Furious (27 page)

F
ORTY
-S
IX

It was another hour before they were all loaded in the back of Colton’s truck. Dad, Steve, Beast, Rage, and Miranda. Faith rode in the front cab so she could show her brother the way. According to Miranda there could be anywhere from three to ten adults, including the woman referred to as Mother, at any one given time.

Faith had tried to talk Miranda into staying home with Mom and Jana, but she wouldn’t listen. These people had ruined her life, and she wanted to help take them down, especially Diane. Besides, Miranda had made a good point: the fact that she knew the grounds could prove to be invaluable.

Faith looked over at her brother as they drove along Highway 99. “If they harmed my children, I will go after them. I won’t stop until they’re dead, every single one of them. I’ll spend my life making them pay.”

“Let’s hope it won’t come to that.”

“I am worried about Dad coming along. Mom was right when she said he hadn’t yet fully recovered from his stroke. He’s still a little slow on his feet.”

“Dad’s the last person you have to worry about. If you’ve ever listened to any of his war stories, you would know that. He saved many lives on more than one occasion.”

“I’ve heard a few,” Faith said.

“He used to share them with Craig, Hudson, and me whenever we went camping.”

“He used to tell Hudson war stories?”

“I realize Hudson is only nine, but he’s a clever boy. This might be the first and only time I would say I’m actually glad that kid is so fearless. I wouldn’t be surprised if he finds a way to make contact with you.”

Faith prayed her brother was right. People always thought Hudson was much older than his age. He’d never met a stranger. He was adventurous and courageous.

“Do you remember the story Dad used to tell at the dinner table?” Colton asked. “The one where his unit met with heavy enemy resistance and Dad lay motionless on the ground until the enemy closed in. And when they did, he tossed a grenade their way and wounded or killed all of them.”

“I always thought Dad was making those stories up. But, yes, now that you mention it, I do remember.”

“Mom says Dad has always run in the direction of trouble, never away from it.”

It was quiet for a moment before Faith said, “No matter what happens, nothing will ever be the same again.”

“No. Nothing will ever be the same. Just don’t let what these people did destroy you, Faith. You’re a good person . . . compassionate and loving. Don’t let them take that from you. When Lara and Hudson return, they’re going to need their mom more than ever.”

“You agree with Dad, right? That they’re still alive?”

“I do. Hudson has a lot of our Dad in him . . . and he’s feisty like you. I bet he’s giving someone hell right now. And Lara. She’s quiet, but she’s smart. I have faith in both of them.”

Faith inhaled as she gazed ahead at the road in front of them.

Colton’s semitrailer wasn’t the only vehicle on the long stretch of highway. What were all these people doing in the middle of the night? She glanced up at the full moon. It was Christmas Day, she realized, and yet nobody had mentioned it.

Colton turned off the highway as Faith instructed. She could feel the gravel beneath the tires. They passed the section of the road where she’d asked the young man where the entrance to the motocross was and he told her she needed to turn around and leave. Faith called Rage on her cell phone. “Almost there. We’ll stop at the end of the drive and then stick with the plan. If the truck can’t make it up the drive, two of us will scout ahead.”

“Sounds good,” she said.

Up ahead where the open land ended and rows of tall pines and old oaks began, Colton pulled to the side of the road, shut off the engine, and turned off the lights.

Faith opened the door and jumped to the ground. The only sounds were frogs in a distant creek. Moonlight threw shadows across the trees in front of them, making the branches look like long, gangly arms with brittle fingers as she walked to the back of the truck where Colton was pulling the doors open.

One by one, they exited the truck.

Rage and Miranda jumped out last.

The empty fields behind them glittered like silver dust.

Little Vinnie passed out headlamps and three sets of walkie-talkies with a push-to-talk switch to start transmission.

Rage wore a headlamp and used the beam of light to see where to strap a hunting knife around her thigh.

Dad stepped out dressed in full camouflaged gear, including boots and hat. With a rifle strapped over his shoulder and his LC9 ready to go, he stood off to the side and waited quietly for everyone to gather their stuff. It was easy to imagine Dad as a military commander, a force to be reckoned with. The love she felt for him in that moment, knowing he would do whatever he could to rescue his grandkids, caused her heart to swell with pride, filling her with the determination she needed to see this to the end.

“I’ll be right back,” Colton said before he jogged up the drive, returning thirty seconds later. “Too many branches to bother cutting. The truck won’t make it all the way through. We’re going to have to do this on foot.”

They were all ready to go. Beast and Little Vinnie led the pack with Steve, Colton, and Dad next, and then Faith, Rage, and Miranda following behind. They walked at a good clipped pace, cold air nipping at their faces. Nobody said a word. Gravel crunched beneath heavy boots.

After a while, Beast had them gather around. He spoke quietly. “I still don’t see a fence or a gate, but Miranda assured me we’re getting close. Little Vinnie and I are going to cut off to the right and see what we’re dealing with here.”

Steve stepped forward. “Dad and I will go to the left.”

“How will we know when it’s clear to move forward?” Rage asked.

“I’ll use the walkie-talkie to call you,” Beast said, and then he took off.

The rest of them stood in the dark, nobody saying a word. The next five minutes felt much longer. Rage tapped her foot. “I don’t like this. I say we move forward.”

They all agreed.

Single file, they trudged up the gravel road. Colton took the lead. Rage, Faith, and Miranda followed in line. The farther they went, the thicker the trees became and the darker it got. The moonlight struggled to squeeze its way through the branches and give them light. A few minutes later, Miranda stopped.

Faith stopped, too. “Anything wrong?”

“Can you hear the sheep?”

They all listened. “I heard them,” Rage said. “What does that mean?”

“We’re almost there.”

Shouts sounded in the distance and then a crack and a pop.

Faith’s heart raced.

Colton was about to take off toward the sound when they heard leaves crunching and Little Vinnie appeared. “Come on,” he said, waving his arm. “There’s a chain-link fence up ahead. Who has the first aid kit?”

Panic set in. “It’s in my backpack,” Faith said. “Why? What happened?”

He pointed over his shoulder at the direction he’d come from. “Steve’s been hurt, a knife wound. Doesn’t appear to be deep, but he’s bleeding good enough.” He started off again, heading up the middle of the gravel driveway. “You’ll find him at the base of a lone redwood.”

“Where are you going?” Faith asked.

“To catch up to my son,” Little Vinnie told her. “He’s headed for the barn. The gate ahead is open.”

Faith looked at Colton. She felt suddenly helpless and out of her element. What was she thinking asking her family to put themselves in danger like this? Everything was happening too quickly.

“It’s OK,” Rage said. “I’ll go help Steve. You go with them to the house.” Rage took the flashlight and first aid kit from her and said, “Go find Lara.”

“Thank you.”

Rage ran off, weaving through trees and brush.

Faith watched until she could no longer see her, then rushed to catch up with Colton and Miranda. The chain-link fence was open just as Little Vinnie said it would be. They walked another two hundred feet before reaching a clearing. The barn was large, framed with timber and painted red. To the right of the barn was a two-story house with gabled windows. Staying hidden in the trees, they crept around the backside of the barn, away from the house. Inside the barn they found Beast sitting on a bale of hay talking to the same guy who had stopped Faith down the road yesterday.

Beast had used ropes to restrain the upper half of his body. Duct tape covered his mouth. “He won’t cooperate,” Beast told the group. “I don’t know who he’s trying to protect, but they’ve got him scared pretty good.”

“His name is Phoenix,” Miranda said.

The boy’s eyes met hers, his expression one of surprise before his face turned red with anger. Shouting at her from beneath the tape, he tried harder to wriggle his way out of the ropes.

Worried, Miranda took a step back.

Little Vinnie and Colton walked around the inside of the barn, checking the loft and making sure nobody was hiding in an empty stall or within a stack of hay.

“Dad and I are going to head to the back of the house,” Colton said. “See if we can find a way inside.”

“Something’s not right,” Miranda blurted, stopping Colton and his dad from stepping outside.

Faith frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Mother had a habit of leaving lights on at night. If I didn’t know better, I’d say she was afraid of the dark.” Miranda edged closer to the barn door and looked toward the house. “She knows we’re here.”

“What do we do now?” Faith asked.

Beast picked the kid up by the scruff of his neck, dragged him to the barn door, and tossed him outside. “Go tell your boss we need to talk.”

Screaming mumbled nonsense beneath the tape, Phoenix ran toward the house.

Just as he reached the first step leading up to the porch outside the front door, gunfire exploded around him.

Miranda ran for cover inside an empty stall.

Faith dropped to the ground inside the barn. She could see Phoenix lying on the ground, motionless.

An eerie quiet fell over them.

“A pistol was fired from the top floor,” Dad said, breaking into the silence, “and a high-caliber rifle sounded from bottom floor, far left.”

“Agreed,” Beast said. “There was also a shotgun . . . fired from the window to the right of the front entry.”

“We have at least three shooters.” Faith’s dad looked at Miranda. “Where do the kids usually sleep?”

“Upstairs. Two separate rooms. Far right. Sometimes Mother uses another room downstairs, also on the right side. She keeps the doors locked.”

Little Vinnie pulled a handful of firecrackers from his front pants pocket. He looked at Miranda and said, “We need a distraction.”

She nodded and took them from him. He handed her a matchbook, too. “I want you to throw the firecracker toward the front of the house. After it goes off, count to three before you light another one and toss it. Repeat the process until you run out.”

“Got it.”

“Beast and Little Vinnie will go around to the left of the house,” Dad told the group. “And Colton and I will go around the right and try to find a way inside.”

“And you,” Dad said, handing Faith Colton’s walkie-talkie, “sneak around to the back of the barn outside where you can see the back of the house and use the walkie-talkie to let us know if you see anyone leave.”

“I can do that,” she said, glad to have something to do.

Faith stayed low as she followed Colton and Dad out of the barn, staying close to the trees until the two men broke off to make their way to the back of the house.

Crouched low in the dark, Faith readied her gun and kept an eye on the house. Before she heard the first firecracker go off, an arm came around from behind and knocked the gun out of her grasp.

A dirty palm covered her mouth as the man dragged her backward toward the trees. Frantic, she twisted and kicked.

Her screams were muffled, her struggles useless.

I’m going to die. I’ll never see Lara and Hudson again.

Lights began to flicker—the same bright light she’d seen after returning home from the hospital. She’s been through too much to give up now.
Fight!

Rocks and twigs bit into her skin as her captor pulled her along, dragging her through the dark. Reaching out, her fingers brushed over twigs and leaves and then something hard. A rock. She grasped on to it and used all the strength she could summon to turn toward the man and slam the rock into his knee.

Taken by surprise, he grunted and let go of her.

She dropped to the ground. Gasping and sputtering, determined to get away, she scrambled forward, crawling on all fours, pebbles and twigs cutting into her skin.

“What’s going on?” a voice asked.

It was Rage. Faith could see the beam of light above her eyes. The shadow of the man stood tall now and he lifted his arms, aiming his gun her way.

“Run!” Faith shouted, but it was too late. A shot was fired.

Her throat clogged with fear, Faith got to her feet. Someone grabbed her from behind, held her tight. “It’s me.”

“Oh, Rage, thank God!”

Rage went to where the man lay still on the ground. She knelt down and felt for a pulse. “He won’t be bothering anyone else.”

Faith looked at her and said, “You saved my life.”

“OK, yeah, whatever. He didn’t hurt you?”

“No, I’m fine.”

“Come on, then—we have kids to find.”

Another firecracker went off in the distance.

“Steve,” Faith said. “Where is he?”

“He’s going to be fine,” Rage said, urging her onward. “All bandaged up and keeping an eye on the man who was guarding the gate before Beast knocked him over the head and duct-taped him to a tree.”

“The men are trying to find a way inside the house,” Faith told her. “I’m supposed to be keeping an eye on the house, making sure no one sneaks out. I have no idea where that man came from.”

“What’s with the firecrackers?”

“They asked Miranda to create a distraction.”

Rage found Faith’s gun on their way back to the barn and handed it to her.

“I’m out of firecrackers,” Miranda told them as they approached. “What now?”