Chapter Twelve #3
I put a hand over my mouth to stifle a gasp. They sounded so matter of fact. As if they were discussing laundry or grocery shopping. But they weren’t. They were talking about me. About slicing me up into little pieces and sending those pieces to Ryland.
I needed to escape. ASAP.
Glancing wildly around my prison, I gave the window another look. Maybe? It would be tight. I should have stuck to that no-carb diet last summer. Hindsight. Always great.
“You think he’s going to let her go once he gets the bear? She can probably ID us, and maybe him too, if she figures it out.”
“She hasn’t figured it out yet, and Julien has been careful not to let the dumb bitch see him. The roommate doesn’t have any pictures either. Smart move, telling her it’s against his religion to have his picture taken.”
A loud snicker. “Yeah. I can’t believe she fell for that. Anyways, whatever happens, happens. You know the boss isn’t about to take a fall, so yeah, there’s a good chance we’ll have to dispose of the chick.”
“I didn’t sign up for murder.” The second man sounded hesitant.
“It’s a bit late to back out now. If the boss thinks you’re not all in, he won’t hesitate to get rid of you too.”
“I didn’t say that. It’s just… I’ve never killed someone in cold blood. And she’s a woman. She ain’t done nothing. Just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“Think of her as another animal. It’s easier if you don’t talk to them before you do it, you know?
Don’t think of the mark as a person. And this time there’s a nice fat payout.
If we don’t find that white bear, the boss is going to be in a worse mood than he already is. This gig went south in a hurry.”
“Sure did. Who the hell are these Brotherhood guys, anyway? Never heard of them before. Do you think maybe there’s a curse on us? By a spirit or something watching over the bear. You know the Natives think they’re special.”
A loud snort sounded from the first guy.
“We don’t even know there really is a white bear.
It could be a hoax. Some kind of local PR stunt.
You know how rumors are. Someone wanted to sound like a big shot, so they pretended they saw one of those spirit bears and the next thing you know, everyone’s seen the damn thing.
Then the local tourist association grabs on to it to bring in people and fleece them for money.
There’s probably a good reason they’re called ghost bears. Probably aren’t even real.”
“Yeah.” He sounded doubtful. “Maybe. Pity though. Can you imagine the kind of money an animal like that would bring in once we pieced it out?”
I kept one ear cocked for any sounds indicating the kidnappers planned to come check on me while I sidled over to the mops stacked haphazardly in the corner. My heart thudded so loud I was amazed they hadn’t heard it and come to investigate.
I took a few deep breaths, willing the panic to subside.
I had too much to live for. I wasn’t about to let two scummy poachers end it now. What would Diego do without me? He wasn’t exactly a coveted breed that would have a dozen people waiting to adopt him. I needed to get out of here for his sake.
Eyeing the mop with the thickest handle, I plucked it from the bunch and unscrewed the disgustingly smelly head, tossing it back on the pile of rags. The door was locked, but sooner or later one of those men casually discussing my murder was going to come in and check up on me.
If I could trip them up, I’d have a chance to escape. Slim chance, depending on where the other guy was. Not likely that both of them would come to check.
From what I could recall, both men were on the hefty side. They probably outweighed me by at least fifty pounds, and if they were used to tramping through bush to poach animals, then they would be in good physical shape.
I had to try though. Sitting here and letting them kill me wasn’t an option, and by the sounds of that conversation, that would be the end result no matter what Ryland did.
I hefted the wooden rod. It seemed solid enough. Not the best weapon, but it was something. I flashed back to the conversation Ryland and I had on the island. The one about using what was at hand to disarm an opponent.
Off to the side of the mops was a collection of jugs, presumably cleaning solutions.
Keeping a firm grip on the mop handle, I crouched down to read the labels.
Most of them were blurred, hard to make out due to time and grunge but there was no mistaking the skull and crossbones labels, warning of a hazardous chemical.
If I splashed something in the poachers’ faces, I could blind one of them. Maybe both, if luck was on my side.
I could do this. I could save myself. Picking out a jug at random, I unscrewed the top and took a cautious sniff of the contents.
Yikes! I closed my eyes against the stringent fumes. Maybe a little too strong. If any of this splashed back at me, I could blind myself as well as the poachers. Not exactly what I had in mind.
I grabbed another jug and repeated the smell test. Better.
It had a flowery fragrance. I guessed it was some type of liquid soap, which had the added benefit of being thick enough to stick to my target without any backsplash.
Keeping a firm grasp on the broom handle, I picked a spot against the wall, near enough to the door to execute my plan without putting myself within reach of whoever came through it.
Unscrewing the top of the soap container, I tossed it away and settled in to wait. Jug in one hand and broom handle in the other, I felt a tiny flare of hope.
The seconds ticked by with excruciating slowness. What were they doing in there? I could hear muttered words, but it sounded like the two men were farther from the door now, and I couldn’t make out the conversation. The odd word I managed to decipher gave no clue as to what was going on.
My plan hinged on someone coming to check on me.
The panic started to resurface. I’d only get one shot at this. My life depended on getting out of this building and away from these guys. I needed to calm down. I took a long, deep breath, holding it for a count of five before letting it out. And again. It helped. A little.
The element of surprise was in my favor. I had to capitalize on it. I forced myself to think of Diego, waiting for me to return. And Ryland. Did he even know I was missing yet?