Page 20 of Mountain Captive

“I’m going up the fire escape,” Rand said. “I’m not waiting for a key.”

“The stairs aren’t down,” Jake said. “No one’s been up there.”

“Or they’ve been up there and pulled the stairs up after them,” Rand said. He pushed past Jake and headed toward the fire escape. As Jake had said, the bottom of the stairs was ten feet overhead, out of his reach.

Rand pulled out his phone and dialed Chris’s number. It rang five times before going to voicemail. “I can’t take your call right now...” He ended the call and shoved the phone back into his pocket. By this time, Jake had caught up with him. “She’s not answering,” Rand said. “I know something’s wrong.”

Gage called to them from the corner of the building. “The landlord is on the way,” he said. “She said she’ll be here in five minutes.”

Rand looked up at the fire escape again. If he parked his SUV beneath it, he could climb on top and maybe reach the bottom of the ladder from there. He pulled his keys from his pocket. “Where are you going?” Jake asked.

“To help Chris.” Waiting was only buying more time for her to end up hurt. Or worse.

CHRISHEARDTHESIREN, growing louder by the second until the wailing was directly below. Then the sound shut off. Help was almost here. She just had to hang on a little longer.

The intruder was in the house now, footsteps lumbering as they—because it sounded like more than one person—searched the apartment. Something heavy, a piece of furniture, fell to the floor with a crash. “We know you’re in here, Elita!” a man—Jedediah?—called out.

Harley growled, a low and menacing rumble. Chris buried her fingers in the thick ruff at his neck. “Quiet!” she hissed. They needed to remain hidden until the deputies arrived. What was taking them so long?

The footsteps entered the bedroom. Chris’s heart hammered. She let go of the dog and gripped the knife in her right hand, then thought better of that and slid it into her pocket. She hefted the fire extinguisher and looped her finger into the metal ring on the handle.

Crash! A scream escaped her as something hit the closet door, causing it to bow inward. Harley lunged at the door, barking furiously. Chris braced against the back wall of the closet and stood, shoving clothes aside and balancing the fire extinguisher on one thigh. Her pulse sounded so loud in her ear she could scarcely hear anything else, though the dog’s barking echoed in the small space.

The door burst open, splinters flying. Chris pulled the ring from the handle of the fire extinguisher, aimed the hose and squeezed the trigger. She hit her intruder right in the face. When the second man shoved the first out of the way and lunged for her, she got him, too, white powder billowing up and coating his glasses and hair and filling his mouth when he opened it to shout.

When the extinguisher was empty, Chris swung it like a club. She hit the second man hard on the shoulder. When he staggered back, the first man rushed forward, and she thrust the bottom of the extinguisher into his forehead, connecting with a sickeningthwack—like a hammer hitting a watermelon. The first man grabbed on to the door of the closet but remained standing, only to be driven farther back by Harley, who rushed forward, teeth bared.

“Freeze! Sheriff’s department!” came a shout from the front room.

The first man turned; then the second grabbed his shoulder. “We better get out of here,” he said. They raced from the room. Chris dropped the fire extinguisher and sank to her knees, arms wrapped around Harley, who was still barking and lunging.

That was how Jake Gwynn found her. She had to calm the dog before he could approach, but once she had convinced Harley that everything was okay, Jake helped her to the end of the bed, where she sat and contemplated the closet’s shattered door and the carpeting coated with white powder.

“There were two men,” she said. “They broke in, and I hid in the closet with Harley. They ran when they heard you coming.”

“Gage went after them,” Jake said. “Do you know who they are?”

“Oh, I’m sure they were members of the Vine,” she said. “They’re the only ones who would want to hurt me. One of them might have been Jedediah.”

“Did you get a good look at them?” Jake asked. “Could you identify them?”

She shook her head. “By the time I saw them, they were covered in the powder from the fire extinguisher.” She closed her eyes, replaying those few split seconds. “And I think their faces were covered. They wore ski masks or something like that. And gloves.” She had the image of black-gloved hands reaching for her fixed in her mind.

“Chris!”

Rand’s cry made her sit up straighter. “We’re in the bedroom,” Jake called. “Don’t come in. You could contaminate evidence.” He indicated the footprints in the powder on the carpet, which he had avoided when he entered the room. “Those are from your attackers. We might be able to match them to their shoes later.”

Rand appeared in the doorway. “Chris, are you all right?” he asked.

“I’m fine.” She passed a shaky hand through her hair. “They never laid a hand on me.”

Rand surveyed the chaos around the closet. “What happened?”

“She let off a fire extinguisher at them,” Jake said, a note of admiration in his voice.

“I hit them with it too,” she said. “And there’s a kitchen knife in my pocket. I would have used it on them if I had to. And I had Harley.” She hugged the dog, as much out of affection as to keep him from bounding across the powdered carpet to Rand.

“You shouldn’t be in here, Rand,” Jake said. “Go back outside and wait. Let the ambulance crew finish looking you over.”

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