Wilderness Target (14 page)

FOURTEEN

E
zra heard the helicopter before he saw the two men. From a distance, Ezra could see that Clarissa was no longer in the spot where she’d been resting. A quick scan of the area revealed that she wasn’t anywhere close by. Though being separated from her caused tightness in his chest, it might be a good thing that she wasn’t visible. Max’s two thugs were making their way up the trail.

When he’d heard the helicopter, he’d hoped to get a glimpse of it on the off chance that it was a rescue helicopter. The chopper left the area before he ever saw it, however. Then he caught sight of the men stopped by the patch of brush where Clarissa had been sleeping. He slipped behind the rock where he’d been hiding, lifting his head high enough to watch them.

Don kicked the brush around and then held up something and showed it to the other man. An item must have fallen out of her pack. Ezra cringed. Though he couldn’t hear what was said, the pointing and gestures indicated that whatever Clarissa had left behind was enough to clue them in that she was in the area.

His heart lurched as he looked around for any sign of movement that might indicate where she was. He needed to be with her, to know that she was safe. One of the men pointed down with his rifle. A moment later, both the thugs headed toward the forest.

Waiting to avoid detection was excruciating. Ezra didn’t like sitting still for any reason, but the sense of urgency he felt to catch up with Clarissa made him want to jump up and run down the mountain.

He peeked out from behind the rock. The voices of the two men had faded, but he could still see the yellow and red of their shirts. He darted toward a pile of brush that would provide some cover. Keeping an awareness of the men’s location, he worked his way down the mountain. Not being able to take the trail meant he was probably traveling twice the distance of the thugs, but his greater experience in hiking made him able to keep up with their pace.

The men’s voices carried on the wind. Ezra dived into the tall grass as they came around a bend in the trail. He was so close he could hear their boots crunching on the pebbles. He pressed his body against the hard ground.

One of the men, the older one, stopped and peered down the mountain. “Hey.” He lifted his rifle and looked through the scope. “There she is.”

The air froze in Ezra’s lungs, and he felt an invisible weight on his back pinning him in place. The man placed his finger on the trigger. Ezra dug his hands into the dirt, ready to pounce. Clarissa was not going to be gunned down like an animal, not on his watch.

The second thug edged toward the first. “I don’t see her.”

Don let the rifle fall to his side. “I saw her. She’s down there.”

“Let’s go get her then,” said Zeke. “Fitzgerald doesn’t want her getting out of these woods alive.”

Ezra waited only a few minutes before jumping up and heading down the mountain. The thugs had picked up the pace and now jogged down the trail. Ezra moved as quickly as he could.

He didn’t want to risk being spotted himself, but he needed to get to Clarissa before the armed men did.

* * *

Though anxiety coiled in her stomach, Clarissa pushed herself to go faster. She looked over her shoulder. Still no Ezra. And then she saw the flash of yellow and red through the brush. The men were moving pretty fast down the trail. They must have spotted her.

Their voices carried on the wind. Don ordered Zeke to go in a different direction. She scanned the area for possible places to hide.

The talking had stopped, and she couldn’t see either of the men. What would Ezra do if he were in her position? She studied the open field in front of her and calculated a path that would take her from one covered position to another. The last fifty yards would have to be at an all-out run. Taking in a breath, she steeled herself and sprinted toward the first patch of tall grass.

The thug in the yellow shirt, Zeke, came into view. He stopped scanning the open field as he made his way toward it. He disappeared again behind a cluster of aspen trees. She shot to her feet and ran toward some brush.

When she looked through the leaves of the bush she crouched behind, she could see both men some distance from each other but moving toward her. They were too close. There was no way she could keep running without being spotted. Clarissa flattened herself behind the bush. Though its leaves had turned gold and orange, there was still enough of them to keep her hidden from view...unless the men came too close or veered around her side of the bush. She’d be an easy target if that happened.

She decided to crawl the remaining distance. Pulling herself with her arms, she covered several feet of ground, stopped, assessed where the men were and then crawled some more. The trees were a stone’s throw away when the first rifle shot passed over her head. She lurched to her feet and ran the remaining distance to a cluster of trees as another shot boomed behind her.

* * *

Ezra heard the rifle shots just as he entered the forest. He sprinted toward the sound.

Please, God, don’t let her have been hit.

The shouts of the thugs pressed on his ears and a moment later the one in the yellow shirt ran past him. Ezra trailed behind the man, relieved to see him by himself. Ezra could take on one of the armed men, but not both at once. He followed Zeke, slipping behind trees every time the thug sensed his presence.

If the man was still searching, Clarissa must be alive. The thug stopped. Breathing heavily, he slumped down on a log. Ezra raced toward him. His footfalls were so soft the man didn’t even turn to look around until Ezra was on top of him. He grabbed the rifle and slapped the man across the face. The thug crumpled to the ground, falling on his hands. Ezra was preparing to hit him one more time when he felt a blow to the back of his head.

Spots appeared before his eyes as he swung around to defend himself from Don. Ezra got in a solid hit to the face and blow to the man’s stomach before the ground seemed to swallow him up. Pine needles prickled Ezra’s skin as his vision dimmed.

“No, don’t kill him,” said Zeke. “I saw the woman. She’s around here. This guy will make good bait.”

The last thing he heard before everything went black was Don yelling, “Hey, Clarissa, we got your boyfriend!”

* * *

From high up in the tree where she’d taken refuge, Clarissa watched the two men drag Ezra’s body toward an open area. She gasped. Was he dead? She gripped the branch until her knuckles turned white. Zeke disappeared into the woods.

Don pulled string out of his pack. He dragged Ezra toward a tree and propped him against it. She let out a breath. He must be alive if Don was tying him up.

Her stomach clenched into knots. Ezra had ended up in this situation only because he’d wanted to help her. She had to find a way to get him free.

She watched for over an hour as Zeke gathered wood and built a fire. The two men ate from their packs. Ezra’s head jerked suddenly. She winced when he hit the back of his head on the tree trunk.

The thugs acknowledged that he had awakened, but then continued to eat. Her own stomach growled as she made her way down the tree. The men were watching their rifles closely. No doubt they’d kept Ezra alive to draw her in.

Don had nearly captured her. She gotten away when his foot had caught on a root and he’d fallen. He knew how close she was, and he knew she’d come looking for Ezra.

They’d be on high alert through the night, probably taking turns keeping watch. They might even patrol the area. She moved in a wide arc around the camp, still uncertain what she could do that wouldn’t get both of them killed.

They had rifles. She had a pocketknife. There were two of them and one of her. She moved in a little closer to where the men were camped. What she needed was a moment when they were both distracted. If she could get Ezra untied...

She crawled a little nearer, to where she had a clear view of Ezra. Don had his back to him but Zeke watched their captive closely.

Ezra shifted from side to side, probably trying to get more comfortable. His hands were behind his back, angled around a narrow tree. She gripped the pocketknife. If she could get near enough to give him the knife, he could cut himself free.

She edged as close as she could while still remaining hidden by the trees. The metal pocketknife was cold to the touch. She had a clear view of the tree and his back. She had one chance to get the knife in his hands.

Don and Zeke continued to complain about how tired they were from tromping through the woods, and how Max better have a big payday for them. Zeke finally left the camp to go to the bathroom. This was her chance. She scooted out from the protection of the trees, focused on Ezra’s hands and tossed the knife. It clipped his fingertips and landed a few inches away.

She ducked back into the cover of the trees. With his limited reach, Ezra patted the dirt around his hands. She tensed. Was the knife too far away? He continued to search the ground. At last she saw his fingertips touch the metal. He clawed through the dirt, grasping the handle. He had the knife.

Zeke returned. The two men continued to complain about their job. Clarissa retreated deeper into the trees while Ezra cut through the rope. She found a log with another tree fallen on top of it, the perfect hiding place. She couldn’t see what was going on in the camp, but she could hear.

“Do you want some water?” Don asked Ezra.

Clarissa tensed. Would he untie Ezra for that?

Ezra’s answer was slow in coming. “Sure, I could use some.”

She listened to the exchange, unable to see anything from her hiding place. The sky darkened. Gradually, the loud conversation of the two men subsided. She knew Ezra was waiting for the right moment—most likely when one man was asleep and the other distracted. Ezra had probably cut through the rope ages ago.

Her legs cramped from being in such a tight space but the hiding spot was too perfect to abandon. Someone could walk by her and not see her, yet she could hear everything that was going on in the camp. A quiet settled in around her, and all she heard was the crackling of the fire. Once she nodded off. She opened and shut her eyes, then shook her head to stay awake.

Footsteps pounded past not far from her. At the camp, one of the men voiced a string of expletives. With her heart racing, Clarissa crawled out of her hiding place and headed in the general direction where she’d heard the footsteps.

She’d run only twenty yards when a hand grabbed her from the side.

“Clarissa.” Ezra’s voice was a song to her heart.

She fell into his arms, giving him a quick hug and wishing it could be longer. “We have to go.”

Keeping hold of her hand, Ezra darted through the forest. They ran through the dark, weaving in and out of the trees. The shouts of the men behind them died down, but that didn’t mean they were safe. The thugs would likely opt for the element of surprise instead of broadcasting their position.

After more than an hour of being chased, Ezra led her to a high place that provided a view of the valley below.

“There,” he said, pointing to two lights bobbing through the trees. “I know how we can get away from them. Follow me.”

Without a flashlight, Clarissa hung close to Ezra, stepping where he stepped. They traveled for what seemed like hours before finding a place in the forest to rest. Clarissa slumped to the ground, using a tree for a backrest.

“That was really something back there—you getting me out of there.” Admiration colored his voice.

She let out a laugh. “I just asked myself what would Ezra do?”

“Is that right?” He scooted closer to her.

“I’m starving.” She touched the hollow drum that was her stomach. “How much longer before we get to the river?”

“I’m hungry, too, but we don’t have time to find food. We took a detour to get away from those guys, so I’d say a few hours, if we hike through the night.”

Clarissa’s tired muscles felt suddenly heavier. A few hours seemed like a thousand years.

“I know you’re tired.” His hand covered hers in the dark. He must have picked up on her emotions. Was he that tuned in to how she was feeling?

They marched on through the night. The trees thinned and opened up. Off in the distance, she saw the warm glow of lights. She blinked, wondering if she was seeing things.

“Is that what I think it is?”

FIFTEEN

E
zra stood close to Clarissa, looking out at a cabin with smoke coming out of the chimney.

“Did you know someone lived out here?”

A sense of both joy and relief spread through him. “No, I didn’t. Like I said, we’re a little farther west than I usually go. The cabin might only be occupied seasonally, too.”

“Maybe whoever is in the cabin will have a phone we can use.” Her voice was filled with hope.

He, too, was ready for this ordeal to be over. Once they got to town and spoke to the police, these men could be rounded up. Maybe then he’d be able to help Clarissa get to the bottom of why Max was so bent on killing her.

They hiked toward the cabin, losing sight of it as they descended a hill and climbed up the other side. Though he relaxed a little with a goal in sight, Ezra hadn’t dropped his guard completely. The men had been persistent in chasing them, and they might have figured out where he and Clarissa had taken their detour.

“We can’t stay long. I don’t want to put whoever lives here at risk.”

“I know,” she said. “Just time enough to use their phone, and perhaps see if they have some food we can buy.”

“Yeah, I’m pretty hungry, too.” He snuck a glance at her as they walked side by side, her blond hair waving in the breeze and that look of determination on her face.

His fondness for Clarissa had only grown since she’d helped him escape the two thugs. She could have kept going and gotten away. Not only had she been brave and clever, she had risked her own life to save his. Maybe she would have done it for anyone, but he liked to think it revealed a bond between them.

They approached the cabin slowly in the dark. He couldn’t see a car or truck anywhere. With a cabin this remote, the owner might have to park some distance away and hike in. Through the window, he could see the glow of a burning fire. No other lights were on—not that he could see anyway. They’d probably be waking the occupant or occupants.

He knocked on the door. No answer.

Clarissa grasped his arm. “I hear something. It’s coming from the other side of the house.”

They walked around as the sound of an ax slicing through wood became more obvious. The man splitting logs had his back to them when they came around the corner. There was no way to alert him to their presence and not scare him.

Ezra cleared his throat.

The man spun around with the ax still in his hand.

“We didn’t mean to frighten you.” Clarissa spoke softly.

“We saw the lights of your cabin, and we’re in a bit of trouble,” Ezra added. “Do you have a phone we could use?”

The man studied them for a long moment with his mouth open. “I don’t have a phone. We come out here to disconnect from all that.” He gathered some split wood into his arms. “Have to keep the fire going all night to keep the cabin warm. That autumn chill is something else.”

Ezra picked up several of the split logs. “We can give you a hand with that.”

“I suppose that would be all right.” The man’s shifting gaze indicated he still didn’t totally trust them.

Clarissa gathered up several logs, as well. They followed the man around to the front of the house.

“You can just leave the wood on the porch.” He stood leaning against the door, sizing them up.

“We’re not intending to hurt you in any way,” said Clarissa. “It’s just that we really need some help.” Her voice faltered.

The door swung open, and an older woman in a bathrobe emerged. “Henry, what’s going on? I heard voices.”

“These folks have gotten themselves lost, Mae,” said Henry, not taking his eyes off Clarissa and Ezra. “They wanted to use our phone, but I told them we don’t have one out here.”

Mae looked at Clarissa, compassion welling up in her eyes. “The two of you look like you’ve been through the wringer. We can at least get you warmed up and give you something to eat.”

“I suppose it would be all right if you came inside and got warmed up.” Henry pushed the door open.

The cabin consisted of one room. An unlit kerosene lantern rested on the table beside a stack of books. A worn, comfortable-looking chair faced the fireplace. There were several coolers stacked in a corner along with some dry goods. The crackling of the fire and the heat it threw out was enticing.

“Have a seat.” Mae scurried around, placing a kettle on the wood stove. “I’ll get you folks some tea.”

Clarissa stepped forward. “We don’t want to take up too much of your time. There are some men after us, bad men. We don’t want to lead them to your door.”

“Oh, you poor dears,” said Mae.

Henry ran his hands through his silver-gray hair. He studied them for a long moment. Certainly, if their physical condition didn’t hint at the validity of their story, the emotion in Clarissa’s voice had.

Finally, the old man spoke. “Well, there is the boat.”

“You have a boat? Would you still have a way of getting out of here if we used it?”

“We hiked in. Truck is about five miles up the trail.” The man walked over to where his canned goods were stacked. He grabbed two cans off the shelf. “Go about two miles downriver. You’ll come to a sandbar. Make sure the boat is secured. I’ll find a way to get it.” He handed the cans to Clarissa. “That will put you close to the farms outside of New Irish.”

Clarissa wrapped her arms around Henry and hugged him. “Thank you.” The man seemed embarrassed by such a show of gratitude. Color rose up in his cheeks.

Still under the cover of darkness, Ezra and Clarissa left the cabin and found the boat at the end of a dilapidated wooden pier. Ezra untied the rope and pushed off with an oar. For a long time, the only sound was the slicing of his oar through the water as he navigated toward the other side of the river. The rippling water had a calming effect on him. The boat swayed gently back and forth. He knew he couldn’t allow himself to be lulled into thinking they were safe. There were two sets of men, a helicopter and Max all roaming the mountains looking for them.

He steered the boat closer to the opposite shore. Looking over at Clarissa, he noticed that she was swiping at her eyes.

“Are you...crying?”

“I’m just tired...and a little happy, too. We’re going to make it, aren’t we?”

“Looks that way.” They still had a long, arduous night ahead of them, but he did not want to destroy the hope that she had expressed. It was more valuable than anything they had in that backpack or any skill he possessed. Hope gave a person the strength to keep going against all odds.

“How long does it take to go two miles in a boat?”

“Hard to measure. I’m watching for that sandbar. But maybe what we should be looking for is the lights from those farmhouses,” he said.

She turned so she faced the shoreline, drawing her knees up to her chest. “Peaceful out here, isn’t it?”

“That’s why I love my job. You really haven’t gotten a chance to experience how special being out here can be.”

“I’m experiencing it now.” Waves lapped against the boat, creating an accompaniment to his oar cutting through the water. Clarissa’s blond hair shone in the moonlight as she tilted her head toward the night sky.

Their peace was short-lived. In the distance, he saw the flashing light of the helicopter. The whirring noise of the blades grew louder as it headed straight up the river toward them.

* * *

The drone of the chopper shattered Clarissa’s contentment and sent a surge of panic through her.

“Get down.” Ezra paddled hard and fast, veering toward the shore. The sound of the helicopter engine drowned out all other noise.

Even before they reached the beach, Ezra jumped out of the boat and pushed it toward the shore. Clarissa got out, as well, nearly falling in the waist-deep water, but recovering enough to help pull the boat to shore.

The chopper hovered over the water. Clearly, they’d been spotted. Ezra took off running, and she followed. They raced toward a field with tall plants in it ready for harvest. In the distance, a smattering of lights dotted the landscape.

Ezra dived down between the furrows. The helicopter landed and two men got out. The chopper then circled the fields, the two thugs running in a zigzag pattern and doubling back.

Clarissa let out a slow breath. At least their pursuers hadn’t seen where they were hiding. She glanced at the night sky. The helicopter wouldn’t be able to spot them, either, unless they were forced out into the open.

Ezra’s arm rested over her back. “Let’s follow this row of alfalfa as far as it will take us.”

She nodded in agreement, and together, they worked their way to the edge of the field. Beyond that was a fence, and in the distance, maybe half a mile away, a structure glowed with light and life.

“Now what?” Clarissa whispered into his ear.

“We wait,” he said. “Going out into the open would be suicide.”

The helicopter made several more passes. The droning and clanging of the engine sliced across Clarissa’s nerves. She drew her hands into fists and rested them against her forehead. How long could they keep doing this? She was tired, worn-out and ready to give up.

Ezra brushed his fingers over her hair, tucked a strand behind her ear and kissed her temple. “We’re going to make it,” he whispered.

He always seemed to know what she was feeling and how to pull her from the dark places her mind wanted to go. Gradually, the noise of the helicopter faded as the pilot searched farther away.

Now all they had to do was avoid being caught by the two men on the ground. One of them stomped by the edge of the field dangerously near to where they were lying. Clarissa tensed as her heart pounded against her rib cage. They waited. Her face pressed against the ground, and she breathed in dirt. One of the men shouted a command. The reply of the second man was dangerously close as he made his way up the row where they were hiding.

Clarissa scrambled to a different row, while Ezra rolled in the opposite direction. The thug swished the top of the alfalfa with his rifle as he drew near. Clarissa pressed her cheek against the hard earth once more. The ground vibrated with the sound of the footsteps growing closer. His polished boots were only inches from her face, which was shielded only by the tall plants and the darkness. Her throat went dry, and she feared her raging heartbeat would give her away. The moments ticked by as the boots turned slightly toward her. She clenched her teeth, not daring to take a breath or move even an eyelash.

The man stood still for what felt like a million years before stepping out and heading up toward where Ezra was hiding. The thug continued to peek between the rows of plants by pushing them aside with his rifle. She had no way to warn Ezra, and prayed that he’d moved farther back in the row.

The thug’s footsteps faded. After another ten or so minutes had passed, she couldn’t hear voices or footsteps. She lifted her head, not catching any sign that the men were close by. She rose to her knees and peered through the plants in all directions. Confident that they had moved on, she whispered, “Ezra.”

The plants made a rustling sound and then he was beside her. “They went off that way.”

“Toward the farmhouses.” She couldn’t hide her disappointment.

“Yeah, my guess is they will be knocking on every door, acting like policemen and saying we’re fugitives. They might even be searching the places. No farmer will help us.”

She glanced through the barbed wire fence. Three sets of lights glowed in the distance. “Even if we could get to one of those farmhouses before they did, we’d endanger the lives of the people there.”

“I think we’d be better off heading toward the road and trying to catch a ride into town,” he said.

A wave of sadness and fatigue hit her. “How far are we from New Irish?”

“Twenty minutes if we don’t catch a ride. It’s another hour to get back to Discovery by car.”

“If we can catch a ride before they catch us.” She hung her head, fighting hard not to give in to the encroaching despair.

He covered her hand with his. “I know that seems implausible right now, but don’t give up.” He pressed his palm against her cheek and drew her close. “We’re almost home. Three hours ago, we couldn’t even see the lights of civilization. Look how far we’ve come.”

“I’m so tired. This is hard,” she said.

“I know. I am, too.” His fingers brushed over her cheek. “But we need to keep moving. We’ve got to take advantage of the darkness while we have it.” He gathered her into his arms and held her close, his strength and warmth replenishing her spent energy and renewing her hope.

He rose to his feet and held out a hand for her, pulling her up. She’d never known someone like Ezra, strong and yet capable of such a gentle response to her discouragement. She supposed that was what made him a good leader—his ability to talk people off their emotional ledges. And he probably would have made the maximum effort to save her life no matter who she was. But she’d like to believe that there was something more driving his responses to her than a sense of duty. She certainly felt the stirrings of affection in her heart. For the first time in ten years, she entertained the possibility that love could come into her life.

They walked on until they entered a field where the hay had been harvested and rolled into huge cylindrical bales. Ezra stopped. “Let’s take a break and eat the canned goods Henry gave us.”

Clarissa slumped down to the ground beside a bale. Ezra handed her a can with a pull-off top. He rooted through the pack. “Do you suppose your spoon survived all this backpack has been through?”

She leaned close to him. “I don’t know.” The bag had new holes and tears from all the rough treatment. She took it and felt around. The water filter was still there as well as a cup. Her fingers grazed over the money she had stuffed in an inner pocket.

Just over a week ago, she’d been wearing nice suits, eating at expensive restaurants and sailing down the freeways of Los Angeles. Now she was searching a dirty, torn backpack, hoping to find a utensil so she didn’t have to eat with her fingers.

She recovered a spoon and a fork. “I have peaches. What do you have to eat?”

Ezra squinted in the dim light. “Looks like pork and beans.”