Page 28 of Lake's Legacy

My eyes have adjusted to the darkness so I can make out shapes. Finding Annette, I feel for the scalpel in her pocket. Sliding my fingers in, I carefully remove it.

“Pull your wrists apart as wide as you can,” I instruct her. She does, which gives me just an inch to work with. Taking great care, I slide the scalpel into the gap before cutting the ties. I can’t risk knicking her with the scalpel. The consequences are too dire. Once I cut her ties, she cuts mine. We can at least move around. Plus, we have a weapon. I’m hoping we can find another.

“I know where we are,” Annette says, putting the scalpel back in her pocket.

“Where?”

“This is Running Bear’s home. He died a few months ago. His kids moved away and left this place abandoned.”

“I don’t suppose Running Bear built a secret entrance to his cellar, by any chance?” I ask in jest.

“Maybe. Sometimes, cellars often have more than one entrance. Let’s look around and see if we can find one.”

We each move in different directions to start our search. I can’t see past my face, so I use my hands. Not that I expect to find a hidden door, but at least we’re doing something other than worrying about the men coming back. Or worse, the men leaving us here.

“Dammit,” Annette curses from across the room.

“What happened?”

“I tripped over these logs. Wait. This is an entire stack of logs.”

“I don’t think we should start a fire down here,” I chastise her, even though I feel the room's chill.

“I wasn’t recommending we start one, but this stack of wood is not near the door. I don’t see Running Bear hauling this wood down those steps and storing the wood this far from the door. He probably has a trap door above this pile that he used to drop the wood from outside. We need to move this wood out of the way.”

“I have an idea.” After several trips, we have created a barrier that will delay our captors from reaching us. We’ve stacked thelogs five layers deep. They can’t push open the door without alerting us and exerting some strength. Lucky for us, none of the men were muscular. We’ve also worked up a sweat, so we no longer feel the chill.

“Okay, we need to search the top of the wall and the ceiling,” Annette instructs.

We begin our search again. This time, I’m the one who makes a discovery. “I think I feel something. Feels like a slit in the wall.” Whatever it is, it sits high up on the wall.

We shift a few logs to build a platform on which to stand. When we both find hinges, we hit pay dirt.

“I have the handle. Here, help me pull,” Annette says. I locate her hands, and we both pull on the metal ring. The trap door pops open. “Good. Let’s get out of here. I’ll help you up, and then you can help me. Once we’re free, head for the bayou. I can lead us through it.”

Since I’m several inches taller than Annette, I quickly pull myself up through the opening. It’s a tight fit, but I manage. Turning, I reach down and grasp hold of Annette’s wrists. That’s when we hear the men attempt to open the door. They cuss and throw themselves at it when they can’t shove it open. Annette scrambles up, using my body as a ladder. I’m helping her through when I hear a gun go off. Pain rips across my scalp as we tumble backward onto the ground.

“Move!” Annette hisses. We make a beeline for the thick foliage. The fear of a bullet in my back gives me speed.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: LAKE

The cabin is still habitable but showing apparent signs of neglect. Whoever built it fought a raging battle against the surrounding bayou, carving out the land to construct a home, but nature was taking it back. Kudzu and trumpet vine were sneaking toward the cabin like a predator stalking its prey. Alligator grass followed in its wake, ready to smother what remained of a vegetable garden. The numerous tracks from the road to the house proved we weren’t the first visitors. Several motorcycles had crossed through the overgrowth. Many of the tracks were old, but I spotted recent ones. This is the place. I’m sure of it.

Not taking any chances, I direct Toff to continue past and park out of sight.

“I’ll check it out. You wait here,” I tell Toff. He nods as I slide out and silently shut the door. Keeping to the trees, I go through the overgrown foliage until I can see the back of the cabin. Three motorcycles sit in the back nearest the door. Hoping three motorcycles mean only three men inside, I return to the SUV.

“I think this is the place. Three motorcycles. They're hiding out here if they’re the guys who took the girls. I’m going in,” I tell him, palming my gun. I pull up my pant leg to reveal a second gun. “You armed? If not…”

“I’m armed,” Toff says, opening the glove box and taking out a Glock. “I called Joseph. He’s sending some guys our way.”

“I’m not waiting. If they get spooked, they’ll book it. We can’t take a chance on them harming the women. So, let’s go. We can take them.”

Using the foliage as cover, we move until the cabin comes into view. The bikes are still there. The side facing us has a single window, but it’s high up on the wall, so it's likely a bathroom. We run forward and plaster our backs against the wall.

“You go through the back, and I’ll come in through the front.” Toff nods, moving into position, while I slide against the wall toward the front door. Reaching the corner, I turn to watch Toff’s progress. He snaps his head around the corner before snapping it back. But instead of giving me a nod, I get a frantic wave. I’m uncertain about what he’s trying to tell me, but the echoes of revving engines clue me in. Fuck!

Three motorcycles fly around the corner, speeding past Toff. The one in the lead spots him, but he is too late to take a shot. However, he sees me and shoots. He misses, but having to drop to the ground costs me my chance. I return fire, but they’re far enough away that I doubt I hit anything. However, I did see one wobble before righting himself. So, who knows? Maybe I winged one. The road they’re on will take them to Highway 90. Taking out my phone, I call Hex.

---