Authors: Darrell Maloney
On the day John and Hannah got aboard Colonel Travis Montgomery’s helicopter and flew to San Antonio to take a tour, Martel happened to be hunting for a deer to feed him for a couple of months.
He was at one of his favorite hunting spots, where he’d taken a couple of small bucks the year before.
Just east and a mile north of Mark and Hannah’s compound.
It was where Sarah occasionally went to pick flowers.
Chapter 6
Sarah had never seen Nathan Martel. Had no clue there was anyone else in the forest.
She never heard him either.
For he had spotted her from a distance when he was tracking a small buck.
At first he couldn’t believe his good fortune.
As hungry as he was for fresh meat, the buck would have to wait. It would live to see another day. And he’d be back to get it soon enough.
Now he had a different prey.
Now his mind went back to all those times in recent years he’d wanted a woman. Not just to satisfy his lust, but also to cook and clean for him.
And there she was, two hundred yards in front of him, carrying a handful of flowers through a clearing.
She was pretty, too. And young. Couldn’t be more than thirty or so.
Just the way he liked them.
For an hour he tracked her. Moving only when she did, so his noise didn’t spook her.
Waiting for the perfect opportunity to attack.
For Martel was getting up there. He was well into his forties now, and had a bad knee.
He knew that if he gave himself away, she’d bolt.
And there was a fair chance she’d outrun him through the thick forest.
Each time she moved, he followed suit. And with each step they took, he gained a bit more ground. For he was a big man, over six and a half feet.
Sarah was a petite woman, just over five feet herself.
So with each stride he took, Martel gained a few more inches.
Finally, Sarah stopped to rest in another clearing.
She sat upon a fallen log, her back to the woods, and sipped from her water bottle.
Martel very slowly worked his way around the clearing, staying just inside the tree line. He was trying to sneak up behind her.
When he was twenty feet away, he chuckled. Actually, he laughed out loud.
But Sarah didn’t hear him. For seconds before she reached into her pocket and took out her MP-3 player, then turned it on and placed her earbuds into her ears.
She was listening to an old Beatles song when Martel slammed a rock against the back of her head and knocked her out cold.
Martel was on her in an instant, sitting on her back as he tied her wrists together, then her ankles.
Once he was certain she was unable to run, he took off her shoes and socks and belt.
The shoes he threw into the forest, in opposite directions.
He balled the socks up and stuffed them into the unconscious woman’s mouth.
Then he wrapped the belt around her head, holding the gag firmly in place.
The blood from her head wound soaked the grass.
Head wounds always bled profusely. He’d killed enough to know that.
And he didn’t want to go through all the trouble of finding and stalking his prey just to let her bleed out.
So he took off her blouse and wrapped it tightly around her head, covering the wound completely. The blouse quickly became saturated, but then the bleeding slowed to a trickle.
He removed her bra and admired her breasts while he thought out his next step.
Seeing Sarah topless, there in the grass, awakened something within him, and he decided to go further.
He removed the rest of her clothing and hid it underneath the log she’d been sitting on at the edge of the clearing.
Then he went back to her and raped her.
She was blissfully unaware.
Once done, the monster of a man threw her limp and naked body over his shoulder and carried her through the woods to where his stolen pickup was hidden two miles away.
It would take him the better part of two days to get there.
But it was worth the work.
For he finally bagged a trophy far better than the buck he’d come after.
Yes indeed. This was his lucky day.
Chapter 7
Bryan Snyder was a very proud man. He always had been. When he was a boy his father taught Bryan and his brother Mark many things.
How to hunt. How to fish. How to survive in a harsh environment. How to be tough.
But their father had taught the boys other things as well.
How to love.
How to watch out for those they loved. How to treat their women with dignity and respect.
And how to protect them.
There were times when the two conflicted… how to protect their women and how to maintain a tender side as well.
Bryan was not only a proud man, he was also tough as nails. He thought himself capable of conquering anything.
But this time he’d faltered. And the façade that was his toughness came crumbling down.
His mission to find his sweet Sarah had failed. And now his inner self, the weaker and indecisive one, came peeking out.
He fell to his knees, buried his face in his hands, and cried.
He didn’t care that others were watching. He didn’t care what they might think of him.
All he knew was that Sarah was out there… somewhere. Alone, afraid, and injured.
Depending on him to find her and bring her back home again.
To warm her and tend to her wounds and provide her comfort.
To ease her fears.
To show her she was loved.
And to be her hero.
“No matter what happens in the years ahead,” he’d said on the night they were married, “I will always be your Superman. I will always be there to rescue you whenever you need me.”
Only he wasn’t.
Bryan wasn’t the only one in the woods that day who carried the persona of a tough guy.
The U.S. Army soldiers who made up the rest of the search team considered themselves just as strong and manly.
Perhaps that was why they turned their eyes away from Bryan in his moment of sorrow.
Were they women, they’d have been at Bryan’s side, wrapping their arms around him and trying to soothe him, to ease his pain, to let them know they were there for him.
But men, and especially military men, are different.
Crying is a sign of weakness, especially when the tears are falling from a man’s face.
Weakness is something men tolerate only when they have to. But they avoid it like a deadly plague. And when another man displays such weakness, his peers tend to look the other way. To wish they were somewhere else.
For every one of them knew that under different circumstances, at a different time and place, it could well have been them. So out of courtesy they tried their best to excuse it. To look away, to pretend it didn’t happen.
Perhaps in the hopes that when it was their turn to cry that their friends and brothers would return the favor.
Every man present had lost someone when Saris 7 hit the earth. Some of them lost their whole families.
But that persona… the image they had to convey of being tough… prevented them from going to Bryan and comforting him.
Even as they understood his pain and anguish.
Dogs, on the other hand, wear their hearts on their sleeves.
They know that it’s possible to be tender and tough at the same time.
Man could learn a few things from dogs.
Duke was the bloodhound who’d spent two full days tracking Sarah’s scent before it vanished.
Duke felt his own disappointment, sure.
But here before him was a man in anguish. A man who had his head bowed and was weeping.
So Duke did what none of the men would do.
Duke went to Bryan to comfort him.
To let Bryan know that he wasn’t alone. That someone cared.
As Bryan wept openly and unashamedly, it was only the dog who took a place at his side.
Duke nuzzled his face, and tried to lick away the tears with his more than ample tongue.
It was the only comfort Bryan would get on this particular day.
Chapter 8
“I don’t understand. How could she just vanish? And are you positive she didn’t go any farther? Maybe Duke just lost the scent again. Maybe his nose just gave out again.”
Ben Cates, the dog’s handler, was adamant.
“No. He was going like gangbusters before we came to this roadway. The way he was behaving, the scent was strong and getting stronger by the minute. That meant he was getting closer to her, and he was getting excited about it.
“I trained this dog from a pup. We’ve been doing this for six years together. I know his behaviors, his moods. I can sense his frustration and disappointment. If her scent had gone weak for some reason, he’d still be pacing, trying to pick it back up again. He’s laid down. He’s awaiting further instructions. He’s given up.
“That means the scent hasn’t just gone weak. And he hasn’t lost his sense of smell. It means that the scent has vanished completely.”
Captain Martin stepped forward to offer to help.
“Look, Bryan. What Mr. Cates is saying makes sense. I’ve worked with him several times before. He can read Duke like you read a book. And it can’t be a coincidence that the scent vanished here. If it had vanished in the middle of the forest, I’d be suspect too.
“But it vanished here, right in the middle of one of the few paved roads in the area.
“In all likelihood someone stumbled across her. Maybe she flagged them down.
“And if she didn’t, then surely they would have recognized that she needed help. After two days without water she’d have been staggering and weak.
“I can almost guarantee you that whoever picked her up took her directly to the nearest hospital or clinic. She’s probably sitting in the clinic in Kerrville right now, sipping cold water and resting and trying to figure out a way to contact you. The way you’ve hidden your compound in the middle of the forest, and the way you’ve isolated yourselves from the rest of society, is working against you now.
“Sarah is probably hesitant to tell the hospital staff how to find you, for fear she’ll disclose your secret location. And they’ll likely not release her until she’s strong enough to walk out.
“And that might be days, if she lost enough blood. That means you’ll have to go to her.
“Let me call for a vehicle to pick you up here. It will take you to every hospital and clinic in the area. Every police station. Every sheriff’s office. She’s out there somewhere, being treated and waiting for you. I can almost guarantee it.”
Bryan was unconvinced.
And he was conflicted.
“But what if she’s still out there in the woods? What if she’s close by? What if she’s finally collapsed, unable to go any farther? What if she’s waiting for me to come to her? What if she dies because we call off the search and leave instead? If she’s in the hands of doctors and nurses, then she’s safe. Nothing else will happen to her. She’s got everything to lose and nothing to gain by me making the rounds of the hospitals and clinics looking for her. But if she’s still here, in the woods somewhere, then we are her only hope.”