Casket for Sale, Only Used Once (18 page)

So now what?

I cautiously backed away, and then screamed in surprise and agony when something snapped shut over my ankle. As I fell to the ground, dropping the walkie-talkie, I saw it was a wolf trap.

Chapter Seventeen

THOUGH THE RUSTY jaws of the wolf trap were flat rather than jagged, the pain was so intense it brought tears to my eyes.

I blinked away the tears, gripped the jaws of the trap, and tried to wrench it open. The trap opened most of the way with a
creak
like teeth against a chalkboard ... and then popped out of my grip and snapped shut over my foot again.

My reaction was not quiet.

The trap was attached to a chain wrapped around the base of a large tree, mostly hidden by leaves. Doing everything I could to force the excruciating pain out of my
mind,
I pried the trap open once again and withdrew my foot.

It snapped shut with a loud clang.

I didn't know if my foot was broken or not, but I did know I wouldn't be running on it anytime soon.

I stood up, bracing myself against the tree, and looked back at the road. The woman had entered the woods and she held a gun.

I wanted to call out to Theresa and Kyle, to scream at them not to move, but that would let the woman know where they were. I prayed they would stay put.

My breathing was so rapid I felt like I might hyperventilate. I moved behind the tree, even though the pain shooting through my foot was almost worse than giving birth. It wasn't likely this tree could hide me for long, but it gave me a few seconds to figure out what to do.

Those few seconds passed without any grand revelation.

I heard the woman approaching. She wasn't coming straight toward me, but rather to the side, probably trying to get a good shot without putting herself into harm's way. If I were lucky, maybe she'd step into a wolf trap of her own.

A flash of red to my side.

I pulled out of the way just as a shot fired. It wasn't a loud gunshot, but more of a
swish
. Another shot, and a dart slammed into a tree next to me.

Still no brilliant plan of escape.

I sure as hell couldn't outrun her. The only thing I could do was try to climb the tree. Fast.

I reached up as high as I could,
grabbed
the lowest branch, and pulled myself up. I braced my feet against the trunk and "walked" up, which hurt worse than if Theresa and Kyle had been born simultaneously, but it didn't matter even if I was shattering every single bone in my leg. If I wanted to survive, I had to climb.

I screamed a lot, though.

I got my feet onto the lowest branch and pulled myself onto the next one as quickly as I could. I could almost feel the adrenaline rushing through my veins as I climbed.

Swish!

A dart struck the branch inches from my right arm.

I glanced down and saw the woman running toward the tree. There wasn't nearly enough branch cover, and I wasn't nearly high enough for her to miss unless she was a seriously crappy shot.

I pulled myself up to the next branch, and then my foot slipped. I hung there helplessly for a few seconds.

Swish!

The dart struck the bottom of my shoe.
My uninjured foot, on the heel.
It didn't break through to the skin.

I lifted my foot to the nearest branch, careful not to put my heel on it and push the dart in deeper. It remained wedged in my shoe. I continued to climb.

I heard the woman curse.

"Come down from there!" she shouted. "Don't be suicidal!"

She sounded frustrated. Maybe this meant she was out of darts.

I pulled myself up higher, scraping the hell out of my arm against a particularly sharp branch.

"Helen, this is ridiculous! You can't get away!"

I looked down. She was standing directly underneath me, probably thirty feet below. She cursed again, kicked the base of the tree, and then reached for the lowest branch.

Outclimbing
her was going to be a bitch.

More than a bitch.
Impossible.
Even if I had a fire hose pumping adrenaline directly into my bloodstream, it wasn't
gonna
happen. I was still exhausted from my encounter with Ogre, and now every movement of my foot shot waves of pain all the way up my leg.

But I kept climbing. About halfway up the tree, it started to feel quite a bit less sturdy.

"What do you think you're going to do, Helen?" asked the woman. She was only a couple of body-lengths behind me. "Climb the air after you've run out of tree? Come on down and let's settle this without me having to knock you to the ground."

I didn't answer her. I couldn't waste any energy by speaking.

The next branch I grabbed broke off in my hand and I momentarily lost my balance. I flailed, snatched another branch, and managed to prevent myself from saving the woman the effort of knocking me to the ground.

But what
was
I going to do when I got to the top of the tree?

I looked to the side. The next climbable tree was about ten feet away. There was no way I could jump straight across, but if I got in a really good leap I might be able to grab one of the lower branches as I fell.

I pulled myself up to the next branch. The woman climbed behind me, gaining quickly. She was directly beneath me, which suddenly gave me an idea.

I slammed my good foot against the branch. The dart in my shoe stayed in place. I slammed it once, twice, three more times, and then the dart came free.

The woman gasped.

I watched the dart fall.

It dropped past her arm and harmlessly hit the ground below.

The woman seemed more than a little upset by this near-miss, and scurried after me with renewed energy. I reached for the next branch, which bent in half instead of supporting my weight. I grabbed another one, which also bent but not quite as much.

I eased myself a couple of steps out onto the branch I stood on. It wobbled beneath me. I swore I heard a cracking sound. If I was going to jump, I had to do it now, without thinking about it.

Of course, I'd
already
thought about it.

The branch beneath me snapped.

I let out a squeal as I hung there. I stretched out my good foot, trying to find something to stand on, but no branch was within reach.

As I struggled to pull myself up, the branch I held bowed downward.

The woman reached out and grabbed for my bad foot. I swung it out of the way. She grabbed again, this time getting a handful of shoelace. She pulled my foot toward her then wrapped her fingers around my injured ankle and squeezed. I screamed, shut my eyes as if that would block out the pain, and lost my grip on the branch.

Freefall.

But only for a second.
My butt smacked the next lower branch. I involuntarily leaned forward and continued falling, arms flailing wildly.

I struck the next lower branch with my shoulder.

The next with my knee.

The next one broke my fall. I scrambled to get myself oriented again, and climbed down the tree while the woman followed me, our chase now reversed.

Getting down required less
energy,
and I tried to favor my good foot as I dropped to each lower branch. Again, the woman was gaining.
Quickly.

When she was only one body-length away from me, she slammed her foot down on my hand. I let out another scream and fell. This time no branches broke my fall, and I plummeted about fifteen feet to the ground, landing once again on my ass.

I just lay there for a moment, dazed.

The woman hurried down after me.

I tried to sit up but couldn't. I couldn't move.

Oh, God, what if I'd damaged my spinal column?

A lifetime of paralysis was a scary thought, although a useless concern, since if I
was
paralyzed I wouldn't be surviving the next couple of minutes.

The woman dropped to the ground at my feet. She wiped her hands off on her shirt and regarded me with disgust.

"I
hate
manual labor," she said. "It's a waste of my skills. When I have to chase you up and down a tree, all it does is
make
me think that instead of bringing you in alive like I'm supposed to, I should just kill you."

"Please," I said, hating myself for begging. "Just let--"

"Stop it. I don't want to hear it. If you think I feel any sympathy for a pathetic helpless female, you're wrong in a big way. Now, here's the question that determines whether you die quickly and painlessly, or slowly and miserably: Where are your kids?"

"Fuck you."

The woman sighed. "Okay, let me accentuate that last point. This is the question that also determines whether your
children
will die quickly and painlessly or slowly and miserably. Where are they?"

I wanted to spit in her face, but my projectile spitting skills weren't that advanced.

"
Oooooh
, steel resolve.
I like that. I know they're around here somewhere. Probably close. You wouldn't leave them out in the middle of the woods by themselves. I sure hope you found them a good hiding spot. Maybe your dog will help me track them down, what do you think?"

Joe hadn't proven himself to be much of a tracker, but the woman was absolutely right. Theresa and Kyle were close. If she went out looking for them, she'd find them.

"Theresa! Kyle!" I screamed. "Run away! Run as fast as you can! Do it now!"

The woman spun around.

I grabbed the chain fastening the wolf trap to the tree and yanked on it as hard as I possibly could, nearly wrenching my arm out of its socket. As the woman turned back to face me, the wolf trap bashed into her chest, knocking her to the ground.

I forced myself to stand up, but immediately lost my balance and fell to my knees. I saw my children fleeing deeper into the woods. "Run!" I screamed again. "And be careful!" Better to risk the booby traps than to have the woman catch them.

I raised the chain over my head and swung it again. This time it felt like my muscles were ripped right off the bone. The wolf trap flew toward the woman but she rolled out of the way and it struck the ground instead.

She got back up.

I scooted backward on my aching ass. I just had to stay alive long enough for my children to make it to safety--I only hoped they found it in the creepy, trap-filled forest.

The woman crouched down and pried open the jaws as far as they would go, setting the trap. Then she picked up the contraption and walked toward me.

My hand brushed against something.

I threw the dart at her. The point jabbed into her leg.

She looked down at it in shock. Then she smiled. "What, you think there'd still be tranquilizer in there?" She plucked out the dart and tossed it aside.

Then she dropped to her knees.

Blinked a couple of times.

"You bitch," she said, tossing the wolf trap at me.

It landed between my legs, bounced once, and hit my upper thigh. The jolt in my heart was so great that for an instant I thought the trap had sprung.

The woman came toward me, still on her knees, arms extended, her eyes wide with fury even as her movements slowed.

I picked up the trap and slammed it against her face.

It sprung.

I turned away, not wanting to see the results. Her body dropped onto mine, and I rolled her out of the way. I wiped her blood off my cheek, grateful it wasn't an eyeball or something like that. After all I'd been
through,
I didn't need to be wiping other people's eyeballs off my cheek.

Despite the gruesome sight next to me, and despite the continued pain in my ankle and countless other parts of my body, I couldn't help but laugh. We had a limo. We could get out of here. Drive away and find help. Rescue Andrew.

"Theresa! Kyle! It's safe now!" I shouted as loud as I could while being almost completely out of breath. "You can come back!"

I listened for their response.

Nothing.

"Theresa?"

I forced myself to stand up. My leg tried to buckle beneath me, but I held steady. "Kyle?
Honey?
Come back!"

Still nothing.

Where were they?

Oh, God, where were they?

Chapter Eighteen

Back with Andrew

I WOKE UP, NOT realizing I'd been unconscious.

The drug in the dart had obviously worn off because I could move again. That is, I could have moved again if my arms, legs, and torso hadn't been duct taped to a metal chair. They'd used a ridiculous amount ... I looked like a duct tape mummy. My left hand had been bandaged up, which I hoped meant they planned to keep me alive for a while.

Roger and Samantha were similarly bound to my right, while Goblin was to my left. Goblin had received a black eye sometime between my loss of consciousness and now, and he looked scared and pitiful. He was the only one of the four prisoners who wasn't wearing a tight cloth gag.