Chapter 8
I ran like hell. My knees and back protested from the weight of the guns and hiking bag, but I kept going.
I pushed on, wading through dense underbrush and ducking low branches, even when it felt like my lungs had collapsed.
I didn’t dare to stop. Not until a good half hour did I allow my feet to slow, only barely, into a brisk walk.
Pacing myself was an impossible feat. My body had a visceral need to get as far away from that cabin as possible.
I wanted to be far enough ahead, that they had no chance of catching up to me, of dragging me back there.
No way. I intended to live.
I walked for hours. My only thoughts were of putting as much distance between me and my captors. It took me a while to register my surroundings, and that uneasiness clawing at my ribs, to understand the gravity of what I was doing. I was walking in the woods at night.
My ears perked up, processing the sounds around me for the first time. It made the hair on the back of my neck stand up.
Shit.
An ungodly scream, that seemed particularly close, pierced my ears and I shot to the ground.
It didn’t sound human or animal. I kept my eyes low.
At all costs, you should never look at it.
But I listened. I listened for any movement in the underbrush around me.
I stayed perfectly still while I listened.
After a while of silence, I found the courage to stand back up.
Whatever lurked in these woods scared the shit out of me, but there was no choice but to keep moving.
Dumping the rifles inside a bush freed my hands to carry the handgun—ready to fire.
The gun would probably be useless for this purpose, but it made me feel a bit better.
My pace was fast, but calm. I had been an idiot for running earlier.
My eyes never ventured further than a few feet ahead, and never to the treetops.
My nerves got the better of me after another few hours of walking.
Every sound made me want to crawl out of my skin.
The last straw was a flash of something moving inhumanly fast to my right, through the underbrush.
I only had a quick glimpse of sickly greyish flesh, but it was my wakeup call.
I was insane for walking exposed like this, for so long.
I followed the faint tug in my mind and found a large mother tree with a hollowed-out base, beckoning me to safety. It was big enough for me to crawl inside and place the bag in front of the hole.
Within a few minutes of gathering myself and easing my tensed muscles, the cold registered. So, I unclipped the sleeping bag and unrolled it. My body was shivering, but it wasn’t just the cold. I huddled into the sleeping bag and rested my head against the tree.
You are going to get through this.
You’re gonna be okay.
I hadn’t noticed when I fell asleep, but a squirrel scurrying above my head startled me awake. The first light of day shone through the hole in the tree.
I was still alive. My prayers hadn’t gone unanswered.
The hiking bag was still covering the hole, so I pushed it back with my foot to climb out.
A sigh of relief washed through me as the birds and little animals scurried through the treetops.
There was a stark difference between the woods at night and in daytime.
I rummaged through the pack for the first time.
It would be a good thing to know exactly what I was working with.
I found a watch that doubled as a compass and quickly strapped it around my wrist. It was the first time in a while that I had a sense of time.
There was also a first aid kit; foldable hiking sticks; cooking utensils; an emergency tent and tarps; freeze dried food pouches and an empty water bottle.
That made me curse out loud. I hadn’t thought of packing water.
Could the water in the streams be drinkable this deep in the forest?
I’ve never been this deep in. If I ever came across a stream or river, I’d have to make a fire to boil the water, just to be safe.
There should be fire starters in the pack, but I wasn’t sitting around any longer to look.
It was time to go. My captors could wake any moment, and I had to put more distance between us.
I would have to do without water for now.
I could always extract water from safe plants, if necessary.
Everything was packed away, except for an apple that would serve as my breakfast.
With the map, my new compass, and a few head scratches later, my path was set.
I just needed to keep heading east, and I would come across the hiking trail.
But was it a full day’s walk? Two maybe?
I hauled the bag onto my back and pressed my forehead to the tree, thanking her for protecting me, then started walking.
My feet were swift and light as I manoeuvred over the forest terrain; so much easier now that it was daytime.
The air was chilly, but I welcomed it. I felt nervous.
Did I put enough distance between me and them?
That thought made me pick up my pace.
By noon, my mouth was as dry as my plants at home surely were.
Rachel had never been good at remembering to water them.
The water I’d collected at a stream was tempting me.
And I didn’t dare to stop long enough to tap into one of the many Wild Grapevines along my path.
Instead, I pulled out an orange, hoping it would help.
I ate as I walked. There was no time to rest.
A sudden loud bang had me ducking down. It was a gunshot. I moved as swiftly as I could behind a tree. Did they find me? My heart was banging in my throat.
No. No. The robbers’ guns were dumped under a bush.
It couldn’t be them. Even in the unlikely possibility that they found the rifles, I was too far ahead.
It couldn’t be them, I tried to reassure myself again.
I meticulously surveyed the area around me, just to be sure.
There was another shot, closer this time.
The birds flew from the treetops, trying to get away. I had to make a decision.
“Hello?” I yelled into the air, not sure which direction the gunshot came from.
Silence.
My stomach was making flip flops. “Hello?” I yelled again, a bit harder. A bit more desperate.
Silence. And then, “Who’s there?” It was a man’s voice yelling back at me. But it wasn’t Grayson’s. And I was pretty sure it wasn’t the surfer either.
I shot to my feet, running towards the sound of his voice. “I’m here! Help me, please!”
“Who are you?” he yelled back. He was closer! I ran as fast as I could, already sobbing, towards his voice. I had found someone! Gods, I was going home! They had answered my prayers.
I almost ran right into him, before noticing him. Coming to an abrupt stop, I toppled over, but the man caught me, steadying me by my arms. My fingers clasped painfully onto his dirty jacket as I cried. The sobs racked through my body so violently, I couldn’t speak.
He was a heavy-set man with a grey beard. He looked like he could be in his late forties and dressed in camo from head to toes. He was shushing me, patting my arm. “It’s okay. Calm yerself, girly. You’re all right.”
When I managed to calm down, he asked me again, “Who’re you? What ya doin’ all the way out here?”
“I’ve been kidnapped, and I escaped. Please help me!” I panted through my tears.
He whistled. “Good lordy! They still after you?” He scanned the forest behind me.
I shook my head. “No… yes. I don’t know,” I finally said.
He took me by my arm. “Okay, let’s go back to my camp and you tell me everything.”
“Do you have a cell phone? I need to call the police.”
“No, girly. I left it back in my truck. There ain’t no service up here. It’d be useless.”
I looked at him panicked. “How far away is your truck?”
“Oh, it’s about a two-day hike from my campsite.”
My stomach dropped. Two days. Two days.
He patted me sympathetically on the arm. “Now, now. Don’t look so discouraged. I’ll get you outta here. Meantime, me and Patsy here, we’ll protect you.” He patted the gun… or Patsy that hung from his shoulder. “Now tell me how you ended up here.”
After finding some composure, I told him everything as we walked through the forest, starting with the bank robbery.
We walked slow, because the man had a messed-up knee.
That made me nervous. The robbers could catch up to us.
I could feel them gaining on us. But the man assured me that we were a needle in a haystack.
They wouldn’t even know in which direction I had headed.
It calmed me enough to tolerate the slow progress we were making.
By the time we reached his camp, I had told my story and answered all his questions.
He had promised me that we would pack up his camp and leave first thing in the morning.
I objected at first, wanting to start the hike back to his truck as soon as possible, but he made a good point.
It was already two o’clock. By the time his camping gear would be packed up, we wouldn’t have much daylight left anyway.
And we really shouldn’t be out and about at night.
Not again. So, I reluctantly agreed. At the very least, I had someone with a gun, who could stand up to Grayson.
When we reached the camp, he gave me some water and then started a fire to cook me some food.
I was famished. The camp was neat, but it was obvious he had been here for quite some time.
He didn’t have much but a tent, a fireplace with his cooking utensils, a washing line spanned across two trees with some clothes on it, and a stump he used to chop wood.
“I haven’t gotten your name,” I said as the fire’s heat spread through my palms, while watching the hunter get his pot ready.
“The name’s Donald, but everyone just calls me Digger.”