Chapter Five
The ordeal seemed to shift from frightening to downright intolerable when Sam began to sing “You Ain’t Nothin’ But a Hound Dog,” butchering the Elvis tune.
“Please!” Madeline groaned. “This is enough of a nightmare without your singing.”
Sam glanced over his shoulder, an amused half-grin working at his profile as he chanted the lyrics again, louder and even more off-key than before.
Sherry buried her face in her knees and wrapped her arms over her head, but still the wailing continued.
“Give up, Madeline,” Clint moaned from his position on the floor. “I’ve been listening to it for months. He sings when he’s nervous … or bored … or tired … or happy …”
Sam arched an undaunted brow and did a drumroll on his steering wheel, humming loudly.
“He would have been a rock singer,” Clint explained, “except that he lacked one crucial element called talent, plus he can never remember the lyrics.”
“Just for that,” Sam said in a mock wounded tone, “I’m going to have to do my new and improved version of ‘Peggy Sue.'”
“First they kidnap us, then they torture us,” Madeline mumbled.
Sam cocked a brow. “Driving throws me off-key. I’ll do better on the plane.”
“What plane?” Clint perked up at the new development.
“The one I arranged for when I realized things had blown up in our faces. It should be waiting for us at the little airstrip not too far from here.”
Sherry nudged Madeline. “This is the time,” she whispered. “Pretend that we won’t give them any trouble, then when they let us out we can tell them we have to go to the bathroom and make a run for it.”
“Be serious,” Madeline returned. “Don’t you think these guys can outrun us?”
“Maybe they can,” Sherry said. “But if we have a few minutes’ head start we might get to safety before they can find us.”
The road turned rocky, and the interior of the van darkened as they entered another wooded area and wound down a path that didn’t seem at all suited for such a vehicle. Branches scraped against the sides of the van, and the sound of gravel under the wheels sent a shiver up her spine. How far into these woods would they take them? And how in the world would they ever get back out if they did escape?
Calm down, Sherry, she told herself. There must be a clearing somewhere, otherwise there couldn’t be an airstrip. They could just hide in the woods until Clint and Sam gave up on them, and then follow the path. Don’t be ridiculous, she reminded herself. Clint wasn’t going to give up. Not unless his danger was so immediate that he couldn’t risk wasted time.
The van came to an opening, and she saw a large field with a runway down the middle. A small single-engine plane idled there, waiting for them. Sam stopped the van, and the two men got out and slid open the side door. “Let’s go,” Clint said, holding out a hand for Sherry.
Sherry stepped down. The forest surrounding the airfield seemed rougher and more primitive, as if it was rarely visited by the human species. But there had to be a way out, she told herself, for they weren’t far from the highway. “We … we need to go to the bathroom,” she ventured.
“You’ll have to wait,” Clint said.
Madeline danced around impatiently. “Come on, have a heart.”
“She won’t make it,” Sherry said. “She’s got a small bladder.”
Madeline blushed convincingly as Sherry pulled her to the trees. Clint started after them, but Sherry spun around, forcing her breath to function normally. “Look around you, Clint. Do you really see any possibility of escape? There are probably snakes in there, not to mention other rabid, hungry animals. Would I really be foolish enough to risk getting stuck here overnight? Let the woman go in peace.”
Clint heaved an impertinent sigh. “All right,” he said finally. “Hurry up.”
Sherry led Madeline off in the direction that seemed least dangerous an area of the woods with thick bushes and matted vines webbed between the trees.
“All right,” Sherry whispered as they pushed limbs aside as fast as their arms would move. “As soon as we get far enough away that they can’t hear, we’re going to run.”
“Where?” Madeline asked in a whisper. “I don’t know where we are. Do you?”
“We’ll figure it out,” Sherry assured her.
“But it’ll be dark in a couple of hours. What if we get caught in here overnight? What about those rabid, hungry animals you mentioned a minute ago? I’m not so sure I wouldn’t rather be with Clint and Sam.”
“How can you say that?” Sherry hissed. “They have guns. They’re taking us on a plane to who knows where. They’re making us accessories to whatever they’ve done.”
“We’re not accessories. We’re victims,” Madeline argued. “And a guy who sings ‘Peggy Sue’couldn’t be that dangerous.”
Sherry had never wanted to strangle her roommate more. “Madeline, even if we could be sure they wouldn’t hurt us, they are obviously not the only ones involved. There are others. Someone’s in that plane. How do you know they aren’t dangerous?” Sherry led Madeline at a brisk pace while they whispered, brush cracking underfoot. A branch scraped Sherry’s arm, drawing blood, but she tried to ignore it. Her eyes darted from left to right, straining for some idea of an escape route. As if by miracle, she spotted a dry spring that cut a path of earth through the trees. She turned around and held a branch up for Madeline to duck under.
“Look, there’s a clearing between those trees. Looks like a spring might have been here once. We could jump down in it and run as fast as we can that way until we reach the edge of the woods. Then we’re safe.”
Madeline eyed the beveled, leaf-filled ditch and brought troubled eyes back to Sherry.
“Madeline, are you with me or not? We have to go now.”
“Okay,” the woman finally agreed, though every nuance of her expression indicated fierce doubt. “Take off. I’m right behind you.”
Sherry skidded down the incline to the dry spring and started to run as fast as her legs would carry her. Two years of jogging might have put her in shape for this sort of thing, she thought as she leapt over rocks and roots. But her sparse diet for the past two days, her sleepless night, and the strain that had been tearing at her muscles all day put her at a grave disadvantage.
Somewhere in the distance behind them, she heard her name being called in anger, and forced her legs to move faster. She heard Madeline stumble and fall, then begin to run again.
The sound of distant car engines caught her attention, telling her that the highway was not far away. She strained her ears and listened for the direction, but Clint’s voice came threateningly behind her.
“Stop it, Sherry! You’re going to get yourself killed!”
“This way,” she whispered to Madeline. “I can hear the highway.”
They scurried up the side of the ditch and tore out through the thick wall of trees, vaulting in the direction of the road sounds that seemed even closer. But progress was slow, for nature prohibited them from getting through without stopping every few minutes to make passage.
“Over there!” she heard Clint yell to Sam, too close behind them.
Sherry hurled her body through the brush, ignoring the way thorns clung to her clothes and snagged her skin. She came upon a drop-off and told Madeline to jump.
“But it’s an eight-foot fall, at least,” Madeline whispered.
Sherry ignored her and jumped, landing in a springing position that tested every muscle in her body. Madeline followed, but her landing was not as graceful. She fell, sprawled, her knee twisted beneath her. She yelled.
“Can you walk?” Sherry asked frantically. “Can you get up?”
Madeline pulled herself up and tried to take a step, but her knee gave way.
The sound of cracking branches, running feet, and mumbled expletives reminded them of their urgency. “Go ahead, Sherry,” Madeline whispered. “You’re almost to
the highway. I’ll be all right.”
Sherry wrapped her arm around Madeline’s waist and tried to help her. “No. I’m not going without you.”
“For heaven’s sake,” Madeline pressed. “It won’t do any good for us both to get caught. At least you can go somewhere and call the police.”
The sound of the two running men grew closer, and Sherry hesitated.
“Sherry, use your head! Get out of here!”
She looked above her and saw Sam come into view. “There they are!” he shouted.
“Run, Sherry!” Madeline ordered.
Torn, Sherry saw Clint running toward the drop-off as if to jump, and she turned and bolted into the woods, running as fast as she could go. The highway sounded within feet of her. Perhaps she’d make it. But behind her she heard Madeline yelling and sobbing, and Clint’s heavy footsteps gaining on her.
Twenty yards ahead she saw the trees thinning, heard the sound of an eighteen-wheeler rolling by, and felt the first bit of relief she’d known in hours. But suddenly Clint was behind her, his footsteps pounding the earth. A long arm reached out to grab her.
A scream tore from her throat, but he pressed his hand over her mouth and tackled her to the ground. She struggled with all her might and squirmed away, scrambled to her feet, and started to run again. But Clint caught her around the waist, clamping her arms to her sides. “Don’t … even … think about moving.”
Tears of helplessness burst into her eyes and spilled over her cheeks. She shut her eyes.
“I love you, Sherry,” he whispered heavily. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”
Tears ran down her cheeks, and a sob burst from her throat. “You already have,” she whispered.
He turned her around and she stared up at Clint, watching a look of sympathy flash across his face, a look brought on by her tears and vulnerability. Still holding her with one arm, he wiped beneath her eye with a knuckle. She moved her face aside. “I’m going to keep trying to get away from you until I do.”
“And I’ll have to keep stopping you,” he said.
“You might have to kill me to do it.”
He didn’t answer, but a look of both pain and anger twisted his face, and he started walking, pulling her along beside him.
Sam was waiting with Madeline when they reached the drop-off that had been their downfall.
“Oh, Sherry,” Madeline moaned when she saw that she’d been caught. “You were so close.”
Sam and Clint exchanged sober looks. “Get up, Madeline,” Clint said. “We’re going to the plane.”
Sam shook his head with something nearing disgust in his eyes. “She twisted her knee. I’ll have to carry her.”
“We’ll follow this drop-off until it’s low enough to climb,” Clint said, his bass voice deep and without inflection. He took Sherry’s hand and pulled her behind him.
Sherry followed without a fight, though her eyes, now dry and alert, kept a constant lookout for some other escape route. Another one would arise soon enough. When it did, she would be ready. And no matter what the cost, she would risk it. For she had no intention of falling under the power and dominance of the dangerous criminal wearing the face of the man she had loved.
Chapter Six
The plane that waited for them was small and didn’t seat more than eight people. Clint pulled Sherry on and made her sit in one of the back seats, hooked her in, and told her not to move. But he knew she would try again. He was all out of threats. Short of actually hurting her, he didn’t know how he would protect her.
He went back to the front of the plane, where the pilot, a woman named Erin, busied herself with her checklist before taking off.
In the seats behind the pilot, Madeline sat with her pantleg rolled up, checking out her knee. “So what do you think?” Clint asked. “Anything broken?”
“Like you really care,” Madeline said. Then under her breath, she added, “I think it’s sprained.”
Sam closed the door and took the seat beside her. “Should keep her from pulling another stupid stunt for a while.”
“Yeah,” Clint mumbled. “But what’s to keep Sherry from it?”
“That lock on the door, for one thing,” Sam said. “And the fact that the first step out of here will be twenty thousand feet down.”
Clint closed his eyes and rubbed them roughly. He hated the look he could still see in her eyes, the look that said, “I loathe you and I’m afraid of you and I’ll do anything in my power to be away from you.” He hated that she didn’t trust him enough to believe him when he said they were in danger, not from each other, but from someone else. But how could she trust him?
“I’m not gonna hurt you.”,
“You already have.”
Her words raged in his mind, until he wanted to throw in the towel and walk out into the line of fire and die. She was all that kept him from it, all that had for eight long, agonizing months.
“We need to keep them separated so they don’t cook anything else up,” Clint said in a distant voice. “I’ll ride in the back with her.”
Sam surveyed the pensive lines etching Clint’s face. “All right, I’ll stay with her.”
Color rushed back into Madeline’s cheeks. “I’m not riding with you. I want to stay with Sherry. We’re not going to try anything.”
“Of course you’re not,” Sam said. “You got it all out of your systems, and now you’re just as happy as a lark to go along with us. You’re staying where you are.”
When Sam reached for her seat belt to hook her in, Madeline jerked it away from him and did it herself.
As Clint took his seat beside Sherry, Sam began humming the tune to “Let It Be.”
The pilot began to pull down the small runway, and Sherry braced herself. She pulled her feet up onto the edge of her seat and wrapped her trembling arms around her knees. How long would they be in this plane? How far would it take them? She tried to calculate how long it might take for someone to realize she and Madeline were missing. Would Wes realize it today and call the police, or would it take several days? He was so busy with Laney and the kids these days, not to mention his demanding work schedule, that she feared her absence might take too long to notice. Would her father notice, or would he assume she was just busy or depressed, and leave her alone?
But someone at Promised Land would surely notice that Madeline hadn’t shown up in the animation studio. Her managers—Andi or Justin—would surely report her disappearance. Wouldn’t they?
Clint kept looking at her. Angry, she asked, “Why don’t you sit someplace else?”
“There aren’t that many other places to sit.”
“You could sit with the pilot.”
“She doesn’t need my help,” he said. “She’s used to piloting a DC10. This one is a piece of cake.”
“You could sit up there, anyway. I don’t want you near me.”
“Too bad.”
The plane began to pick up speed, bumping and jerking over potholes and rocks.
“Brace yourselves, guys,” Erin called out. “It’s a rough runway.” Finally, they lifted off.
Clint looked over at Sherry. “You okay?”
“Depends. Can she really fly?”
“Of course she can. She’s a commercial pilot.”
“Among other things, apparently. Looks like you’ve picked up a lot of new friends since you left me. Has Erin been with you all this time?”
“Only when I’ve needed a pilot.”
She thought that over for a moment. “You must be making more money than you did as a youth minister.”
“I’m not paying for this, Sherry.”
“Then who is? Some drug lord?”
He gaped at her, hurt. “You really think I’d be on the payroll of a drug lord? You really believe that?”
“I’d believe anything about you, Clint. Nothing would surprise me anymore.”
The admission stung him. Angry, he unhooked his belt and moved to the front seat next to Erin. Sherry said
nothing as he settled in.
For a while, she watched out the window, trying desperately to gauge where they were going. But all she could see were clouds and small squares of land, and miles and miles of trees. After a while, the clouds grew thicker, and she wasn’t able to see anything below them.
Her eyes drifted back to Clint, sitting next to Erin, staring dismally into space. Some irrational part of her wished he hadn’t moved, that he had stayed here beside her. But that wish made her angry. Her memories tugged up tender feelings, but those memories had no basis in truth. Somehow, she had to keep remembering that.
She was surprised when she felt the plane descending, and she looked out again, expecting to see an airport. All she saw, instead, was a forest of trees below them.
They touched down, and she realized that they had landed on another airstrip out in the middle of nowhere. She closed her eyes and breathed a prayer that God would go with them and protect her from whatever Clint and his new friends had in store for them.
The plane rolled to a stop, and she watched as he and Sam opened the door to the plane and got off. Sherry quickly unhooked her belt and leaned up to Madeline. Erin shifted in her seat to watch them.
Madeline had her leg propped on the seat next to her, but she seemed more worried about Sherry. “Are you okay?”
Sherry shrugged. “Yeah, how about you?”
“Fine except for this,” she said, pointing to her knee. “Sam actually seems like a decent guy.”
Sherry started to protest, but Erin said, “He is a decent guy. They both are. The best.”
Sherry and Madeline both looked up at her.
“Are you aware that they kidnapped us?” Madeline asked.
“It was for your own safety,” Erin said. “Trust them.”
“Don’t listen to her,” Sherry said. “She’s in with them.”
“Not really,” Erin said. “I’m actually a full-time pilot for an airline. I only do these flights on a case-by-case basis. I’ve only flown them around a couple of times, but I can tell you that you have nothing to fear. They won’t hurt you.”