the most
likely range of mountains. His decision made, he hiked for ten hours before
making camp. He had to adjust for the weakened condition she’d been in when
she got away, as well as her unfamiliarity with the land. With every step, he
got further from his cabin and closer to where he believed Daphne had been held
captive for almost two years.
On the
morning of the second day, he found an empty bag that once held beef jerky and
knew he was on the right track. Marking the trees, he continued on. Every two
hours, he removed the binoculars and scanned the face of the mountains. By his
fourth day, he’d explored half a dozen caves that didn’t hold what he was
looking for.
He
wouldn’t give up. He knew he was in the right general area.
And so
it was that almost a month after Daphne’s escape, he found her prison. Donning
night vision goggles, he entered the semi-concealed cave after he’d determined no
one alive was inside.
The
body of her last rapist lay just inside a makeshift jail cell made of rebar
that had been pounded into the rock of the floor and ceiling. The man’s pants
were around his knees and Ryan was gratified to see almost a dozen stab wounds
delivered into primary organs.
It
didn’t look like the others had been back since she’d fled. The cold had
preserved the body but nothing could help the smell of this place. He stepped
into her cage and saw where she’d once kept track of the days she spent here.
Rows
and rows of small marks on the rock hit him like a fist in his gut. A blanket
thinner than a t-shirt lay in a dirty heap on top of a threadbare bed roll,
likely the same one she’d brought from her own camp. That she had survived the
elements alone was a miracle. Alaska was not known for being gentle.
He
inspected the body of the dead man, finding his wallet in the back pocket of
his pants. “Winston James. You got less than you deserved, mother fucker.
You got off a hell of a lot easier than your friends will, I guarantee you.”
Ryan kicked the man in the back and left the cell.
Just
outside the cell, against the stone wall, was a bucket. In the bucket was the
pipe they’d used to rip the baby from Daphne’s womb. It was still covered in
her blood. There was no food, no water, no heat. She’d lived in this hole for
two years, able to see the outside but it may as well have been a hundred miles
away. He left the cave and set up a blind fifty yards above the entrance.
He
staked out the cave for days without seeing another person. He passed the time
listening to his MP3 player turned low in one ear and reading one James
Patterson novel after another. He wasn’t bored. He was a very patient man.
His
patience, as it always had before, paid off near noon a week later.
Two
men came from above, passing within feet of him and moving toward the opening below.
They were chatting amicably, not a care or a fear in the world. Not realizing
their death was literally moments away. “I’m tellin’ you, she’s gettin’ too
thin. Hasn’t been right since we yanked our brat out her body. Might have to
off her soon,” the one named Abel said.
The
man Ryan identified from Daphne’s sketch as Dan chuckled, “I guess Winston
decided to really get some good times in before we lose our little pet. He hasn’t
been back to the oil field in weeks. He’ll be lucky if he has a job after
this.”
“Dumb
shit. A piece of ass isn’t worth losin’ your paycheck. It ain’t like we don’t
have the weekends to come pay our girl a visit; share some of our good company
with her. Though the wife sure has been keeping me at home lately.”
Dan
stroked his groin through his pants, his erection already obvious. “I been
itchin’ for her though, Abel. None of the girls in town are so…accommodating.
With her, we can do what we can’t with our other
likely range of mountains. His decision made, he hiked for ten hours before
making camp. He had to adjust for the weakened condition she’d been in when
she got away, as well as her unfamiliarity with the land. With every step, he
got further from his cabin and closer to where he believed Daphne had been held
captive for almost two years.
On the
morning of the second day, he found an empty bag that once held beef jerky and
knew he was on the right track. Marking the trees, he continued on. Every two
hours, he removed the binoculars and scanned the face of the mountains. By his
fourth day, he’d explored half a dozen caves that didn’t hold what he was
looking for.
He
wouldn’t give up. He knew he was in the right general area.
And so
it was that almost a month after Daphne’s escape, he found her prison. Donning
night vision goggles, he entered the semi-concealed cave after he’d determined no
one alive was inside.
The
body of her last rapist lay just inside a makeshift jail cell made of rebar
that had been pounded into the rock of the floor and ceiling. The man’s pants
were around his knees and Ryan was gratified to see almost a dozen stab wounds
delivered into primary organs.
It
didn’t look like the others had been back since she’d fled. The cold had
preserved the body but nothing could help the smell of this place. He stepped
into her cage and saw where she’d once kept track of the days she spent here.
Rows
and rows of small marks on the rock hit him like a fist in his gut. A blanket
thinner than a t-shirt lay in a dirty heap on top of a threadbare bed roll,
likely the same one she’d brought from her own camp. That she had survived the
elements alone was a miracle. Alaska was not known for being gentle.
He
inspected the body of the dead man, finding his wallet in the back pocket of
his pants. “Winston James. You got less than you deserved, mother fucker.
You got off a hell of a lot easier than your friends will, I guarantee you.”
Ryan kicked the man in the back and left the cell.
Just
outside the cell, against the stone wall, was a bucket. In the bucket was the
pipe they’d used to rip the baby from Daphne’s womb. It was still covered in
her blood. There was no food, no water, no heat. She’d lived in this hole for
two years, able to see the outside but it may as well have been a hundred miles
away. He left the cave and set up a blind fifty yards above the entrance.
He
staked out the cave for days without seeing another person. He passed the time
listening to his MP3 player turned low in one ear and reading one James
Patterson novel after another. He wasn’t bored. He was a very patient man.
His
patience, as it always had before, paid off near noon a week later.
Two
men came from above, passing within feet of him and moving toward the opening below.
They were chatting amicably, not a care or a fear in the world. Not realizing
their death was literally moments away. “I’m tellin’ you, she’s gettin’ too
thin. Hasn’t been right since we yanked our brat out her body. Might have to
off her soon,” the one named Abel said.
The
man Ryan identified from Daphne’s sketch as Dan chuckled, “I guess Winston
decided to really get some good times in before we lose our little pet. He hasn’t
been back to the oil field in weeks. He’ll be lucky if he has a job after
this.”
“Dumb
shit. A piece of ass isn’t worth losin’ your paycheck. It ain’t like we don’t
have the weekends to come pay our girl a visit; share some of our good company
with her. Though the wife sure has been keeping me at home lately.”
Dan
stroked his groin through his pants, his erection already obvious. “I been
itchin’ for her though, Abel. None of the girls in town are so…accommodating.
With her, we can do what we can’t with our other
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