(Violence warning in this chapter. Again, nothing too grusome, but this is just a warning)
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Cody was frustrated beyond words. He, Matt and the other rangers had been working in tandem with the Sheriffs department since just after seven a.m. A prisoner transport bus had blown a tire and slid off the road. It was carrying six prisoners and two were dead along with the driver and the two guards. Three had sustained severe injuries but the one that they had really worried about, the serial killer, was unaccounted for, manacles and all. The rain had wiped out any chance to following any type of trail and even the two Hawkes brothers were at a loss, unable to do much past the bus.
So a massive manhunt had begun in the rain that came and went. By mid-day it had become just a drizzle but it was the type that soaked into everything and it was cold. There was snow in the higher elevations. Dogs were brought in, choppers and all personnel that could be spared. Cody had stayed at the station last night due to it being his turn to man the radio and phones. They hadn't even had a chance to call the hospital before they took off to see how Gunny was doing.
As the day wore on into the early evening hours, he touch base with Matt and finally admitted to him that he had one of those feelings that was telling him something wasn't right with this search…as if they were looking for something that no longer existed or that they were wasting their time. Matt nodded in agreement but still knew they had a job and a duty to try and find this killer. But they both had a bad feeling about it and it only seemed to grow worse as the day wore on into evening.
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Crane watched as Max got the nurse into a chair, taped her arms and legs to the chair, then taped her mouth shut. He went over to the door and locked it, taping a towel over the glass. The whole time, Crane was assessing how much pain she was in and if she could actually get out of bed to go after this guy. While he had his back turned with the towel, she reached carefully over to the clipboard that was on the table with her water and slipped the pen out of the holder. She tucked it in next to her under the sheets and remained still.
When Max came back over to her, he was gloating with a wicked smile on his face. He pulled up a chair and sat next to her bed. "My my…don't you look terrible!" he stated with a sneer. "Looks like you got raked over the coals pretty badly…or was it granite cliffs…can't remember."
Crane simply remained quiet, feigning exhaustion. She kept trying to close her eyes, only to jerk them awake again. Max could only smile in her direction as he saw her struggling to stay awake. "Oh, did I wake you? Well I'm sure it'll be worth it so stay with me for awhile. I couldn't believe how easy it was to walk right in here. Of course, everyone is looking for the escaped convict…some serial killer. Of course, they won't find him cause I took care of that. Didn't need them finding him too soon. I wanted to make sure I had plenty of time alone with you sweetie."
Cranes eyes flicked over to the nurse whose eyes grew a little wider, realizing he was right. Everyone was up on the mountain, looking for a convict that apparently was now dead but no one knew…they were still looking for a live man. She looked back at Max, saying nothing. It would be up to her to get them out of this. She wasn't as helpless as she was pretending to be. She closed her eyes and looked like she drifted back off to sleep but the gun shoved into her shoulder wound again caused her eyes to fly open.
"Naughty naughty. No sleeping on the job. You fall asleep again and I might have to cut a finger off this fine nurse here. Every time you fall asleep, she'll loose another one." He said. "This is your one free pass." He said with a smirk. "And I know how hard it is to stay awake when you're doped up on painkillers. With as much pain as I'm sure you're in, you must be on some heavy stuff."
Max was acting confident as if he was sure he had complete control over a woman who was injured, doped up and so exhausted that she kept trying to fall asleep even in the face of the danger she was in. She could only hope that if he didn't feel threatened by her, he might not consider strapping her hands down. Max didn't always prove to be the smart one. The one that died in prison was the true brains of the operation. Max was more of the muscle that occasionally had a decent idea spark between his two remaining brain cells.
She looked at him with a bit of a blank stare. When she spoke, her words were slurred a little, "Whatttt…you want …Max?" she said, as if working to get a bit more breath.
Max looked at her for a moment, "To end this. With you dead, I can be free. This ghost of yours that follows me around, I want it gone. It stares at me with hollow eyes and they don't see anything. If I kill you, the ghost will go away and I can begin to live again."
She tried to puzzle out in her head what the hell he was talking about but being unable to do that, she kept up the charade. "How're you gunna kill me ….if it's a ghost…wont' it add another one…to it?" she asked, her eyes 'growing heavy' as she struggled to stay awake.
Max took her wounded hand and pulled it to him. She didn't resist as she gave a bodily shudder he could feel. He pulled out a scalpel knife. "That's why you won't go violently. With as much pain meds they got you on, this won't hurt too much. You'll slip slowly away as you fall asleep." He turned her hand over to expose her wrist.
Her insides tensed but she remained playing this game and smirked, "But…you just said that…if I fall asleep, you'll cut off one of the nursesssss fingers." She slurred. "If you make me go to sleep…that's not fair to her." She tried to reason.
Max could only smile at her as he looked over at the nurse. "Well I'll make sure that when you go to sleep for the last time, she'll be treated well. I won't cut any of those pretty fingers off." He said with a slight maniacal chuckle. It was the type of laugh one heard during horror movies from the insane killer chasing after some ditzy chick on screen.
While he was turned away from her, her hand slipped to grip the pen in her fist. She moved it farther to the edge of the blanket. Max looked back at her. "So, any last words you want me to pass along that I can write in your blood or perhaps something for your gravestone?"
Crane 'jerked' awake again, "No…Just wanna sleep." she said, almost sounding like she was begging to be released.
Max's eyes seemed on be set on fire as he turned his focus to her wrist, "This'll only hurt for a second sweetie then you can sleep." He said as he put the knife to her wrist.
She could hear the nurse scream behind the tape as things seemed to slow to the second. As he began to cut, she pulled her hand out from under the covers and stabbed it down on his hand with the knife. She felt it sink into his hand as he screamed aloud. She growled as she flung her arms around him and rolled her body out of bed, tackling him to the floor. IV's and monitors pulled off of her, causing the monitors to topple over.
Max struggled with her but when she got a hold on the penknife with her good hand, she moved her arm sideways trying to slice his face. He got his other hand up in time but she gouged his fingers heavily. He backhanded her, causing her to topple backwards. She groaned in pain as her leg wounds opened up, the stitches tearing.
She was in a fight for her life and the life of the nurse … she couldn't loose. She was in a rage, her subconscious taking over her conscious state, her military training and years of working on the ranch, all the self-defense she'd learned early in life. She did her best to stay on top of him. She beat at him with both fists, ignoring the pain it caused to her left one. She slammed his head again and again into the floor as he tried to get free of her.
He was in a panic, never having encountered or fought someone like her before. He had fought many men before but nothing like this. He realized belatedly that she really had nothing to loose and that her body had survived much worse than what they had just done to her a month ago. She was trained to be a fighter. He was just a smuggler and part time mercenary. He saw stars several times as she slammed his head into the floor.
She found the penknife again and began to stab at him. She continued to yell things at him as she forced him to back peddle further. He almost knocked her off several times but she'd struggle back to the top and beat at him a little more. Finally, she made a swipe at him with the penknife that finished him off. He went to scream from the pain but found the air escaping from the slice in his throat. The floor was quickly becoming sticky with his blood from the major artery she'd also opened up in that strike. He clinically knew he'd be dead in only minutes. She straddled his chest, knees on his arms, keeping him pinned as she watched him bleed out.
Part of her mind screamed that she was doing something wrong, but the animalistic side of her knew she had done what needed to be done. He needed killin' and she had managed to bring it to an end. Her adrenaline was pumping hard through her veins, making it so that her body ignored the pain that it was in. She continued to watch as his struggles grew less and less. Part of her mind picked up the fact that there was a muffled scream in the background and everything sped back up again.