Dark thoughts circledme like hungry vultures as I tried to stay focused on the mission at hand.
Why would Jeremiah have taken Kitten in the first place? It was a small rig for one person, much less two, so why go through the trouble of potentially burning bridges with one of your best clients? Unless Jeremiah intended to harm Kitten, then destroy any evidence. Or sell him to raiders.
My thoughts soon dissolved into bloody fantasies of hacking off Jeremiah’s limbs with my machete.
But there was also the possibility that Kitten had been chased away by Rabids and gotten lost somewhere in the woods. If so, I had to count on Larry’s search party to find him.
Either way, the clock was ticking.
The only advantage as far as I could tell, was that if Kittenwaswith Jeremiah, then I had a good chance of finding them, eventually. The trail that the rig left behind was obvious, which meant I didn’t need to linger, hunting for clues.
I had to believe Kitten was alive and well. Finding people was what I did. That determination alone kept me from being swallowed by my own misery as I moved through the forest at a fast clip. Alert for Rabid activity or any other threats that might present themselves, I ignored the pain in my leg and the feverish tremors that overtook me, the nausea at my anxiety at Kitten’s well-being as well as the grief over what I might encounter when I found him, all of it made ten times worse by the withdrawal from these fucking drugs.
I had to get this shit out of my system.
I radioed in to the Assholes, Macon specifically. “Any sign of him?” I asked tersely.
“Nope, not yet. You?”
“Nothing.”
“Keep at it. We’ll find him,” Macon said, but he wasn’t convincing me of anything.
“Roger that.”
I stuffed Kitten’s shirt against my nose and inhaled deeply, my eyes stinging from all the mistakes I’d made, with his heart and more recently, his safety. I’d let this happen. What if I never got to see his gorgeous smile again? What if I never got to hold him in my arms? What if something truly terrible had happened to him?
Stop that. It’s not helping.
I’d find him, and when I did, I’d handle whoever or whatever had taken him from me. I patted my gun at my hip, having resurrected it from its grave along with my ammo before setting off. I had enough water to last a couple of days and iodine pills to purify more. The Assholes had given me whatever food they’d had on them, which was enough. Now, all I had to do was stay the course.
But if Jeremiah took his rig onto the highway, Kitten might be lost to me forever.Fuck.I just had to count on the fact that he hadn’t done that, not yet, which meant every second was precious.
Rather than continue to spiral, I focused on the path ahead of me. I had enough pain pills to do myself in, if it came to that. Or I could put a bullet through my head. The thought was a comfort; it offered me the illusion of control, a way to escape my own guilt and grief. If something terrible had happened to Kitten, I’d avenge him, and then I’d follow my sister into the yawning abyss. Even nothing was better than this.
Until then, I’d fight.
EIGHTEEN
KITTEN
I managedto sever the ropes around my wrists and ankles and make it look like I was still bound when Jeremiah came to collect me hours later. It was nearing sunset, which was good for hiding but bad for Rabids. Should I stab him? To death? I still hadn’t decided, but I had the knife in my hands, hidden between my legs, and as Cipher would say, I had the element of surprise.
“You didn’t eat anything,” Jeremiah said, noticing the food he’d left me was untouched. I’d drank the water but left the jerky. Until I was sure he wasn’t eating humans, I wasn’t going to risk it.
“I wasn’t hungry,” I said, partly true. My stomach was in knots and my guts were cramping. I didn’t have to fake my apprehension as I waited for him to unlock the padlock and remove the chains from my cage. Despite my heart rabbiting in my chest, I needed to be in control. I had to time it just right or he’d simply slam the door shut. Bent over, he was already off-balance, so when the door swung open, I darted forward with my knife aimed at his gut just like Cipher had taught me.
But Jeremiah turned at the last moment and struck my wrist so hard that pain ricocheted up my arm and jolted my shoulder. The knife went skittering across the hood of the Humvee, landing somewhere on the other side. The fury on his face was palpable as he lunged for me. I twisted away, my shirt ripping in the process, then swung myself over the side of the vehicle, not bothering with the ladder. I came down hard on my ankles, pain shooting up both my legs. My head was dizzy and my limbs were sore from being bound, but I found my footing to be solid, so I ran.
I sprinted barefoot through the forest while Jeremiah cursed and grunted behind me, his thunderous footfalls chasing after me. Sticks and thorns tore at my legs and bare feet; branches clawed at my face. I was quick, but my breathing was already coming too fast and too shallow, and I’d seen Jeremiah move–he was agile despite his bulk–which meant I wouldn’t be able to outrun him for long. I’d need to find a place to hide. Run and hide was what Cipher had always said was my best strategy.
I scanned the forest surrounding me, darting here and there, cutting an erratic path through the trees in my effort to lose him. Dusk was falling, making it harder to make out the shapes of things in the dying light. If I could just find a good place to hunker down for the night, I might survive Jeremiah and the Rabids until morning.
There, a tree with a hollow trunk that wasn’t so obvious. I dropped to my knees and crawled on all fours to wedge myself inside. The ground dipped by about six inches or so, which allowed me to crouch down low and stay mostly hidden by the underbrush. I prayed I hadn’t disturbed some animal’s home, then set about covering the opening with pine needles and sticks that were littered nearby. I stopped when I heard Jeremiah’s mocking voice calling my name.
“Oh Josh-u-a,” he said in a sing-song way. “The Rabids will be coming out to play soon, and I promise you, they are much meaner than me.”
I shivered, bone cold despite my mad dash through the forest. Was he right?
