39
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” said Rowan as she stepped out of Malcolm’s Jeep and shined her flashlight on the brush ahead. The dirt road was more than overgrown. It was a dense forest. Driving in had been rough, the road severely rutted and full of rocks.
“I understand why you know about this place,” Rowan had said as she hung on in the Jeep with both hands. Since he’d returned, Malcolm had searched out every nearby location to challenge himself and his Jeep. He’d joined a local Jeeping group that loved to spend weekends testing the limits of their vehicles.
A passion second only to baking.
“Let’s look over this way,” said Malcolm, pointing his flashlight to the left. “Are you armed?”
“No. I’ve got nothing with me except a flashlight.” She frowned at him, noticing he carried a handgun. “Which is all we’ll need to find out if Sid’s vehicle is nearby.”
“I can tell you right now that something has driven through here recently,” Malcolm said. “See?” His flashlight scanned over crushed grass and broken branches. “They won’t have gotten far, though. What’s he drive?”
“A Ford F-150.”
“I guess it could break a trail like this,” Malcolm muttered as he started to follow the tracks. “Ground is hard enough. No rocks in this direction, but his paint job will be a wreck from branches. I don’t know how he plans to get out.”
“Maybe he’s not planning to leave,” Rowan said quietly, earning an alarmed glance from Malcolm.
“Suicide?”
Murder/suicide?
“I don’t know,” said Rowan. “But if he’s here, he’s put himself into a situation without a lot of options.”
Would he kill Evan? And Zack?
She started to ask what type of person would kill a child and then shut her mouth just in time. Malcolm’s kidnapper had been exactly that person. Her brother had experienced and seen things she couldn’t imagine. She followed him, keeping her light on the ground as they carefully picked their way through the brush. The path gently angled down, and Rowan heard the quiet splashing of a creek far below.
Twenty yards later Malcolm said, “There it is.” His flashlight shone on the back of a Ford pickup.
We found them!
Dumbfounded, Rowan stared at the truck, expecting it to evaporate before her eyes. She’d hoped to find it but had fully expected not to.
Its front end was wedged against a tree at a downward angle, a back wheel in the air. Sid would never be able to get it out without a tow truck.
“Call Noelle,” said Malcolm.
“Let’s check the inside first,” said Rowan. Anxiety crawled under her skin.
Could someone be in it?
“I’ll do that. Stay back.” He drew his gun and slowly approached the truck. He pointed his light inside, checking the back and front seats. He glanced at her, shook his head, and then made his way back. “The floor is littered with soda bottles and crap. There’s some ropes and short bungee cords in the back seat. He probably strapped them down for the drive.”
Rowan exhaled. Hopefully, that meant Evan and Zack were still alive. She pulled out her phone to call Noelle and wasn’t surprised to see she didn’t have service. They’d moved partway down into a gully. She’d have to go back to the top, where they’d parked.
Distant screams filled the air, and Rowan nearly dropped her phone.
“That’s a child,” gasped Malcolm.
Rowan couldn’t move. The child sounded as if he were being tortured. She looked at her brother in the dim light. He was frozen, his eyes wide.
He’s remembering horrible things.
She grabbed Malcolm’s arm and shook him out of his trance. “I don’t have service! We need to go back up to call!”
“We can’t leave him!”
“It’ll just take a minute! And then the police will get here quick.” She pulled on his arm. He wouldn’t move. “Malcolm! We can’t go in there!”
“He’s hurting him!”
“I know!” Her vision blurred at the pain in Malcolm’s voice. “We can’t help until we call the police! That man is dangerous!” The screams made the hair on her neck stand up. She yanked on her brother, and he finally stumbled after her as they scrambled up the slope.
“Fucking leave him alone!”
At the far-off shout, Rowan and Malcolm halted.
That’s Evan!