Dylan
The hairs on the back of my neck stand to attention.
Something is not quite right.
I toss and turn. Darkness is around me, chases me, follows me. I’m running, and yet I’m getting fucking nowhere. It’s so dark, I’m struggling to see anything.
And then I can make out a figure.
Emma.
Emma is ahead of me, urging me on, but it’s no use. Out of nowhere, someone grabs her and takes her away.
She calls my name. She’s yelling my name.
The way she’s yelling has my blood run cold. It’s as if there’s an ice infusion through my veins.
Unfamiliar noises and strange tingling assault my senses. Fucking alarm bells are going off inside my bed, and I bolt upright in bed.
Fuck.
I’m breathing heavily, and it takes me a few seconds to get my bearings. I had been dreaming. I blink rapidly to dispel the images of my fucking nightmare.
Everything’s all right. Emma was safe, nothing to worry about.
Emma. She’s here with me in the cabin. The bad guys can’t touch her. I hope I didn’t wake her with all the wrestling.
Slowly, relief washes over me. I glance beside me and suck in my breath.
Fuck. Emma is not beside me.
Emma.
What the fuck happened to Emma? Did I just sleep through a kidnapping? I doubt it, unless I’d been drugged.
Instinctively, my right hand touches my head. No obvious injury, no blood, no blunt instrument used to knock me out.
So what was going on? Why wasn’t Emma in bed with me? And what were those sounds I could hear from a long way off?
Maybe everything was not all right.
With lightning speed, I jump out of bed and grab some clothes. I put them on as I run downstairs. Just as my foot takes the last step, I can hear her scream my name.
The pitch of her voice tells me something’s wrong. Something’s fucking wrong.
Something else tells me things are not as they seem. Boss is standing in front of the door growling. It’s a deep ferocious growl, the kind that says Don’t enter my fucking territory.
“Dylan!” Emma screams, sounding almost hysterical, and I grab onto her as she stumbles out from my surveillance room.
“They’re coming…four of them…and they’ve got guns…”
It takes me no time at all to put two and two together. From the garbled hysteria, I gather that those bad dudes have found Emma, found us.
Judging by baby bear’s reaction, they must be getting close.
Too fucking close for comfort.
“Boss,” I call the bear and grab Emma. “Down the stairs. Quick.” I command, but she’s not moving.
“Boss,” she calls, and her voice quivers.
We’re fucking wasting valuable time here. Without another word, I run to grab Boss. He’s still growling, and I think I can hear voices.
I practically push Emma down the stairs and pull the latch shut after us. Then I unhook a special thick metal plate door and pull it all the way over before attaching a lock to it.
“That should keep them out,” I observe and scramble down the stairs. The bear is reluctant and hovers at the top.
“Come on, buddy,” I coax him. “Nothing you can do. We’re safe here.”
One look at the monitors confirms the worst of my fears. We’ve been fucking found. If Emma has been trying to tell me there were four guys, she’s right.
Outside the door of my cabin are four men dressed in dark clothes wearing face masks. They’re all armed with at least one gun each.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
How had this happened? How the fuck had they traced Emma here? Or had they traced me? I run a million possibilities through my head.
I turn to Emma. She’s white as a ghost, and her eyes are filled with fear.
“Are they…” She doesn’t finish the sentence.
She doesn’t need to. I know what she’s trying to ask.
“That’s them all right. I’ve got no fucking idea how they found you or us.”
I notice she’s shaking. I walk over to her and wrap my arms around her.
“It’ll be all right,” I murmur and hold her while my eyes are glued to the monitor.
“But…how…what…they’ll kill us…” Emma stutters, and I just keep stroking her back.
She’s right, of course. Those fucking dudes mean business. From what I can tell, they’ve not come to have a cup of tea with us.
I furrow my brow.
“What’re we going to do?” Emma’s sounding frantic. I can feel her heart pounding against her chest.
“We’re going to get out of here alive,” I reply and keep watching what the men are doing.
As far as they’re concerned, we’re fucking asleep in the house. They’re not going to ring the doorbell and get us up. From their movements, I don’t think they’re going to break in either. What’s more, it’s not fucking easy to break in.
But what are they going to do then?
I thank our lucky stars we have no lights on, aiding these guys into thinking we’re easy prey.
Prey. We’re not prey—we’re the predators. We’ve got the upper fucking hand, because we’re aware of what the fuck they’re up to.
“Should we get out? Should we talk to them?” Emma’s voice interrupts my thoughts.
“I don’t think these guys believe in talking.” I point to the screen.
Emma nods. “But how will we get out?”
I pace the length of the little room.
“We can’t just wait in here for them to come and shoot us?” Emma’s nearly sobbing.
“Don’t worry—” I start, but she cuts me off.
“Don’t worry? You’re telling me not to worry? Did you see those fucking big guns they’ve got? They burned my apartment down, remember?”
Bingo. Of course. They don’t need to fucking shoot us, because they’ve got another method to get rid of us.
How convenient. They’re only fucking armed in case they run into trouble.
“Dylan, look,” shrieks Emma, pointing to the screen.
One of the men is pouring petrol at the front door. The others have scattered, but I bet I know exactly what they fuck they’re doing.
“Oh, Dylan, we’re going to die. I’m too young to die,” wails Emma, and I grab her by the shoulders.
“Emma, listen to me. You’re not going to die. At least, not today or while you’re with me. Maybe one day of old age, but not right now.”
My words don’t hit their mark. “I’m going to be burnt alive. I don’t want to die. What about poor Boss?” She’s sobbing, and I can feel her body going limp.
Tempted as I am to slap her in the face so she gets a grip, I don’t. Instead I shake her a little.
“Listen to me, Emma,” I try and make eye contact with her. “You’re not going to die.”
Above us, the flames are crackling. Obviously, the fire has well and truly taken a hold.
Briefly, I lament all the things I’m going to lose. Sure, I’m not terribly materialistic, but there are some thing I’ve grown attached to.
A summer ago, I traded a bearskin for a first-class hunting knife. It was one of those short blade ones. It would be burnt to a crisp, as would my bear coat, and some of my other clothing.
Fucking bastards.
Anger now wells up in me. I want to fucking punch someone.
They’re destroying my house, my four walls built with love and sweat and tears.
“Emma, listen to me.” I put my hand under her chin and lift her face until I see her make eye contact. All life’s gone out of her eyes.
“This room is a safe spot. It’s fire-proof. The house can burn, and we will be safe in here. We won’t feel anything.”
At first, I’m not sure she’s heard what I say. Her eyes stay listless and dull.
After what seems like an eternity, but is probably only a matter of minutes, she asks. “What do you mean? How can we be safe?”
I push her loose strands of her hair out of her face and tuck them behind her ear.
“I mean, this room is built to withstand heat of up to several hundred degrees. It’s also explosion-proof and storm-proof. Nothing can touch us down here.”
She looks around, still looking frightened, her eyes wide like a deer’s.
“I…I don’t understand.” She sighs. “We can’t stay here forever. Food, water…”
I nod. “Of course we’re not going to stay here forever. We’re going to have our own exit strategy and beat these fuckers at their own game.”
She doesn’t believe me. I can tell. She thinks I’m lulling her into a false sense of security to make the time we’ve got left easier.
I sigh and lean forward to kiss her.
For a moment, there’s only us, the kiss, and the knowledge that whatever we’re facing, we’re facing it together.