Disclaimer etc, see chapter 1:
Somewhere, sometime
The moment she had dreading, but also waiting for in a way, had finally come as the steel door was pushed open and two masked, armed men entered. She and Danny were yanked to their feet, and the duct tape around her ankles was ripped off. They were blindfolded and let out of the room. After a brief trip outside, they were pushed into what was presumably a large car or van.
The ride was short, but bumpy. Every little snag in the road sent pain through her lower arm. She couldn't see anything through the blindfold. Whether it was the lack of sight or not, the ride was making her nauseous. After what seemed like an hour, the car came to a sudden halt, and they were forced outside. It was cold. The weather was closer to winter than fall. A cool wind was blowing. The blindfold was taken off.
They were on a dirt road in the middle of a forest. A masked man with a semi-automatic had his weapon trained on them. Without saying a word, he started walking them out into the deeply wooded underbrush.
Even though they outnumbered him, there was no way out of this. With a semi-automatic,
he could shot several bullets into them if they even tried to make a move. They
stumbled forward until the dirt road was well out of sight.
"Stop," the voice behind her ordered.
"On your knees." The command was immediately followed by a kick to the back of her legs, causing her to fall over, and she was subsequently jacked up into a kneeling position
Sam took a deep breath. This was it, the final stop on the train of life where all passengers must disembark. This wasn't supposed to happen. It was just wrong. It could happen, that was part of the job, but no one ever believed that they could end up at the receiving end of a bullet, Even those who had been face to face with a gun didn't truly believe that they would be killed on the job. Even she who had taken a bullet before had still deluded herself thinking that it wouldn't happen to her. It was pure self-protection, otherwise none of them would be able to do their jobs.
But now she was here, kneeling in the dirt, about to be shot in the head. Execution style, law enforcement called it. She had seen it; it happened to drug dealers and those affiliated with organized crime. A technical, dispassionate killing. Quick. There were worse ways to go. It was at least quick. She shot Danny a last look. His eyes were downcast. What was running through his mind now? she wondered.
Too cool wind sent a chill down her neck. The tension became unbearable to wait as the end was coming to its cold finale. Suddenly, the tension broke, tree heads spun in the direction where there was suddenly the distinct sound of a motor vehicle. Then all hell broke loose.
A shout, a shot -- she hit the hard ground -- then, another shot. She wasn't dead. The trees and the grey sky above her were the most beautiful sight ever. She looked to her side and there it was. The semi-automatic was lying only two feet away from her. Time slowed down as she pushed herself towards the gun. Her fingers touched the metal, and she gripped the weapon tightly with her good hand. What if she hit Danny? What if she messed up again? She had to try. It was her only chance to get out alive. She couldn't afford not to try. She rolled over, the sharp pain in her arm taking her breath away.
All her fears had been in vain; it was easy this time. In spite of hunger, fatigue and pain, all she could see was the target. She pulled the trigger and a shot rang out as her assailant dropped to the ground. She let go of the gun and sat up, then helped Danny up to his feet. He was dazed, but conscious. Blood was staining his tattered shirt. The new stain was spreading fast over his shoulder area. Danny was clutching his shoulder with his good hand, groaning in pain as she helped him to his feet.
Sam's heart sank. This was bad. She doubted that the bleeding would stop on its own. They shared a look, both clear about their situation. They had no time to lose, and they had to cover as much ground as possible. When their would-be assassin failed to return, the alarm bells would go off, and most likely someone would come after them. They had to cover as much ground as possible before anyone knew that they had not been killed as planned. Sam was about to set off in the direction they had come from when Danny stopped her.
"We can't go there. There's no road, just a dirt track. The drive wasn't enough for it to have been a road. There is no way out. They would be on us in a matter of minutes."
"You're right," she conceded, "but we won't get away very fast here. "
"We have to try."
And they started to make their way through the forest, despite the cold weather and the rugged terrain and their injuries slowing them down. Nightfall wasn't far way, but after that, it would get even colder and harder.
Sam kept to the pace that Danny dictated. She noticed that they were slowing down, and pauses becoming more frequent. Her arm was throbbing, and her headache was making her sick, but she wasn't at the end of her strength yet.
They had been going maybe two hours when night fell, and they soon felt the change in temperature. Sam pushed her good hand into the pocket of her pants, but her fingers were soon numb with cold. In spite of the physical activity, the cold was getting to her. Their pace had dropped down to a slow stumbling through the woods, punctured by the frequent pauses.
Suddenly, they stepped out of the woods and onto a clearing. Had it not been for their dire situation, the scene would have been one of extraordinary natural beauty.
"We'd best take a break," Sam said, trying to catch her breath. She eased herself down onto a fallen tree. Her arm was throbbing mercilessly. Every breath hurt.
Neither of them spoke as they rested. Both were wrapped up in their thoughts. They knew the truth. Their chances were slim. It had been days, if not much longer, since their disappearance. The memories of what had happened before their underground prison were vague. It was like they were just beyond her grasp. But she couldn't afford to worry about them now.
First they had to get to civilization and get help. The rest wasn't important now. There was no telling how far they had been transported after being ambushed. Even if the FBI had covered this area in their search, any search parties had been called off long ago. It could be dozens of miles to the next road, and without directions, it was like playing Russian roulette. It was bitter irony: they had escaped from a hopeless situation, and yet, their chances were still minimal.
Sam glanced over at Danny. He wasn't in good shape. He was resting his head on his knees, eyes closed. His head injury was still causing him trouble. This was more than a simple concussion. It was getting worse, not better. He had tried hard to keep up, but he couldn't hide his troubles with coordination. He wouldn't be able to keep going as long as she. He was going to need help soon. Sam bit her lip. There was nothing she could do about it. She herself was running on borrowed time.
She'd give him ten more minutes before she woke him up.
"Danny!" He didn't respond and she grew worried. She nudged his good shoulder, but got no reaction. She pushed him harder and finally Danny reacted.
"Mhmm. Samantha?" Danny seemed confused.
"You dozed off. We need to get going; we're still too close. We should try to reach a road by morning." She let the assumption pass unmentioned.
"Ohh, sorry." Worry replaced confusion on Danny's features.
"How long…?"
""Just a few minutes. But we need to get going again. I think we're far away now, but it's better if we cover some more ground during the night," Samantha urged.
"Yeah." Danny sat up.
It didn't look good, Sam could see that, but she didn't know what to do with it. The rules of survival dictated that if she went ahead alone, she was in far better shape, and depending on the terrain, she might have a chance to reach a road if there was one in the vicinity. Danny could hardly walk and might not even make it till morning. But she couldn't do it. Human conditioning versus survival instinct. Amidst all the cruelty she had witnessed and been subjected to, humanity still won out in her. Maybe it won out because of all that.
"Listen, Sam. " Danny broke her concentration. "I think it'd be best if we split up, go in different directions." His breathing was becoming rapid just from the effort.
"I agree." He didn't need to say it -- they both knew the truth-- but she was glad that Danny had made the proposition. She wasn't sure that she could have done it.
"We need to get going," Danny said, trying to get to his feet. Sam finally helped him. They shared a silent look.
"Thanks. Take care."
"You too."
No tearful goodbyes, just two friends knowing that they were about to face the end. They headed off into the woods.
Sam tried to pace herself, keeping her direction steady, trying to conserve her strength by pausing frequently. The cold was biting her face, but after a while, she hardly felt it anymore. She entered into the surreal state where the night seemed to go on forever. Without a watch, her sense of time was gone. She hardly felt the cold anymore; the woods at morphed into a dark mass, but she wasn't afraid anymore. Her thoughts had taken on a life of her own, taking her away from the dark and painful world.
She hardly noticed when she fell. Suddenly, she was down on her knees and hands, having tripped over a root. She tried to get up, but couldn't. Her muscles wouldn't cooperate with her brain. She sat back on her ankles, planning on taking a break to catch her breath. She was feeling tired. More tired than she had ever felt. Sleep was becoming more than appealing, and the knowledge of her circumstances was no longer important. It ceased to matter. It was game over for her. Screwed up on all fronts. Her personal life hardly existed, she had screwed up her professional life and now she was dying in some remote forest. A fitting end for an FBI agent, she thought, cynically. Being killed in the line of duty was one thing, but this was laughable.
She was finished. No one even knew she was alive. If she was lucky, her body would one day be found by hunters. In that moment, she gave up. It was too much of a physical and emotional toll. She knew she wasn't going to get up again.
Danny…she knew she shouldn't have listed to him. She doubted he'd made it that far. She shouldn't have split up. It had been a bad idea. But it had been the only option available to them, she rationalized. At any rate, now it was far too late to second-guess decisions or have regrets. There was no point; it was too late to change anything, it was too late to make amends, it was too late for everything.
She had few regrets, but she did regret not being able to see the people that mattered to her again. She didn't get along with her mother. They had been at odds since her teens, but still, she wouldn't have minded to see her again -- to talk to her, to try to leave things on a friendlier note.
In spite of all the mistakes that had been made on this case, she felt the need to see all of them again. What had happened to Martin? She'd never know whether he was going to be all right. She would never been able to apologize to him, tell him that she was sorry that she hadn't been able to do more.
Jack. She didn't care what mistakes he had made. She had been mad at him during the long hours in the prison, and her thoughts had often returned to his actions, trying to find answers. She had been angry at him for getting them into this mess, for blindly stepping right into a trap. But there was no point in anger anymore. She just regretted not to be able to say good-bye to him. She wanted to touch him a last time. The memory of their special moments together brought a faint smile to her face. Good times. Their relationship, as perilous as it had been, had given them advantages over more committed, permissible relationships. They had never shared a routine; she had no memories of grey moments fights over daily life minutia. They only had special moments, albeit few, but they stood out in her memory, and were worth every second of pretending at the office.
She pulled her knees up to her chest, curling up as tightly as she could. She put her head on her knees, willing herself away from this place. Her mind readily complied, fed up with horrors of this world.
Warm and colourful images started forming in her mind, morphing into a dream, a wonderful endless dream.
Something pulled her away from the dream. A noise. She listed, but heard nothing. But there it was again. Motor noise. A car -- it was coming from her left.
The prospect of being so close to a street gave her new energy. Her body was drained, but determination allowed her to push forward. Every meter seemed to have stretched to the length of a football field, but she pushed on. She fell several times, but got up again -- the thought of the road being the only one on her mind. She kept going in the direction where she had heard the cars. Finally she reached the shoulder of a road. Not a highway, but still, two lanes. That meant her chances were good that another car would pass soon.
Less than five minutes later, she heard the sound of a vehicle approaching, and soon after, the lights were shining around the bend in the road. A dark SUV approached on the road, crawling slowly as it appeared. Sam stepped onto the road, desperate to draw attention to herself. It worked -- brakes screeched, the car rolled another few feet and then came to an abrupt halt.
"What the hell…" The driver was infuriated and came climbing out, but the fury on his face was replaced by shock when he saw her. He stopped dead in his tracks.
"Are you hurt?" he asked, as he carefully approached her.
Sam suddenly felt unsteady, as the adrenaline rush that had kept her going so far was waning.
"Please call an ambulance." She struggled with the words, as her mouth and tongue seemed sluggish to comply. The man was now standing directly in front of her, grabbing her by the elbow. Fear shot through her; what if she hadn't manage to elude her captors after all, what if they were still looking. Rational thought took over as the man reached for his cell phone and did as she had asked.
It all seemed to happen so fast, she couldn't quite keep up with it. One minute the guy was parking his car on the shoulder, then suddenly she was sitting in the back seat and he was back with his first aid kit and a blanket.
"Here you go. I've called 911. They are going to be here in half an hour." He draped the blanket over her shoulders.
"Thank you. Can I use the phone? I need to call the police."
"Sure." He handed her the phone.
Her hands were shaking, but on the second try, she managed to dial the number of the New York FBI office. That would get Danny help faster than calling the local police. She gave them her name and badge number, but when they asked where she was, she realized that she had no idea.
"Hold on." She turned her the driver whose name she still didn't know. "Excuse me -- can you tell me where we are?
"Yeah, about eighty miles north of Bryson City. How did you get out here?"
She gave them her location, and was told that they would get in touch with local law enforcement immediately.
"Thank you." She handed back the phone, suddenly feeling incredibly cold. She drew the blanket closer and wrapped her arms around herself. She was tired, and she felt like she hadn't slept in days. In fact, she had no idea how long it had been since they had been walked out of their cellar prison. It had been day when they had walked her and Danny out into the woods, but night had fallen quickly. It was still night. Thinking made her head hurt; she didn't really care how long it had been. All she wanted was sleep, but there was something that wouldn't let her rest, the feeling that she was forgetting something important dragged her back every time she was about to drift off. She couldn't find out -- it was there but she couldn't remember it.
