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Hidden Away Page 17


  “It’ll be okay.” Her touch, the softness in her expression, drew him in and warmed him to the marrow of his bones.

  “You could die. I don’t want you to die.”

  He kissed her forehead and then her lips. He loved her. In that moment, he knew that he loved her. Even if they couldn’t be together, he loved her. “I don’t want to die either but this is the best way for us to get a safe distance from him. We have to work our way down the mountain and get out of rifle range.” The plan was not foolproof. Nick still might choose to follow them.

  Another rifle shot reverberated through the forest, stirring up snow close to the rock. They both crouched lower.

  “After I go, count to three and then run as fast as you can.”

  She nodded.

  Jason burst up from the rock and ran in a zigzag pattern, jumping around the smaller rocks. Two rifle shots zinged past him, one so close that the displaced air pummeled his eardrum. He dived to the ground.

  He caught a flash of color below him. Isabel had chosen to go toward a cluster of trees instead of the outcropping. Another shot shattered the silence of the wild. It was aimed at her. From where he lay on the ground, he prayed that the shot had missed her.

  She disappeared into the cluster of trees.

  Using the moment it would take Nick to reorient himself, Jason burst up from the ground and darted toward the shelter of the trees. He glanced to his side. Nick had worked his way down the mountain by maybe ten yards. He’d have to stop to line up another shot.

  Jason could see the trees up ahead and spotted Isabel’s jacket again. His foot hooked on a rock and he stumbled and fell facedown into the snow. The fall shocked and disoriented him. His brain told him he needed to stand up and to keep running, but his body remained unresponsive.

  Isabel emerged from the trees, reaching out to pull him to his feet. Another shot sounded. So close. They hurried toward the shelter of the trees five yards away.

  Another shot echoed down the mountain, breaking a branch above them. Birds fluttered into the sky. Jason grabbed Isabel and held her close.

  “Don’t do that ever again. You could have died.”

  She nestled against his chest. “I didn’t want to lose you, Jason.”

  More than anything, he wished they could remain suspended in the moment. He wanted to hold her forever. He kissed the top of her head. “Not if I can help it.”

  A groaning noise reached his ears, followed by a thud: Nick’s feet as he jumped off a large rock, making his way down toward them.

  “We have to keep moving.” Jason peered through the trees, searching for their next point of cover. It was dark enough that most objects were only shadows.

  “What if we worked our way back up to the road and got to that plow?” she said.

  “It’s worth a try. Move parallel to the road for a while, so he doesn’t figure out what we’re doing,” whispered Jason.

  Through the trees, he could see Nick turning from side to side, searching the landscape for them. The glint of the rifle caught in the moonlight.

  They sprinted from one rock outcropping to another, from brush to clusters of trees. Twice, rifle shots zinged over their heads, forcing them to drop to the ground and crawl.

  Jason gasped for breath as they ran toward a boulder closer to the road. He could see the edge of the road just above him. Isabel kept pace with him as they half ran, half climbed up to the road.

  Once they were on the level footing of the road, he leaned over, resting his hands on his knees to catch his breath. It had been at least ten minutes since a shot was fired. He didn’t see Nick anywhere down below.

  Isabel patted her heart and took in a quick breath. She glanced nervously down the steep incline, shaking her head. “He doesn’t give up easily.”

  As crazy as Nick was, he seemed to have the stalking instincts of a lion.

  Once his breath slowed, Jason pivoted and jogged down the road with Isabel beside him. His leg muscles strained from all the running and climbing they’d done. They rounded one curve and then another. Still no sign of the plow. They must be getting close.

  Jason slowed down enough to talk. “He may be waiting for us at the plow, suspecting that we would try to get to it.”

  Most of the landscape was repetitive. It was hard to know how close they were.

  Isabel shot ahead of him. “I see snowplow tracks down there.”

  He saw them now too, but no snowplow. When they got to the tracks, it was clear that Nick had backed the plow up until he came to a place where he could turn around and head back down the road.

  “So much for that plan.” Isabel slumped down onto a tree stump beside the road.

  The plow probably had a radio in it. Had he been told to get back to work? Or maybe he’d just decided to leave them to the elements for now. How far were they from shelter?

  “This road has to lead somewhere.”

  “Can I rest for a minute?” she said.

  He could tell from her tone of voice she was giving up hope.

  “Sure.” He paced down the road, looking for smoke rising in the air from a woodstove or lights, any sign of civilization. He didn’t see anything but trees and rock.

  It was a sure bet that whoever was behind all the smuggling wouldn’t risk their getting back to civilization. Sooner or later, someone would come looking for them to kill them.

  * * *

  From the tree stump where she sat, Isabel tilted her head. Clouds slipped over the moon, making it darker. The snowfall had stopped at least.

  Sitting still made her feel the cold more intensely. She rose to her feet and rubbed her arms, pushing the despair that plagued her to the back of her mind. No matter what, she needed to not give up hope. They couldn’t be that far from a place where they could find help and shelter.

  Jason returned and held out a gloved hand for her to take. “Let’s head down the road. We’re bound to run into something or someone.”

  “I suppose that’s what we should do.” She couldn’t hide the weariness in her voice.

  Jason scanned the area above them as though he were looking for potential threats. Then he looked at her. His eyes filled with compassion. “It’s the best plan I have for now.”

  They were both exhausted and cold, but being with Jason somehow made it bearable.

  They ran for what felt like miles. The ground leveled out. They passed an area that was fenced off with barbed wire, but there were no cows or ranchers, no sign of life anywhere.

  They drank from a mountain stream, the water icy cold as she cupped it in her hands. Isabel stood up from the creek and put her hands on her hips. With the terrain so flat, she could see for miles and still there was no sign of people.

  “I guess we were pushed farther back into the hills than I realized.”

  They heard the sound of a vehicle on the road before they saw the headlights. Any noise echoed in the quiet. Both of them moved toward some brush and crouched. If it was someone who could help them, they’d have a hard time catching up to him, but they couldn’t risk being spotted if Nick or one of his cohorts came looking for them.

  The battered old truck came around the bend and stopped. A man got out and peered down the road, shining a flashlight. Their tracks where they’d made their way down to the mountain stream were clearly visible.

  “It’s not Nick. Not his build.” The truck hadn’t been one of the ones in the parking lot at the snowplow facility.

  Isabel jumped to her feet and waved. “Hey.” She ran across the field as the man took notice of her.

  Jason followed her.

  She hollered as the man came to the edge of the road. “Boy, are we glad to see you.”

  The man was maybe thirty years old. Fringes of red hair peeked out from beneath a knit cap. He pointed across the field. “Saw your tracks. Not many people
come up Copper Junction Road. You folks break down or something?”

  “You could say that. Could you give us a ride back into town or at least some place where we can phone for someone to come pick us up?”

  The man pulled his hat off and rubbed his hair. He wasn’t wearing gloves. “Sure. I can do that.”

  They made their way up the hill. Isabel got into the cab first. Jason squeezed in by the passenger-side door of the old truck as he and the man made small talk about fishing and hunting.

  The truck lumbered down the road until they came to a crossroads and took a right turn.

  Isabel tensed. Maybe she’d gotten all turned around when they were running away, but it seemed like town was in the other direction.

  “There’s a little gas station up the road where you folks will be able to make your phone call,” said the man as though he had read her mind.

  Maybe because they’d been running for so long and seen the dark side of humanity, her trust in the goodness of people had been dismantled. She couldn’t let go of the feeling that something wasn’t right.

  The man continued to drive down a two-lane that didn’t connect with a main road.

  Isabel squeezed Jason’s leg just above the knee to get his attention. She raised her eyebrows, hoping he would indicate that he felt the same uneasiness.

  Jason kept talking about where the best fishing holes were, but he pressed his shoulder a little harder against hers.

  The bleak unsettled landscape rolled by.

  “How far did you say it was to that gas station?” She hoped her voice didn’t give away the fear that had taken up residence in her body.

  “Oh, just up the road a piece.” The man shifted gears.

  They came up over a hill.

  Terror crashed through Isabel.

  Down below was the warehouse with the snowplows. The man reached into the side compartment of the door and pulled out a pistol, which he aimed at Isabel. His voice grew sinister and dark. “Don’t think about jumping out or fighting back. I’ll shoot her faster than you can blink.”

  The truck rolled down the hill so fast, it would have been dangerous to try to escape. The parking lot was empty except for one car. Theirs was nowhere in sight and Nick’s black truck was gone.

  Isabel’s heart pounded against her rib cage. The man parked the truck, still pointing the gun at her. “Now we’re going to go inside. No funny business. Got that?”

  They both nodded.

  “I’ll get out of the cab first, understand,” the redheaded man said.

  She stared at the barrel of the gun and nodded. Her hands were trembling, and her mouth had gone completely dry.

  The man pulled the keys out of the ignition. He smiled. This time she saw the darkness behind his eyes. “Just in case you were going to try something.”

  Snow swirled lightly out of the sky as the man marched them into the warehouse. Isabel glanced at Jason, trying to read his expression. It was two against one, even if one had a gun.

  Jason lifted his head in a nod, indicating that they should try to take the man with the gun.

  Isabel stopped.

  “Keep moving.” The redheaded man aimed the gun at her.

  Jason used the moment of distraction to whirl around and kick the gun out of the man’s hand. It flew, landing in deep snow. While she ran to find the gun, Isabel heard the slap of skin against skin as the men exchanged blows.

  Heart racing, she scanned the snow for the gun while the men continued to fight.

  Then she heard it. The click of a shotgun shell being ratcheted into the chamber. “Put your hands in the air.”

  She turned, staring into the cold eyes of the short muscular man who had come after her at the Wilsons’ house. Mr. Gun.

  “You too.” The short man aimed the gun at Jason.

  The redheaded man scrambled in the snow to retrieve his handgun and then pointed it at Isabel.

  “I told you not to try anything funny,” he said between gasps for air.

  Jason and Isabel marched side by side. She wasn’t about to give up. There had to be a way to get free. The man with the handgun ran ahead and opened the door. Just outside the glass-walled office, they stepped out onto a mezzanine that provided a view of the entire facility.

  All the plows were back in place. There was no one behind the glass of the office or down below by the plows.

  The men led them down to the room where the snowplow parts were stored and commanded them to sit on the floor with their backs to each other. The redhead bound their hands and gagged their mouths with duct tape and tied the two of them together with rope back to back.

  “Now, you just sit tight until the boss gets back. He can decide what to do with you.” The man traced a finger down Isabel’s cheek. “At which time, I get to collect a bonus for finding you.”

  He winked at Isabel, rose to his feet and slipped out the door. Mr. Gun followed. The door closed. As far as she could see, there were only two men in the facility right now. If they could get out of this room, they might be able to escape.

  Jason wriggled, struggling to break free. Isabel twisted her hands, hoping to loosen the duct tape that bound them. Her wrists hurt from the effort.

  After a moment of stillness, his head brushed against the back of hers as he studied his surroundings. He scooted across the floor toward the metal shelves that held the motor parts. Isabel pushed with her feet to move with him. He must have seen something on the shelf that might help them escape.

  She had no idea what his plan was or when “the boss” would return and decide how to kill them. She had no doubt their death was imminent if they didn’t find a way to escape their captors and get to one of those vehicles.

  NINETEEN

  Jason had spotted a piece of metal protruding from one of the lower shelves. He might be able to cut himself free and then remove the duct tape from Isabel, as well. He lifted his hands, which were tied in front of him, and scraped the tape along the metal.

  Even though he had no idea if they had ten minutes to escape or ten hours, a sense of urgency made it feel like there was a weight on his chest. He sawed back and forth as the layers of duct tape were cut away. He was nearly free when he heard footsteps outside the room.

  They both scooted back across the floor to where they had been put. Jason pressed the cut tape back around his wrists and held his hands as though they were still bound. The door burst open and the redheaded man stepped in.

  He crossed his arms over his chest. “Boss is back. Just a few minutes and we’ll get this mess wrapped up.” The man punched his fist against his palm and narrowed his eyes. His expression chilled Jason to the bone.

  The man grinned. “Don’t go anywhere now.” He laughed, shaking his head. “I crack myself up.” He closed the door.

  Jason listened to the man’s boots pounding on the concrete floor before twisting free of the rope that bound him to Isabel. He tore the gag off his mouth, and then, still crouching, he came to help Isabel. She stared up at him. He touched the corner of the duct tape on her mouth. “This will hurt.”

  She nodded, her eyes filled with trust. He ripped it off in one quick motion. A tiny gasp escaped her lips.

  He tried to peel the tape off her hands. He pulled, winding the layers of tape off her wrists until she was free.

  He ran to the outside door they had used when they first entered the building. Locked.

  “Let’s see if we can find another way out.” They wove through the shelves that reached up to the high ceiling until they found a back door. The door opened to a landing and a stairwell leading upward.

  It was too much to hope that it would lead them straight outside.

  He pressed against the wall and stepped lightly up the stairs. Isabel touched his arm as she stood one step below him. At the top of the stairs, he eased the door open s
lowly.

  Raised voices drifted down a hallway. He slipped through the door, not daring to open it all the way, and then he crouched on the carpet. They must be in the hallway behind the glass-walled office.

  Three men were arguing. The only voice he recognized was Nick’s.

  He couldn’t pick up all the conversation. It sounded like an argument over money for a job they’d just done. Thundering footsteps came up the hallway into the office as the voice of the man who had tied them up blasted through the room. “They’ve escaped.”

  Jason angled around the corner just in time to see three men running out of the office. Nick, the man who had been kissing the maid and a third man—Larry, the FBI agent who had picked them up when they’d escaped from the Wilsons’ house. Now they knew who the turncoat was.

  All the men ran in the opposite direction of where Isabel and he were hiding. The fourth man, the redhead, trailed behind. He waited until he heard the sound of the slamming door and moved toward the office. Isabel grabbed his arm. “What are you doing?”

  “There’s probably a phone in there.” He stepped into the empty office and she entered behind him. “We can call Michael now. He’s not the turncoat.”

  “I don’t think we have time to wait for help. We should get out of here.”

  Her thinking was clearer than his.

  “I’m sure they will send a man out to the parking lot to make sure we can’t get to those cars.”

  Light came into Isabel’s eyes. “The snowplows. They won’t be expecting us to use one of the snowplows.”

  He peered through the glass wall of the office. Down below, a man ran by. Jason and Isabel crouched out of view but where they were still able to watch the activity. The man looked from side to side and then took a door that led to the parking lot.

  They heard the thunder of footsteps up metal stairs.

  They needed to get out of here and fast. The door they’d come through led back to the parts storage room. Jason ran down the hallway and tried another door that had stairs leading down. Just as he closed the door he heard voices in the hallway headed back toward the office.