Beyond Revenge (The Ransom Series) (13 page)

So I run.

I keep my broken left hand pulled close
to me as I dart through the brush and between the trees, careful not to catch
the loose ends of the cuffs around my ankles on anything as they swing wildly
with each movement of my legs.

I run as quickly as my bare feet will
take me without overexerting myself.  Jack warned that I shouldn’t do strenuous
exercise while pregnant, which seemed ridiculous for him to say at the time
given that I was locked in a tiny basement and had no real means of getting
exercise other than my numerous trips between the bed and bathroom.  I’m
heeding his warning now, though, trying to move quickly while keeping my heart
rate from spiking.

I don’t know where I’m going, but I
don’t really care as long as it’s far away from Mark and that cabin.  I have to
hope there is civilization somewhere nearby.  I’ll take a road, any road I come
across, even if it’s a just a dirt road or logging trail.  Hell, I’ll take a
hiking path at this point.  The moment I find some sign of human life
,
I’ll follow it until it leads me to someone.

And then I’ll go home.

Then I’ll see Leo and my parents.

Then I’ll have my baby in peace with
the people I love around me.

Hot tears spill from my eyes
.  I
stop
and take a moment to wipe them away, to gather my
emotions and catch my breath before I start moving again.  I begin to realize
that all this movement is making my already dehydrated body even more thirsty. 
If I hadn’t been in such a crazed rush to get out of the cabin
,
I would have realized the benefit of checking the kitchen for
drinks and snacks I could take with me.  I was stupid not to think of that, not
just because of the
resulting
detriment to myself, but
for the consequences it will mean for the baby.

I can’t be that stupid again.  I can’t
forget about the
growing
life relying on me to provide
for it.

“I’m sorry,” I say, placing my hand
over the bump in my belly.  “I need to do better for you.  I’m trying.  I’m
trying so damn hard.”

A quick sob escapes me.  These crazy
pregnancy hormones wreak havoc on my emotions
. 
I have
to get them under control.

I try to breathe through it, and once
I’m feeling centered and calmed down
,
I move through
the forest again with renewed resolve.

I keep going,
working my way
down
to
the nearest valley I saw from up
at the cabin
,
hoping that there might be a road
passing through
the mountains
.  The sun has moved
significantly in the sky above
me
by the time I find
something promising.

A road.  A
narrow
dirt road, but a road nonetheless.

Stepping onto it from the forest feels
about as liberating as my first step out of the basement at the cabin.  I look
in both directions and opt to travel to the
right
,
though the exhaustion within me reduces my speed to
a
slow
and un
steady
walk.

My throat is dry.  My left hand aches
terribly from the broken bone
that
I haven’t even
bothered trying to address yet.  Despite the mild temperature in the air, sweat
beads down my face and neck.  I’m dirty from head to toe, my feet scraped up
from running through the woods barefoot and my lower legs bruised from the
loose metal of the handcuffs barraging the skin with my movements.  Everything
about me feels dirty and broken, but the seed of hope within me grows with each
labored step I take along the road.

I wonder if I’m becoming delirious when
I hear something in the distance.  A humming sound
, steady
and reverberating.

My senses start to awaken, and in
seeing movement
further
down the road
,
I confirm that I’m not just imagining this.

It’s a vehicle.  A sign of human life.

I collapse to my knees with tears of
relief as it comes closer.

It’s time to go home.  It’s time to
be free.

The vehicle pulls up next to me
,
and it takes all the strength and effort I have left to look up at
the window to my savior.

Instead I see my nemesis.

Instead I see endless pain and
suffering.  I see solitude.

I see red.

In the second it takes Mark to open the
truck door
,
I’m already to my feet
and
running for my life back into the woods.  The breaths come and go
so fast from my body I’m not sure I’m even taking
in
oxygen
anymore.  I can feel my pulse beating rapidly in my neck, my heart about ready
to burst out of my chest and run ahead of me in the absolute fear that has
overtaken my body.  My feet sting with each stride I take through the brush and
broken branches that scrape at my skin and make the ground beneath me uneven.

I see
a
large
fallen tree in my path and quickly readjust my
route
between the branches that stick up from the log.  One foot makes over, but the loose
cuff on
my
other
ankle
catches
briefly
on a protruding branch, and my body goes crashing
to the dirt below.

Before I can scramble back to my feet
,
Mark
is already
on top of me, his entire
body covering the length of mine as he flips my shoulders so
that
I’m lying on my back.  He takes my wrists in his hands and pushes
them violently above my head.

My piercing scream echoes throughout
the forest, filling the depths of the valley and bouncing from peak to peak of
the mountains around us.  In my cries and my attempts to recoil my broken and
bleeding hands
,
Mark sees
the source of my pain
and lets go of them.

In that moment
,
I abandon all attempts at escape.  I forget that I’m pinned down
by a monster.  I ignore the pain
consuming me
from my
fingertips all the way to my toes.

Instead I think about the baby inside
me and
how
I’ve just blown my only chance at escaping
with it.  Mark will never let me or
t
his child out of
his sight again.

We had our taste of freedom, however
many hours it was, and I blew it for both of us.  I’ve only made things worse,
and up until now I haven’t let myself imagine how my situation could possibly
get worse.

“Why?” I say weakly through the tears
rushing down my face.  “Why can’t you just leave
me
the fuck alone?”

I don’t bother waiting for his
response.  I scream again, letting the world know my pain, praying that someone
somewhere can hear my cries.

I melt into uncontrollable sobs as Mark
smiles widely above me.  He brushes the hair out of my face and runs his thumb
over my cheek.  I immediately turn away from his touch
, but he
forces my head back to face him, grabbing me
roughly
by the chin.

I will do anything to wipe that grin
off his face.

Anything.

With a quick movement
,
I get one of Mark’s fingers from my chin to graze my teeth.  I
open my mouth and clamp down on the finger, the metallic and salty
taste
of his blood
instantly filling
my mouth.
 
He cries out and yanks his hand back before smacking me hard
across the face.

I don’t want to be here.  I don’t want
to see this.  I can’t accept that I’ve just
experienced
freedom for me and my baby and now it’s being snapped away from us.

“Fuck you,” I manage to say through the
daze from the hit.  I want more of that daze.  My body needs to be gone.  “Hit
me.  Hit me again
,
you piece of shit.”  And he does,
even harder than the first time.  My vision is going red.  I’m almost there. 
“Hit me, asshole!  Fucking do it!”  Instant impact and pain.

Then there is nothing but black,
beautiful and simple, serene and waiting for me.

Her True Self

∞

We are all lost.

A constant fight
to seek the truth

and who we are.

Gone but not
forgotten.

Held deep inside,
hiding.

Cowering from the
world.

She found herself.

Embracing life and
love.

Starting her
journey.

Forging our path
together.

She will emerge
and find that again.

Her true self.

∞

Morgan feels so close to me
,
yet so far away.  It’s amazing how small the areas we’re searching
look on a map.  In reality our search area is larger than we thought on the day
Robert found out that Morgan sent us a piece of a Coulter pine with her letter.

I’ve spent the last few weeks alone driving
from forest to forest and through surrounding towns asking questions, showing
pictures, spinning off names to see if anyone has encountered Mark, Jack, or
Morgan.  I’ve stopped in at every cigar shop I’ve come across even though
Robert and I already contacted all the shops
in the state
.  We sent them pictures and names and the brand of cigar that Jack
prefers.  Robert threw in some extra incentive, offering ten thousand dollars
cash
to anyone who provides credible information that could lead
us to Morgan.

I’ve chased a few dead-ends, people looking
to make a quick buck who quickly regret it
when
I come
back to “pay” them for their help, but other than that I’ve been shooting in
the dark.  I’ve scoured through satellite images online to find houses hidden
in the forest
s
.  The past few days I’ve found myself
driving aimlessly through the mountains looking for paths to places that aren’t
visible online, the kind of hideaway that someone like Mark or Jack would look
for as a backup site.

I’ve also taken the time to park on the
side of the road, step out of Robert’s black sedan, and scream at the top of my
lungs, letting my frustration and pain be heard by the trees and mountains all
around me that only throw silence and solitude back in my face.

Nature is quickly becoming my enemy.

The sun is out and shining brightly
overhead as I’m driving.  It’s a gorgeous day, seemingly unfitting for the
darkness and weight within my chest.  The ups and downs are getting to me,
reverting me backward, eating away at my resolve.  The moments of gaining hope
seem quickly followed by days and weeks acting upon that
optimism
only to end up right where I was to begin with.  It’s a different
kind of endless cycle, like trying to feed an insatiable hunger.  No matter how
hard I try, I end each day without Morgan in my arms.

I will not turn completely hopeless,
though.

Robert stayed home in Arizona
for
work
.  His search for Morgan over these long months has tapped
out the family’s bank accounts, and he can’t afford to
be away from
his job at this point.  He’s under enough emotional strain as it
is.  It’s painful to know he’s under the addition of financial strain, and I
can’t help seeing it for what it is: just another way that I’ve helped to
destroy the Whitford family.

I was grateful that Robert trusted me
enough to let me come to California on my own.  Thinking back to the day that I
woke up tied to a chair in Robert’s basement an eternity ago, I never would
have thought we’d reach a level of mutual trust and respect that he would let
me travel states away to look for Morgan without his supervision.

In a strange way I’ve become close
to
Robert and Cindy.  They’ve welcomed me into their home and given
me a sense of true family that has been absent in my life since the day Mark
had my parents killed.  There’s just one thing missing
now
, one very important person.  The woman who ties us all together. 
Our final piece.

My cell phone rings, a burner phone
that Cindy loaded up with minutes for me.  I pick it up and glance at it,
answering the call immediately after recognizing the phone number.  “Robert?”

“Leo.”

He sounds at the point of tears, and at
first I fear the worst.

“I got the call.  They’ve been spotted,
both Mark and Jack. 
A guy
at a cigar shop
in Soledad
recognized them.”

“Oh my God.”  My breath catches in my
throat, and I lose all ability to speak. 

Everything has changed.

“
He saw what direction they went
.  Leo, we have a solid lead.  We know exactly what
set of
mountains to search.”

I quickly pull over to the side of the
road.  It’s too much information for me to take in at once, too overwhelming to
know that we’ve just come that much closer to finding Morgan.

Stumbling out of the car, I fall to my
knees in the dirt and drop the phone.  The months of pain I’ve
experienced
without Morgan, the guilt I’ve felt
in losing her and
not being there to support her, hit me all at once at the
realization that I may actually get to see her again
soon.

With my hand cupped over my mouth
,
I hold in the flood of emotion that wants to escape me, but the mix
of devastated and joyful tears still fall down my face.  I can hear Robert calling
my name from the phone on the ground.  I try to regain my composure before
picking it up.

“Sorry,” I say quietly.

“It’s okay, Leo.  I know it’s a lot to
take in, but this is our moment.  We need to keep pushing and finish this. 
We’re so close.”

Robert’s words hit me like a slap to
the face.  The blood in my veins seems to reawaken fully, ready to fuel me.  I
feel the life bubbling up within me again.  I picture Morgan’s face and can
almost feel the beauty and light that emanate from her.  I see her smiling.  I
see me holding her.  I see us happy and loving our baby.
 
“Okay.  I’ll get to Soledad as fast as I can.”

“I’m catching the next flight to
San
Jose
.  I’ll call you when I land.”

I stand up and end the call, leaving
the broken person I was just a few moments before kneeling behind me on the
dirt.  I get back in the car and fumble with the GPS. 
Soledad
.  I need to get there.  Now.

My destination, Morgan’s possible
location, is
less than two hours
away.  As I get back
on the road, my foot becomes heavy against the gas pedal.  The car cannot
possibly get me there fast enough.

The time passes quickly as I try to
make sense of the chaos of thoughts that run through my mind.  By the time I
reach the cigar shop in Soledad where Mark and Jack were spotted, I feel
focused and ready.

What I wasn’t prepared for was
encountering a stubborn store clerk who won’t say a word about what he saw
until he has the cash reward in hand.

Despite my threats of physical
violence, the man held his ground, and I’m stuck waiting for Robert to
arrive
so he can pay the man.  It’s a painful decision to leave that
place so close to Morgan’s location, but I decide to drive to the
San
Jose International Airport
to pick up Robert.

When he’s finally in the car with me, I
can see my own excitement written all over his face.  He looks nervous though,
rubbing his hands together anxiously as we get on the road.  It’s
uncharacteristic for him.

“What’s wrong?” I ask worriedly.

Robert’s gaze remains fixed on the road
ahead of us.  He’s silent for a long moment before he finally speaks.  “I
haven’t seen her in over seven months.  I know this is all we’ve been working
toward, and I’ve been looking forward to this for so long, but the thought of
actually seeing her scares the hell out of me.”

I know exactly what he’s feeling,
though he’s gone over twice as long as I have without seeing Morgan, which I
can only imagine compounds his pain even more.  It’s hard not to think about
how these past few months have changed her, if she’ll be the same person, if
the connection and love we shared will still be there.  I know she’s strong
,
but I worry that Mark finally broke her down.  Whether she admits
it or not, she is vulnerable.  She is more vulnerable than ever before, not
only because I’m not there to protect her, but because she has a baby growing
within her.

I look to Robert, trying to give him a
reassuring smile and comforting words.  “She’ll be happy to see you.  I know
she missed you and Cindy.”

Robert smiles back, but I don’t think
I’ve got through to him.  I decide to try a different approach: brutal honesty.

“She’s not going to be the same,” I
continue, keeping my eyes on the road.  “Even in the time I spent with her she
changed dramatically, and I can’t even imagine how she may have been affected
by these last few months.  But she’s also strong.  She’s a fighter, and even if
it takes months or years for her to get past this
,
she
will overcome it.  She’ll never give up being who she truly is.  We’ll help her
find that person again.”

When I turn to make eye contact with
Robert, he looks away from me and only nods his head.  I think I may have got
through to him a little too much.

The rest of the drive back to Soledad is
quiet, and by the time we get there, it’s as if our earlier conversation never
happened.  Robert is straight-faced and focused, moving with purpose and
entering the cigar shop as a man on a mission.

Given my last run-in with the store
clerk, I stay back and let Robert handle speaking with him this time.  He
successfully negotiates him down to half of the reward money up front with the
remaining half to be paid once we confirm that the information is good.

As we get back in the car and I start
the engine, I’m torn between excitement and pessimism.  The clerk made it sound
too good to be true
. 
He followed them to the
road leading into the Santa Lucia Range.
  He says there are
only a few
small towns and some scattered secluded
houses
throughout that part of the mountains
.

If the information is true, then they’re
as good as trapped, and we’re going to find them.

We leave Soledad and quickly find
ourselves on more winding and treacherous roads surrounded by
mountains
. 
Trees and brush
flank e
ach
side of us, seeming to close in on us the
further
we drive.

My nerves hit a small peak when we arrive at the first
small town and get directions for a few parts of the mountain range where there
are known to be secluded houses.  By the time we reach one of those areas and
see a turnoff up ahead, anxiety is absolutely consuming me
. 
This could be it.  This could be the road that leads us to Morgan.

I glance at Robert.  He appears to
share my nerves, a look of uneasiness on his face beneath his signature
hardened look that he always puts forward to the world.

The small dirt road is rough and
uneven, jostling us around in our seats the higher we climb.  I drive slowly to
keep our noise and dust level down.  There’s no telling what could be waiting
for us at the top of this hill.

When I see the cabin appear in the
distance, I immediately stop the car and reverse direction, opting to pull over
where there was a small clearing at a previous widening in the road.

“We should walk the rest of the way. 
Hidden approach,” I
explain
as I put the car in park.

“Agreed.  Let’s go.”

Robert and I open and close our doors
quietly before arming up with knives and guns from the trunk.  I grab a small pair
of binoculars and close the trunk with only the slightest click.

We move directly into the trees
and brush
, working our approach from the tree line to
maintain as much cover as possible.  I want to go in there with guns blazing
to
pull Morgan out as fast as possible,
but I know
it’s better to scope out the cabin first.

We hit the tree line
that
surrounds the large
clearing
out
in
front of the cabin.  The
building
and the pickup truck
parked outside it are tucked away within the trees
at the back end of
the clearing
, the perfect place to hide from the world.

I take out the binoculars and look
through each of the windows for any sign of movement, but I see nothing.  We
keep
circling the cabin from the tree line, checking all the windows
over and over again
.

I’m not willing to sit here and let our
minutes
of waiting
turn into hours
. 
“We need to go in.  We can’t wait–” 
I
cut myself off
as I
finally see it.  A curtain moves in the room next to the
front door and a light turns on.  The outline of the figure through the
thin
curtain is all I can see, but it means there is life within
there.  Answers are within our grasp.