And then he was on his feet, sprinting down the path.

Zack was slower to get up, staggering after the devil, favoring his hurt leg. Kaylee ran up to him.

“Wait, you’re losing too much blood. We have to stop the bleeding.”

He looked down at her, his eyes unfocused as he swayed on his feet. And then he sank to the ground, landing hard on his knees. He shook his head, obviously trying to clear his vision.

Kaylee braced him to keep him from falling. She looked toward where the devil had disappeared. She didn’t hear anything. Maybe he wouldn’t come back. No, she knew better. He wasn’t the type to stop, to give up. He would come back. And they needed to get out of here before he did.

She set her stick on the ground beside them and checked his shoulder. “Not very deep. It’s barely bleeding.” She moved to his side, gently peeled the cut fabric back from the wound and winced. “But this one is bad.” She pressed her hand down on the wound, trying to staunch the bleeding.

He sucked in a breath, his face going pale. His Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat and then he turned his head, looking at her, his eyes just inches from hers.

“Why did you come back?” he asked, his voice tight. “I told you to run.”

She gave him a sad smile. “You came for me, put your own life in danger to save me. How could I leave you?” And then, figuring life was way too short not to finally do what she’d wanted to do since waking up to see him standing guard beside her hospital bed, she closed the last few inches between them and kissed him.

He froze—in shock or disgust she wasn’t sure. Embarrassed either way, she started to pull back. Then one of his hands hooked around her, pressing between her shoulder blades, and his lips moved against hers in a fiery, mind-numbing kiss. Shock then, definitely not disgust, as he deepened the kiss in a wild frenzy that had her sinking against him, wanting to get as close as possible—until her hurt arm cried out in protest.

She tore her mouth free, ignoring the sting of pain from where she’d sunk her teeth into it before, but unable to ignore the pain of her shoulder. She fell back off his lap. He frowned and caught her arm, bracing her.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

“No, you shouldn’t have.” His smile softened his words and he ran his thumb gently over her bruised, cut lips, making her breath catch at the soft caress. “But only because we need to get moving before he comes back. Otherwise, feel free to kiss me anytime you want.” In spite of the pain he must have been in, he winked.

She felt that wink all the way to her toes. Between the kiss and that sexy look, her world had just tilted on its axis. And suddenly, she had a whole lot more to live for.

He gently shoved her back and staggered to his feet. Then he pulled her up with him. He searched the gloom around them, every muscle tense, before looking down at her again. “Your shoulder?”

“Dislocated, I think. When he yanked me up out of the box, it twisted and I felt a pop.”

He frowned and ran his hand very carefully across the top of her shoulder, his touch infinitely gentle as he pressed his fingers down, feeling the damage. But still, it had her sweating just to stand there and not jerk away.

“Sorry,” he said. “I can help with this, pop it back in. But it’s going to hurt.”

“Will I be able to use it once you do?”

“Better than you’re using it now. And it won’t hurt nearly as much once it’s back in place.”

She looked down the path. “He’ll come back, won’t he?”

“Count on it. We need to get out of here, get you hidden somewhere safe so I can find him and end this once and for all.”

“Your leg—”

“Is fine. You stopped the bleeding.”

She glanced down, surprised to see that he was right. “We still need to bind it.”

“I’ll tie my shirt around it. Just as soon as we take care of your arm.” He leaned over her and untied the knot in her shirt, dropping it to the ground.

She grabbed her hurt arm, which was throbbing now that she didn’t have the sling to keep the pressure off her shoulder.

He took her left hand in his and braced his other on her hurt shoulder.

“What are you going to—” She sucked in a breath and squeezed her eyes shut as he slowly pulled on her arm, stretching it out toward him. “It hurts, it hurts, it—” She let out a gasp as something popped.

“It’s over now,” he whispered, pulling her to him, cradling her against his chest. “Don’t cry, Kaylee. I’m sorry that I hurt you. But it’s over now.”

She blinked, surprised to realize that he was right. Tears were flowing down her cheeks. But she also realized something else; she could move her hand, her arm, without pain exploding through her body. She gently shoved back from him and tested her left arm, amazed that she could lift it again. It still hurt, but more like a strained muscle than the agony she’d been in earlier. She could handle a strain.

“You fixed it.” She started to lift her arm higher, testing her range of movement.

He stopped her, forcing her arm back down. “Don’t. The tendons are stretched, maybe even torn. Your arm could pop out again or do even more damage if you lift it very high.”

She nodded, rubbing her shoulder with her other hand. “How did you know how to do that?”

“Training, and growing up on a remote farm with three roughhousing brothers, hours away from the nearest hospital. You learn what you have to.”

He picked up her crumpled shirt and shook it out before helping her into it. He smiled at the lack of buttons then grabbed the ends and tied them together.

“Best I can do,” he said.

“Thank you.”

He had already turned away and was searching some nearby bushes for something. A moment later he straightened, holding the knife that the devil had carried. It was stained with blood. He wiped it across his jeans then yanked his pocket inside out, letting it hang beside his leg. He cut a slit in the stitching on the top, creating a makeshift scabbard for the knife, which he slid inside.

“What are you,” she asked, “former military or something?”

“Hunter,” he said. “I know all the tricks. If I had the right tools—binoculars, a crossbow or a gun, I’d have taken that creep out long ago. But at least now I have the knife. Come on. We need to get moving.” He held his hand out for hers.

She reached down and grabbed her stick first, held it in her still-sore left hand so she could put her right hand in his. “Where are we going?”

“I’d like to find that sick animal and take him out. But I’m not naive enough to think that all he brought with him was a knife. He planned this. He’s got something else up his sleeve. And we need to get as far from here as we can, as fast as we can, before he finds us again.”

His ominous words had her staring at the shadows around them in trepidation. For some reason she’d hoped that after the fight with Zack, that their captor would have realized there was too much at stake, that he’d be safer if he went back to wherever he came from. But what Zack said rang true. He’d gone to great risk ramming that van into their truck at the rest stop. Someone could have seen them, called it in. Whatever he’d brought them here to do was something he deeply wanted to do. And just because he’d lost the first round didn’t mean he’d stop now. If anything, he had more incentive, more anger to feed his sickness, to make him want revenge.

“We’ll head out a bit,” Zack said, “then I’ll find a tall tree to climb so I can see where we are, and hopefully find a road or a way out of here. Do you recognize anything around here? Is this one of the camps where he held you?”

They headed down the path, away from where the devil had run just a few minutes earlier.

She shook her head. “No. The only thing familiar is that he had me in a box and took me to one of his torture trees.”

He gave her a sharp look. “Torture trees? You mean, like the one you showed me at the camp earlier today?”

She nodded. “Where he would chain me...hurt me. But he didn’t get to tie me up this time. I dropped my legs out from beneath me, threw him off balance. Then I ran.”

He nodded approvingly. “How did he get you, back at the rest stop? Did he taser you, too?”

“No, he stuck a needle in my neck, knocked me out. I didn’t know he’d tasered you. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s better than a bullet. But trust me. If I get a chance to return the favor and send him on a five-second ride, let him know how it feels, I won’t hesitate.”

She laughed then tugged his arm to stop him. “Wait, it’s too thick to get through that way,” she warned. “That’s where I got trapped earlier.”

He nodded, studying the bushes and trees that seemed to be closing in on them. “This way.” He urged her off the path to their left, finding a gap she hadn’t seen.

A deafening boom echoed through the woods, and the bark beside Zack’s head seemed to explode.

He grabbed Kaylee and yanked her behind the tree just as another boom sounded. Kaylee’s dazed mind finally registered what the sound was. Somebody had just shot at them.

“Run, Kaylee, run,” Zack urged, pulling her with him through the thick underbrush.

This time she didn’t think twice. She took off, running faster than she’d ever run in her life.

* * *

O
NE
THING
Z
ACK
had learned upon moving to Mystic Glades just a few months ago—there were over two and a half million acres in this endless swamp. And right now it seemed like he and Kaylee had been plopped right down into the middle of it, with no way out and a lunatic with a rifle tracking them. He hadn’t told Kaylee his suspicions, and it had taken a couple of hours of running, hiding, starting, stopping, as they made their way deeper and deeper into the Everglades for him to realize exactly what was going on.

The devil was playing with them. They were being herded like sheep, and hunted.

He didn’t know if that was what their pursuer had planned originally. But it was what he was doing now. He was taking potshots at trees near them every once in a while, but never hitting them. Zack didn’t think either of them was lucky enough to have avoided getting hit after eight separate rifle shots. So the only alternative that made sense was that they were being hunted like wild game, being driven onward, toward some unknown goal. He had to figure out where they were, get the lay of the land and make a plan. Or neither of them was going to survive much longer.

He glanced at her walking beside him as they caught their breath from the last few minutes of running. Her eyes were haunted. Dark bruises were forming beneath them, and she looked shell-shocked, walking wounded, close to breaking down. That was what that evil maniac behind them had done, terrified her until she was on the brink of giving up, or closing in on herself, perhaps curling into a fetal position and surrendering to whatever was going to happen to them.

Well, forget that. Zack had to figure out a way to go on the offensive, to take control of this situation. He’d hoped to outrun their pursuer, find a place to put Kaylee so she’d be safe while he went after the hunter. But they couldn’t seem to get far enough ahead of him to do that. Even now, the distant sound of footsteps could occasionally be heard, steadily gaining on them. And any minute, when they stepped too far left or right, too far away from the cover of trees, the rifle would boom. Bark would explode. And they’d be forced to run again. They were already so tired that just walking was a struggle. Both of them were running out of steam.

It was time to make a stand.

He looked down at his inside-out pocket, considering the knife. Taking a knife to a gunfight was a recipe for disaster, and pretty much worthless in the scheme of things. Beside him, Kaylee still clutched her stick. She’d managed to get one good wallop on their attacker earlier. But in a close fight, she’d never have enough leverage to do true damage. She was too small, and with only one good arm. Her damaged shoulder would never stand up to the strain of her using both hands to swing that stick like a bat. He’d have to leave her the knife. There was no other way.

He pulled her behind a thick tree stand, with three giant oaks giving them cover for now, until their captor caught up to them again.

“Kaylee, here.”

She blinked up at him in surprise as she automatically took the knife he held out to her. But then she was shaking her head, holding the knife back out to him. “No, whatever you’re wanting to try, just stop it. Take the knife back. We’re in this together.”

“Keep it. Make a slit in the waistband of your pants so the blade hangs out and doesn’t cut your thigh. Then cover it with your shirt. He’ll never expect that from you. If I fail, and he finds you, let him get in close. Act terrified—”