Run With Me (21 page)

Now my head runs with options.
Climb down and return to the cabin, then get my bag and try to make
my way to a road or highway somewhere? I shake my head at the
thought. It's too risky. There's no telling when he'll turn around
and go back, and I could easily have him hot on my heels again.

I could climb down and go in
another direction? He's only likely to follow a straight path for so
long before giving up. If I go sideways along the hill in either
direction I'll lose him. Again, I quickly shut down that option. It's
night-time, and I have no idea exactly where I'd be going. I don't
know how far these woods go and what's out there. I only know that
downhill from here is the cabin and, somewhere beyond, the town of
Concrete. Any deviation away from that knowledge might put me in
danger.

The only other option that I can
see, and the one I must choose through elimination, is to stay put.
Hide up in this tree until he's gone and the light of the morning can
perhaps provide a new slant on things. The only downside to that is
he's most likely going to pass back down this way, and maybe by then
he'll have realized that I went vertical to escape him.

To combat that, I decide to
climb even higher towards the heavier foliage above. I can still
faintly see his light pointing further up the hill, so know he hasn't
turned around yet. I move up, from branch to branch, recalling my
childhood when I used to climb trees in the park. I don't think I
ever went this high though.

Soon I reach a fork where two
thick branches divide. It provides an ample base for me to sit and
there's sufficient foliage around me to shield me from below. If he
shone his light directly through the leaves, he might catch me, but
there's no other chance he'll see me in the dark.

I've managed to make it just in
time as well, because he seems to have stopped. I can see his light
moving around in every direction now, scanning in a full 360 motion.
Then my heart drops slightly as his light lifts up into the night
sky. He
is
checking the trees.

I quickly look up and consider
going higher, but there's nowhere else to go and this branch is the
widest and safest I can see. He's coming back towards me now, moving
down the hill. His light swishes from side to side, cutting a path up
into the high branches above. I lie flat, hoping to block off my body
completely from sight, but I know my clothes are colorful and will
shine out brightly when hit with the flashlight. As soon as that
light hits me, I'll be a sitting duck.

He's getting closer now, and
there's nothing I can do. No time to climb down and run. No chance of
climbing higher and out of sight. His light swings from tree to tree,
almost playfully. I can imagine him licking his lips, this cruel
smile creasing his mouth. “I know you're up there Kitty,” I
imagine him whispering. “A cat caught in a tree.”

He's only a few trees away. One,
two, three, more before me. Then he'll see me. Then it's game over. I
feel the tracker in my pocket, pinching my skin as I hug the bark
tighter and tighter.
The tracker!
I think, as if Colt will
miraculously appear right here, right now to save me. I reach in and
press it and a small flashing red light appears. The crimson glow
almost gives me a heart attack as I realize he might see it below. I
quickly place it back into my pocket and wrap my arms back around the
wide branch.

But I know Colt can't help me,
not from hundreds of miles away in LA. Maybe he could have called
Dale, but I feel for sure he's dead now, head down in his car, blood
pooling at his feet. No, right now there's nothing I can do but await
my doom and hope, just hope that he misses me.

The light traces the tree
opposite and I see the branches burst into light. The entire tree is
suddenly glowing, every branch, every nesting bird and frightened
squirrel exposed to the pair of searching eyes below. I can see him,
carefully examining each one as if he knows I'm up here somewhere, as
if it's only a matter of time before he finds his target.

The tree fades into darkness
again, and I know it's my turn. I shut my eyes, lie as flat as
possible, and hold my breath for what good it will do. A short
silence hits as I wait for the gunshots below. Instead, I hear a
roar.

It comes from up the hill and
suddenly the woods are alive with cackling birds and the sound of
something large and heavy crashing through the undergrowth. I open my
eyes and see the light that was threatening to reveal me suddenly
point in the direction of the noise. Now I hear the sound of silenced
gunshots, punching their way forward accompanied by flashes of light.
I hear more roars and crashes as the man below me turns and runs, as
fast as he can, back down the hill.

He moves quick, plunging the
woods around me back into blackness. But there's just enough pale
moonlight to see the bear – that inquisitive bear – come charging
down the hill after him. I don't know if he was drawn by the sound of
the chase, or maybe the scent of my blood on the branch, but he's
become my unlikely savior. He roars forwards, keeping chase, and soon
I see more flashes in the darkness.

I root for the bear, cheering
for him in my head, and even let out a quiet shout of “get him”.
I hope he tears him apart, causes him more pain that he's ever felt.
This is the man who killed Tara, the man who killed my aunt and
uncle. I hope this beautiful bear – my savior – sends him
straight to hell.

Time passes, and the woods go
quiet. There are no more flashes of light, no more crashing sounds.
Even the squawking birds have fallen silent once more after the
commotion. I sit up against the trunk of the tree, my body jangled
with nerves, adrenaline still pumping through my blood. I can tell,
right now, that this is going to be a long, long night.

Colt

I react immediately as soon as I
see the beeping light. In a flash I'm gone, running from the house
and leaving the man sobbing and curled up on the sofa. I'm down the
street, into my car, and grabbing my phone without thinking.

I dial Dale's number and hear it
ring. It rings and rings but he doesn't pick up. I try again, and
again, but there's no answer. I bunch my fist into a ball and hit the
dashboard. I told him to expect my call at any time, to be ready if
ever I called him. Why isn't he picking up?!

Then a terrible thought crosses
my mind. Has he betrayed me? Has Michael Carmine paid him off
somehow? He's the only one who knows where Kitty is except for me. If
she's in trouble, he must be involved.

A little voice provides another
option. He was found, forced to give her up. Or maybe someone tailed
him to the cabin with a tracker, just like Rugger tailed me? I know
Dale. He wouldn't betray me. Not for money, not for anything. So if
he's not picking up, maybe it's because he can't.

I look at the blip on the phone
and zoom in. It's stationary, near the cabin, northwards into the
forest. Is she hiding out there in the dark? Is this a trap to try to
lure me up there? She might already be dead, her tracker used as bait
to ensnare me.

But
no
, I think.
It can't be a trap
. Only Kitty knows
about the tracker, only she knows to use it as a distress signal.
Even if they found it on her, they wouldn't assume turning it on
would cause me to run to her aid.

I shake all thoughts from my
head, throwing all internal debates to the wind, and focus on a
single notion. That Kitty is in trouble, and I need to get to her.
Now.

My engine roars and I'm off down
the road. I'm not driving there. No chance of that. Another 15 hours
or more on the road is too long. As I drive I check flight times and
find that there's one leaving for Seattle in a little over an hour. I
can make it, just, if I hurry.

Time passes so quickly now, as
if everything is in fast-forward mode. I'm so preoccupied with
Kitty's safety that I'm at the airport in a flash, rushing through to
buy a ticket, and boarding the plane just before it leaves.

I try to get some sleep on the
flight, and find myself fading in and out of consciousness. I don't
like to fly, and avoid it as much as I can. Ever since that seemingly
endless flight back from Iraq, after learning of the deaths of Sophie
and Ellie, I've always associated being 30,000 in the air with the
murder of my family. On this flight, however, they don't have a
chance to invade my thoughts. Those are dominated by the present
right now, as are my dreams. Kitty, Michael Carmine, Dale. Each makes
an appearance.

Whenever I wake I check my
tracking device. The signal is still coming from the same spot a
little north of the cabin. This brings fresh concerns to my mind,
because I'd have expected her to be on the move. It's the dead of
night, but if she's in trouble, movement is her ally and staying in
the same place is her enemy. I know what's in those woods: wolves and
bears and other threats. Horrible images of her - mauled by a
grizzly, torn to shreds by a pack of wolves – invade my mind. I
block them out quickly, literally shaking them from my head.

It takes about 3 hours to reach
Seattle, and I've still a way to go. By now it's past 4 AM, and I've
got to rent a car. Another 30 minutes later and I'm back behind the
wheel, driving northwards up the Interstate. It's quiet on the roads,
which is some sort of blessing. I only have to hope that my excessive
speeds don't alert the authorities.

Soon I'm turning inland once
again towards Concrete. It grows darker the closer I get,
streetlights becoming more scarce along the road. Then it's just me
and my high beams, spotlights on the tarmac in front of me. I check
my tracker and see that the red dot still hasn't moved.
Only 30
minutes
, I tell myself. Then I'll be there.

Cracks of light are now
appearing on the horizon as dawn breaks.
It's good
, I think to
myself.
It will make it easier to find her
. By the time I
reach the town, the steady glow of the rising sun is growing brighter
by the minute. I pass through and up towards the track that leads up
into the hills. I keep my eyes peeled for the concealed path that
leads to the cabin, but there's no need. The gate is open, the bushes
and foliage that had been hiding it dragged to one side. My pulse
quickens as I turn and speed into the woods.

There's a soupy blanket of mist
hovering over the forest floor as I move deeper into the woods. It
makes the path difficult to see, so I use the treeline to guide me.
The mist swirls and parts in front of me as I drive, revealing a few
feet of track beneath my wheels. Now I can see the cabin ahead,
desolate and alone within the clearing of the forest. I head towards
it until I see something on the ground, exposed by the parting mist,
materialize just ahead of me.

I slam on the brakes and twist
the car to the right, sliding to a stop in the dirt. The mist closes
in around me once again as I jump from the car and towards the body
on the track. It's slumped awkwardly in a heap, blood gathered in a
thick pool of crimson around the head. I lean in and role the body
over, not bothering to check for a pulse. That vacant look in the
eye, that hole blown in the back of the head, the quickly graying
color of the skin. I know immediately that Dale is dead.

I get that same feeling I felt
so many times all those years ago in the army. That feeling of
watching a brother in arms fall to the enemy. I've seen many friends
fall to enemy gunfire, but that was war. You expect it, grow to
accept it. This isn't the same. This is murder, and I can never
accept that.

My hand is quickly gripping my
pistol and holding it out in front of me, my eyes scanning for any
movement in the fog. I know that Dale was killed hours ago, and that
the assailant is unlikely to still be here, but it's instinct, one
ingrained in me. I stand and move quickly towards the cabin now,
checking inside to make sure it's clear. The door is splintered, the
lock cracked and broken. My eyes raise to the back window. It's open.
Did Kitty escape out of it?

I turn and run to the back,
where the woods rise up further into the hills. I know that the
source of Kitty's tracker is up there, somewhere northwards beyond
the cabin. I want to shout out, to call her name, but don't take the
risk. There's still a chance the killer's in the area.

I rush away from the cabin
across the clearing towards the trees, pulling the tracking device
from my pocket. The signal is still there, still stationary only a
few hundred feet from where I'm standing. As I reach the trees I
stop, and almost stumble backwards. A huge grizzly bear blocks my
path, lying prostrate on the floor, it's jaws set forward in a
permanent growl. My finger locks on my trigger as I point at the
beast, ready to shoot if it moves to attack.

Then I see the blood. Thick red
patches cover the bear's body, spoiling the beautiful brown of its
fur. I look closely into it's eyes, and see that they're empty,
lifeless. I can't help but just look at it for a moment, completely
still in the glowing mist. I've never seen a bear so close before,
and it's strangely moving to see such a magnificent animal struck
down like this in such an unnatural way, its body riddled with
bullets.

But I can't delay. I step past
the bear and continue into the woods, working my way up the hill as I
follow the beeping red light on my tracking device. The beep grows
faster as I approach the tracker, keeping time with the increasing
rate of my pulse. The mist still hangs over the forest floor, but I
can see ahead now, through the trees. I keep moving, faster and
faster up the hill, my eyes quivering from side to side in search for
Kitty.