Chapter Twelve: Derek

 

 

Right before he turned the bend that would bring him into direct view of the cabin, Derek cut away from the driveway into the woods.

Getting close to the cabin was going to be hard.

Damn it, Keegan, at times like this, it'd be so much more convenient if you were the kind of sloppy homeowner who lets the trees and brush grow right up around the place. Good job keeping it clear. Now there's no way to get close without being seen.

But he could think of one way: the spring. It was in a little ravine with some brush growing alongside it. He would've preferred better cover, but he didn't dare wait for dark.

He circled the cabin in the woods, trying to stay downwind. He wasn't sure if Ghost would be able to smell him from inside, but there was no sense taking chances.

It was quiet enough out here that he could still hear the growl of the Mustang's engine, which meant Ghost could probably hear it too. He'd know they were near. But Derek didn't want to risk having Gaby shut it off. There wasn't a big chance it wouldn't start again—he kept the car in excellent repair—but when their lives depended on it, any risk was too much.

He didn't want to get close enough to be seen, but he took the gamble of peeking out of the woods, between two tree trunks, trying to get a look at the cabin and figure out what he was up against. It looked just like they'd left it. There was no vehicle parked out front. But if Ghost had come through the woods, there wouldn't be.

For an instant, he thought he saw something move in the cupola.

Damn. He was right. Ghost was up there with a sniper rifle. No matter which direction Derek approached from, he'd be seen.

He needed a distraction to give him a chance to sneak up on the cabin. He wished he could get in touch with Gaby and have her do something—but, no, that would draw Ghost's attention in her direction, which was the last thing he wanted right now.

Keegan was sending backup, but it would take hours to get here. Luisa might not be able to wait that long.

Ghost's deadfall trap gave him an idea. Two could play at that game.

He let the woods conceal his view of the cabin again, retreating until he was confident he couldn't be seen. After stripping quickly, he shifted. The strength and energy of his bear surged through him.

He didn't have a chainsaw—but he didn't need a chainsaw.

There were a lot of smallish trees around here. Derek picked a likely one, stood on his back legs, and pushed. The tree's roots were no match for the power of his muscular bear shoulders. It tore slowly out of the ground, started to topple, and hung up in the branches of the tree next to it.

Derek shifted and stepped back to look at his handiwork. The leaning tree was just barely hanging on. It looked like a stiff breeze would send it crashing down.

He didn't bother putting on his clothes. He was probably going to end up shifting again anyway. He picked up his Glock and gave the tree a final shove, making it teeter on its supporting branches.

Then he hurried through the woods on bare, silent human feet. In a few moments he came to the spring, with the trail alongside it that he and Gaby had explored that morning. Derek turned toward the cabin. All the while he strained his ears. When the tree went, it should get Ghost's attention, but his instant of distraction wouldn't last long.

Sunlight up ahead let him know he was getting close to the cabin. Derek stepped into the spring, cool water swirling over his bare feet, and crouched so the bank would hide him from view. He made his way cautiously along the bank to the point where the trail from the cabin came down to the water's edge. If he put his head up, he'd only be a few yards from the back of the cabin—and easily visible from up top.

A breeze swirled over him and rattled the bushes. Come on, Derek thought impatiently. Blow over, you damn tree.

He'd told Gaby to leave in half an hour. Derek's time sense told him that only a few minutes had passed, but each additional minute crawled by at glacial speed as he crouched with twigs prickling his bare skin, tense as a coiled spring.

Then came the sound he'd been waiting for, the welcome crackle of branches breaking in the woods—he was so on edge by now that even expecting it, he still jumped—followed by the tremendous crash of a tree going over.

Derek jumped over the edge of the bank and dashed for the cabin.

He was only exposed for a few seconds, but every instant he expected to feel the hot graze of a bullet. None came. He reached the back of the cabin and ducked below the nearest windowsill.

The cupola offered a commanding view of the surrounding woods and the clearing surrounding the cabin, but its blind spot was straight down, where the roof blocked the view. Derek figured that he had a few feet around the cabin in every direction where he could move unseen.

He listened for a minute and, hearing nothing, straightened up enough to take a quick peek into the cabin. This was the window through which he'd watched Gaby and Sandy playing in the spring this morning. He caught a glimpse of the living room, looking just like it had when they'd left. No sign of Luisa, though she might be lying down on the couch, tied up and out of his view.

He ducked again and moved stealthily along the cabin wall to the next window, which belonged to one of the bedrooms. It was an opening window, cracked open a few inches to let in a breeze. Derek did the same maneuver, listening and then straightening up for a glance inside.

This time, he hit the jackpot. Luisa was tied up on the bed.

Anger surged through him. She was only an old woman with bad hips. Seeing her lying helpless on the bed, with her hands tied behind her and a handkerchief knotted around her mouth as a gag, sent his protective instincts towards Gaby's family surging into overdrive.

But she didn't look like she'd been hurt. He saw no bruises on her face. Her eyes were open, and she turned her head suddenly, having glimpsed Derek moving at the window.

Derek held his finger to his lips. Luisa nodded.

The window was the crank-opening kind, with a screen over it. Derek carefully and quietly popped the screen out of its frame and lowered it to the ground. Then he tried to work his hand inside to reach the crank. It wasn't open far enough; he couldn't get his hand that far inside.

As a bear, he could rip it right out of the wall, but that'd bring Ghost down in a hurry.

Movement on the bed made him look over at Luisa. She'd struggled to a sitting position, then swung her bound-together legs off the bed.

Derek shook his head at her. She'd not only risk getting hurt if she fell, but Ghost would hear it and come to investigate.

Luisa shook her head back at him, and very carefully, resting her back against the nightstand and then the wall, she shuffled over to the window.

Derek pointed to the crank and whispered, "Can you reach it?"

Luisa shuffled cautiously over to it. Immediately Derek could see that she wasn't going to be able to. She was short, and it was too high to reach with her hands bound at that awkward angle behind her back. When she tried to bend forward to get her hands higher, she nearly overbalanced and toppled on her face. Derek caught his breath and gripped the edge of the window, prepared to shift and rip it open in case he had to come in fighting, but Luisa managed to recover her balance and leaned against the wall, looking shaken.

Derek pointed to her hands and beckoned her to him.

She still looked shaky, but he saw her face firm up with determination—it was such a characteristic Gaby-like expression—and she shuffled over to the open corner of the window. Derek pushed his hand through the gap between the window and its frame, but again, he couldn't reach. Her hands were too far down to untie.

And his knife was back in the woods with his clothes.

Well, there was another option.

"Luisa," he whispered. "Close your eyes. Stand still. And whatever happens, don't make a sound."

The look she gave him over his shoulder was perplexed, but she obediently screwed her eyes shut.

Derek shifted.

The world seemed suddenly smaller, the window flimsier. His bear wanted to fight. It didn't understand all this sneaking around.

First we get the hostage out, Derek told it firmly. Then we fight.

His bear was okay with that. It wanted Luisa safe, too.

Derek hooked the edge of his massive paw into the gap between the window and its frame. The window groaned in protest as he carefully snagged the rope with two huge, scimitar-curved claws. It took a couple of tugs and he winced as he saw the rope bite into Luisa's wrists, but then the rope snapped under his claws' sharp edge.

Better than a knife ... at least for some things.

Derek shifted back, his claws shrinking to human fingers curled over the window's edge. He looked up—and straight into Luisa's startled, dark eyes as she looked over her shoulder at him.

"I told you not to look!" he whispered. If she panicked, he'd not only have Ghost to deal with, but also a civilian who would be equally terrified of both of them.

Luisa flexed her hands and untied the gag, making a face as she pulled it out of her mouth. "Ugh. Much better. Are you a bear who turns into a man, or a man who turns into a bear?"

"Uh ... the second one."

"I'm glad to hear that. Much better for my daughter." She cranked the window, opening it as wide as it would go. Derek climbed inside. "Are Gaby and Alejo all right?"

"They're fine. They're waiting in my car, down the road a ways."

"Oh, thank God." She looked at him thoughtfully. "I assume that it is easier to turn into a bear with no clothes on."

"Right," he said, and before that line of discussion could go any further: "Where's Ghost?"

"Upstairs." Luisa pointed to the ceiling.

"Does he have a gun?"

She nodded. "A very large rifle."

As expected. Ghost's sniper skills had always been sharp. "Okay, what you need to do is get to the car, while I distract Ghost. I'm guessing you can't run."

Luisa sighed. "When I was a girl, I won every footrace. Now, I can't even walk down the street without my daughter nagging me about using my walker."

"Look at it this way: you couldn't outrun a bear anyway." Or a bullet.

Her eyes went wide. "This Ghost is like you? A bear-man?"

"Yes. He's the polar bear you saw earlier, at your apartment building." As she sucked in her breath to speak, Derek shook his head. "Save it for later. Right now we need to get out. Do you think you can make it from the cabin to the edge of the woods without using your walker? On this uneven ground, it'd probably slow you down."

"I will," Luisa said.

And she would, too. He was definitely seeing where Gaby got her grit from.

"Okay," he said softly. "Stay with me."

Gun in hand, with Luisa limping at his heels, he ventured out into the living room to the point where he could get a look up into the loft. There was no sign of Ghost. He had to be up in the cupola.

Leaning close to Luisa, Derek murmured, "As soon as I start up the stairs, go out the door onto the porch, wait for a count of ten, then head for the woods. Gaby is waiting for you in the driveway, right around the corner. Don't stop or turn back for anything."

Luisa nodded without speaking.

Once he'd seen Luisa start for the door, Derek went up the stairs, stealthy in his bare feet, counting under his breath. At ten, Luisa would head across the yard. At ten, Ghost needed to be distracted.

Nine ...

Derek threw the door open and flung himself into the upstairs bedroom. "Hey! Asshole!"

The rifle crashed.