Page 97 of Unexpected Danger
He hobbled along much slower than he’d like. A tree branch slapped him hard in the face as he slithered through a tight area. The landscape turned hilly with an incline toward the river. He wished he knew where Haack was taking Londyn, and he wished he had service to call for backup. Brodie refused to give thought to Dustin Haack’s endgame motive. The man was as depraved as they came. A charmer. A manipulator. Unpredictable. Tactical. Vindictive. Devious. Cruel. Obsessed. Lacking a conscience.
The list could go on, and Brodie was far from a psychiatrist, but the character traits of this dangerous man urged Brodie to persevere no matter what it took or how much the pain in his head argued.
Surely at some point, Haack would be stopped.
The pines thickened, and swarms of bugs buzzed in front of him. The occasional chipmunk or squirrel crossed his path, and he’d already spotted several deer, an elk, and a moose in the distant meadow. One would think Brodie was out of shape with the way his breath came in gasps as he climbed up one side of the hill, then nearly slid down the other. The boat stopped, and Brodie hid behind a thick-trunked tree.
Haack dragged the canoe to the shore. Brodie stayed hidden as he watched Haack roughly pull Londyn to her feet and shove her out of the canoe. She nearly tripped, and he grabbed her arm to right her. It was obvious her hands and feet were bound.
Brodie fisted his hands at his sides, and his body tensed. The sooner he extricated Londyn from Haack’s grasp, the better. He weaved in and out of the trees as he attempted to draw closer.Fortunately, with her feet bound, Londyn was taking small, deliberate steps. Haack held a gun on her, which would be the biggest deterrent to overcome.
He detested hostage situations.
Stopping periodically and maintaining his cover, Brodie continued along through the web of trees. Thankfully, he was on the same side of the river as Londyn and Dustin. If he hadn’t been, there would be no way he would have been able to swim over to the other side without extreme difficulty. The rushing spring waters and his own injuries would have precluded him from being successful at that endeavor.
A pinecone Brodie hadn’t noticed crunched beneath his shoe.
Haack swiveled in Brodie’s direction. His head jerked up, and he aimed the gun at Brodie. The bullet ricocheted off a nearby tree. Brodie ducked and sought cover as more shots were fired.
“Don’t come any closer,” Haack yelled.
Brodie’s heart pounded in his chest. He needed a weapon, but more importantly, he needed a plan. Terror stabbed at his heart. He needed to devise a strategy to rescue Londyn with no interference.
Please, God.
Dustin Haack continued to haphazardly waste bullets. Brodie sat with his back to the rocks, allowing him better cover and protection.
He fished his phone from his back pocket. There were no bars, but therewasa possibility he could still call 911 even without service because his phone would search for the nearest cell tower and send the signal there. And he knew there were cell towers nearby. Except, he’d be unable to speak with Haack so close.
Haack paused his target practice. Good. Maybe he depleted his bullets. But that wouldn’t stop him from hunting down Brodie’s location. Brodie peered around the corner, keepinghimself as compressed against the mound of rocks as possible. Haack walked in the opposite direction, checking behind trees.
Brodie pressed the SOS emergency feature on his phone just as the boom of another gunshot echoed. He then texted a message as well, doubling his efforts. Sheriff Brenneman, emergency situation, Pronghorn Lake. Send help asap.
Haack’s thundering voice boomed. “I will find you. You can’t hide forever.” Haack stomped, his actions more befitting of a toddler than a man in his thirties.
Brodie muted his phone’s volume and stuffed his device into his pocket. A peek through a crevice between two rocks indicated Haack was now stationary and standing beside a bound Londyn, his gun aimed in Brodie’s direction. How many bullets would the man squander on him? Would he turn the weapon on Londyn? Haack shouted again, his words laced with anger and profanity. Brodie would buy his time until Haack finished and had either spent all the bullets or had given up, figuring he’d already hit Brodie. In which case…
When the next bullet whizzed past him, Brodie released a muffled yell and pounded the ground as if he’d toppled over.
“I told you to stay away! You finally got what you deserved,” Haack shouted. Brodie tarried behind the rock formation. It was a win-win situation for him. Either Haack would figure he was mortally wounded and go about his business while Brodie watched from a distance. Or, if Haack instead decided to investigate whether Brodie had been fatally shot, he would leave Londyn where she was and come searching for Brodie. In which instance, Brodie would launch a surprise attack on his adversary.
Haack shoved Londyn to the side, causing her to trip and fall to the ground with no way to catch herself. Brodie gritted his teeth, barely catching himself in time before protesting. It took all of his control not to react—to not leap to his feet and bolttoward—and pay back Haack for what he had done and was doing to Londyn. But to let Haack know his position at this point would set Brodie’s plan up for instant failure.
With God’s help, Brodie resisted that urge. Instead, he remained as still as possible, keeping his ears fine-tuned to the sounds around him, including Haack’s pounding footsteps as the man grew closer. Haack shuffled on the pine needles in Brodie’s direction, then stopped. Londyn had maneuvered her way back into the canoe. Haack must have realized it, because he turned around and started again toward her, his gun raised. This was Brodie’s chance.
And if he failed… no, he wouldn’t fail. He couldn’t fail. Failure was not an option.
Ignoring the stabbing pain in his head, Brodie pushed forward through the trees in pursuit of Haack. The man pivoted and scanned the area behind him as Brodie again slimmed himself behind a cluster of tree trunks. Silence, except for the cry of a red-tailed hawk.
Finally, he heard the sound of footsteps again. Brodie’s heart pounded wildly in his chest. He would never become accustomed to the adrenaline rush that tore through him when pursuing a perpetrator.
Londyn made a sound, distracting Haack from Brodie.
This was Brodie’s chance.
Brodie launched from his location and sprinted toward Haack, tackling him from behind. Haack’s gun flew from his hand and landed a few feet away. Brodie slithered along the ground, reaching for it. Haack did the same. Brodie reached up and punched Haack in the face. The man reeled backward before grabbing a rock and attempting to clobber Brodie with it, his aim striking Brodie slightly above the ear. The combination of pain from that and his first head injury caused Brodie to momentarily freeze. If he were in his top form, neutralizing Haack would beno problem, but at this moment, his being in tip-top condition was negligible.
In the canoe, Londyn attempted to remove the bindings from her ankles.
