note to my readers
ms24 has been a constant and faithful reader and reviewer. However ms24 is away for the next few weeks, so if you wish to continue with daily updates, better get reviewing.
no reviews means no updates.
Kim finished going over the details with Maria then joined Angela at the kitchen table. Her head was bent over a drawing and her frown of concentration so reminded Kim of Chase that she had to turn away and blink several times before sitting down to talk with her.
"Sweetie, I'm going to be away for a few days, I'm going to be where they're looking for Daddy, okay?"
Glancing across at Kim, Angela's gaze was solemn, "Mummy, when you find Daddy can you give him my drawing please? It's almost finished."
"I'd be happy to," smiled Kim looking at the picture of the two big dogs. "Can you tell me about the drawing so I can talk about it with Daddy?"
"These are the two wolves that are helping find Daddy in the snow," she explained while she coloured in another tree on the surrounding mountains.
"It's lovely," Kim said as she kissed Angie. What a great imagination she has, she marvelled. "Angie, do you know where Grandpa Jack is?"
Angie looked up with her stubborn look, "He hurt Daddy," she announced firmly as she returned to her drawing, the subject closed.
Packed and ready to go, Kim hugged a tearful Angie who handed over her drawing. Maria had rolled the drawing up inside the cardboard centre of a paper towel roll to keep it uncreased and Kim carefully placed it in her bag. Waving goodbye from the rear of the military car, Kim wondered how long it would be before she saw Angie smile again.
Chase felt the hot breath of the sled dogs panting over him but couldn't summon the strength to turn aside. He heard the distant sound of voices and felt himself being touched, but when they went to lift him up they found he was frozen to the ice. He lost consciousness when they began to pry him off the ice with their ice-axes, and he didn't feel a thing when they slung him up beside their film equipment on the dog sled, pulling a tarp over him roughly.
Blake and Charlie whistled up the dog team and the sled flew across the ice at tremendous speed. They weren't hurrying for the sake of their unexpected find, he seemed dead anyway, but rather for the pure thrill of speed, of action, of progress.
They had travelled down from Canada to film a CBC documentary on a pair of wolves seen in the area and although here for eight days now, they were still to see a wolf. They knew they were here as they had heard their howls and yips in the night. They had filmed some magnificent scenery shots but still no wolves. They hadn't even found tracks of the wolves, until today.
Charlie and Blake hoped their luck had finally changed when they spied the two sets of fresh wolf tracks marked clear and straight across the frozen lake. The tracks were bloody in places and they hoped the dark shadow ahead was a fresh kill. But the wolf tracks lead them instead to a body, before the tracks seemed to simply disappear.
The dogs sensed the excitement in the air and as they were headed back to camp, they ran with added enthusiasm. The husky's joyous barking brought Red out of the main tent to watch their arrival. They had retained his services to act as guide and general help in Truckee. The brothers couldn't agree on how old he might be, their guesses fluctuated daily, but the general range was between 50 and 70. Laconic and knowledgeable, they found him to be a perfect fit to their partnership. The only alteration he had made to the camp routine, after Charlie's turn at breakfast produced burnt French toast, was offering to be sole cook and this the two brothers had accepted gladly.
"Hey Red," Charlie called out, "We found a body out on the ice."
Red felt at the man's neck for a moment, his fingers unable to find a pulse on the cold, stiff form. "Let's bring him inside the tent. And be very gentle, he might not be dead."
"But he's frozen!" exclaimed Blake, "And he's not shivering, he can't still be alive."
"It could be severe hypothermia in which case he could stay like this for some time. Here, put him down gently, his heart could give out if he's treated roughly."
Placing him on a cot, Red used his hunting knife to begin cutting away the man's frozen and bloody clothing. "Charlie, bring the extra sleeping bag, two blankets and that plastic tarp off the sled. Blake, turn up the heat in here and get out the chemical heat packs from the medicine chest. Snap them to activate them and put each one inside a sock. I need, um... seven should do, and extra socks too. We need to strip him off and get him warmed up."
"Hey, wait a minute, I'm not going to do what they do in the movies... you know, lie with him to warm him up, no way man."
Red laughed, "Haven't you noticed it's always the two sexy leads who have to strip off to do that? No, all that will do is seriously chill you. We cocoon him and let his own internal heat bring him back... with a little help. Sonofabitch!" he swore vehemently as he saw Chase's bare legs, the human bites appearing brutal on the pale skin.
"Wow, a sex perv!" exclaimed Charlie, impressed.
Pulling off the man's socks, Red shook his head, "Probably not, look, he's been restrained."
"A sex slave!" Charlie joked, but he stopped laughing when he saw the look on Red's face.
Red continued cutting the clothing away, shocked at the state of the severely emaciated body. The human bite marks, the hands covered in smaller bites, he guessed rats, the restraint marks at wrist and ankle, the two fresh bullet wounds to the shoulder, an old bullet wound to the left hand and a curious thick scar around his left wrist. The body was also marked by many fine lines, as if he had had many skin grafts, his chest marked with deeper scars, perhaps burns, but placed in what appeared to be a deliberate pattern; a sure sign of torture.
Inspecting the bullet wounds, Red saw one shot had passed through the shoulder and seemed to have done little damage apart from heavy bleeding, the other bullet was still inside, lodged under his collar bone. Red knew from personal experience that every movement would be agony until the bullet was removed, and opening his extensive medical chest, he prepared a shot of morphine. Packing the bullet wounds with gauze, they placed the man on an opened sleeping bag with socks covering his hands and feet.
Zipping up the bag, Red pulled the hood over the man's head then fastened it so only his nose and mouth could be seen. Heat packs were placed around the body then he was wrapped in each blanket and then the ground sheet, his mummified form placed on a cot up off the wooden flooring of the tent.
"What now?" asked Blake.
"We wait. He could remain like this for hours, maybe days, or he might be dead. The helicopter is scheduled to fly over tomorrow morning and when they see we haven't put out the all clear flag, they'll land and we can ship him out, then he won't be our problem anymore."
Jack awoke to find himself spread-eagled naked on a mattress, his wrists and ankles cuffed to the metal bedposts. Looking around, he noticed the cabin was far inferior to the one he and Chase had just left. This one had no windows that he could see and there was a dampness to the air. Perhaps they were underground? The air was chilly on his bare skin but he was still covered in a nervous sweat.
Where the hell was Liz? He didn't think for a moment that she had left him to starve like Chase. She might do that later, once she tired of him, but she would be sure to have her fun first.
Craning his neck, he tried to take in all the details, the location of the door, the small kitchen which might hold knives and other weapons, the light switches, the dull hum of the generator. Glancing to his right, he saw the side table with it's neatly aligned sex toys.
Hearing a door bang, he closed his eyes and tried to settle his breathing, the beating of his heart sounding loud in his ears. He had no desire to play her sick games... he'd rather let the bitch think he was still paralysed.
you review, I'll update :)