Page 1 of Echoes in the Night

Prologue

“Whyyy you doooing this? Plessse let me goooo.” The words are hard to pronounce. Slurred even to my ears. But my tongue and my head aren’t working right. I ca—can’t think or form the right words. A shiver shakes my whole body.

He chuckles. “Because I can. I like the challenge of setting up unusual ‘accidents’. Most deaths are so boring and predictable. Gunshot here, stabbing there. Where’s the fun? I like the challenge of making it different. This one is especially innovative, because within hours of the end of the storm the local predators will dispose of the body for me.

Consider yourself lucky Maura, you’ll be long dead before they feast on you.”

Chapter One

Jaxon Alexander

Pushing back with my boots against the porch railing, I angle my old wicker chair onto two legs. The wind is picking up, clouds rapidly blowing in followed by a bank of darkness. Temperature has already dropped a good ten degrees. Gonna be one hell of a storm.

Good thing I stocked up last week when I went to town. I’m good for months if I need to just stay put. I can always hunt.

Taking a sip of my coffee before setting it on the small table beside me, I settle in to watch nature’s show.

“Help me. Help me please.”

Jerking forward, the chair drops to all four legs as I clutch the sides of my head. Fucking hell. It’s been months. I thought the voices were gone. What the hell triggered this episode.Fucking PTSD.

“HELP! HELP ME PLEASE!”

Jumping to my feet, I glance into the forest. That’s not in my head. That’s an actual voice on the wind. A woman’s desperate voice.

“Is anyone out there? Help me. PLEASE!”

Shit, this is real. Grabbing my backpack with a lantern and my rifle, I charge into the tree line headed in the general direction of the voice. My tracking’s good but I wasn’t focused. I could have misjudged the direction. Please let her call out again.

“Help! Help!”

Got it. While I’m racing through the forest my mind starts to play games.Are you sure this is real? Could it be the enemy trying to lure you and your teammates out of position? It could be a set up. Be careful. Focus.

“Help.”

This isn’t a war zone. This is home. Inhaling deeply, I ground myself on the smell of pine, dirt and my mountain top. Shaking my head to clear the doubt I push forward.

Thereisa woman out there who needs help. Probably a hiker who fell. They usually don’t come this far up the mountain. Precisely why Gramps built where he did and why I came to hide from my past.

“Help me, please.”

The voice is closer but weaker. The time between her calls is longer. I hadn’t been on the porch for more than five minutes when I heard her the first time. How long has she been in trouble?

After working in the barn, I’d gone inside showered, made coffee, probably putzed for a good hour. If she’s bleeding this could be bad, and I didn’t think to grab my med kit. The temperature is dropping quickly and with the cloud cover it’s getting dark faster than normal. Damn. Move it soldier.

It’s been several minutes, and the voice has been silent for at least five, when I burst into a small clearing. What greets me stops me dead in my tracks. I’ve seen some fucked up shit. But…

A woman dressed in nothing but a bra and panties, hangs from a tree branch by her bound wrists. The rope holding her inplace is stretched taut so that her feet barely touch the ground, another around her waist holds her against the tree trunk.

What the hell? Is this some kind of trap? I ease back into the tree line and scan the small clearing. Pulling my blade from its sheath, I stay in the trees and cautiously circle the area coming up behind where she’s secured.

“Are you alone?” I whisper in her ear.

“Help…” she murmurs before slumping completely, held up only by her wrists.

Shifting in front of her, I slice the rope above her arms and then the one at her waist. Her skin feels like ice against my palms as I catch her against my body. Lying her gently on the ground I wrap her in my shearling coat warm from my body heat. Then do a quick search of the clearing. No clothes, no personal effects. As if the area was scrubbed.

I’m kicking myself for not taking a photo of her hanging as I snap pictures of the dangling rope, one boot print nearby, trampled areas and anything else I think could be evidence. As I’m shoving the rope bits into my bag, the snow starts in earnest. Any remaining evidence will be gone shortly. Nothing for it.

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