Hope To Escape (16 page)

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

The conversation between Max and Ess casually moved onward, and dialog between them became not unlike two old friends who were catching up after years of leading separate lives. The effect of the amity made Max extremely blissful and left Ess a little befuddled.

Max wished, and not for the first time in the past twenty-four hours, that he had a sketchpad. He was now able to observe Ess like he never could before. Her movements and expressions were beyond anything his imagination had been able to conjure up over the years. He noticed that when Ess became animated in conversation, her delightful eyes narrowed slightly, her brilliant cheeks emitted a warm glow and her plush lips curled up at the sides slightly higher than when she simply smiled. Quite exquisite. He wanted to capture it so he could have it to keep forever.

Ess was fully aware that she shouldn't feel so at ease with this man, and she tried not to; but he exuded this unexpected sort of consoling quality that made her slowly drop her guard, despite her best efforts. Sure he was a stranger and he held her in seclusion in the middle of nowhere against her will, but he pulled it off so well that she let herself forget that this was an impromptu camping trip.

In fact, she found his character quite unimposing, and his conversation quite intelligent. If they had met in a bar or café, she probably would have been immensely attracted to him. If the circumstances had been different, she knew that she would have been very happy to be acquainted with him. She didn't find him to be all that physically striking at first, to be honest, but his easy exchange and sincere attention made him absolutely charming.

Their conversation took it's natural turns and shifts, and eventually progressed to the topic of coincidences. The subject had a simple beginning in that it played much importance in the progress of stories, both true and fiction. Max observed, and Ess gladly latched on to the suggestion, that without coincidental meetings and incidences, there could be no plots, no chains of events, no happy endings or just desserts. Without coincidences there would be no stories, no remarkable experiences in peoples lives. Life would simply be methodical, and purposeless.

"Yes, you're right," Ess agreed enthusiastically, "The greatest stories ever written are full of coincidences. Ah, let me see, like: Romeo and Juliet. Romeo is pining away like a sissy over some girl when he happens to run into the daughter of his family's enemy and falls in love with her; then, the day he and Juliet plan to run off together, he runs into her cousin and unintentionally kills him. That just accelerates the events that ultimately lead to the death of the two lovers. Tragic. But full of coincidences."

It was a long speech for Ess, and she found that her brain was moving faster than her mouth. Occasionally she stumbled over her words, but she just kept going. It felt so good to be listened to.

"Then, of course, there's Pride and Prejudice, again – I have to bring up the coincidences in that story: Elizabeth Bennett visits her best friend at Rosings Park at the same time Mr. Darcy is visiting his aunt, which leads to his botched up first proposal. Then, Lizzy happens to show up for a tour at Pemberly the same day Darcy returns to his home, and they're thrown back together. The events eventually lead him to save her family's honor and finally gain her hand in marriage."

Max was more than willing to supply his own examples, too, and found Ess equally willing to listen as she was to speak. "Charles Dickens was a great
user
of coincidences in his stories, too. Oliver Twist ended up getting caught robbing the house of some people that had known his mother; oh, and Nicholas Nickelby ended up saving poor abused Smike from a third rate boarding school, and found out later that they were actually cousins. Then, of course, you can't forget A Tale of Two Cities. Charles Darnay and Syndey . . . oh, what was his name? Carton, yes, thank you. They happened to look so much alike that they could pass for twins, and they both loved the same woman. So, in the end, Sydney was able to sacrifice himself to save Charles's life and make Lucie Darnay happy. Lots of coincidences."

"Wow." Ess was unbelievably impressed by Max's knowledge of Dickens. "And it's so true in real life, too. Like getting on that plane – "

". . . Or off. . . " Max offered up.

". . . Or taking the road less
traveled. . ."

". . . Or overhearing a conversation in a restaurant," Max supplied without missing a beat.

"Right." Ess fumbled at that offering, but continued, blushing, "They all stop or start or change a person's story, for better or for worse." She was very aware of the coincidence that led them to where they were now: her anecdote in the restaurant. She was apt to think that that pivotal moment changed her life for the worse. It was not an unreasonable conclusion, only, she was still hoping for a happy ending. The thought made her shiver through her blanket.

Max noticed this, and quickly handed his own blanket to her. She tried to refuse, but Max insisted that he was getting too warm anyway. This was a chivalrous fib, but Ess accepted the blanket, while Max stoked the fire.

"I'm in the mood for more coffee. How about you?" Max smiled graciously, and Ess couldn't help but smile back and nod. More coffee would be perfect.

As he refilled the kettle, he continued their conversation over his shoulder. He had her talking, he had her comfortable, and he would do anything to keep it going. When the kettle was full, he placed it on the burner and turned away from the stove to comment on Ess's latest statement regarding the consequences of events in Alexander Dumas's The Count of Monte Cristo. That was when he saw part of
a
face disappearing from the window by the door.

Max's heart thudded in his chest. They were being spied on. He didn't know if it was some strange 'Peeping Tom' in the middle of the preserve, or if they had been discovered, but he knew he had to react. Ideas sped through his head. How could he confront the situation without worrying or endangering Ess?

"I think I should get a little more firewood." Max headed for the door, grabbing the poker from the fireplace before he went.

This sudden decision to end their conversation and leave the cabin bewildered Ess. Not only was there more than sufficient firewood stacked along the wall, but what use could a poker be in collecting extra?

Max opened the door only just enough to let himself squeeze through, while remaining as nonchalant about it as he could. This move did not give him the opportunity he would have liked to check his surroundings before exposing himself, and before he could shut the door behind him, he was thrust back inside by whomever it was that he was attempting to confront. He crashed to the floor, hitting his head on the thick rough leg of the wooden table as he went down. That was the second blow to his head in the last sixteen hours, and it was really going to start throbbing soon.

Ess let out an abrupt scream of surprise when the intruder entered, and sunk back into the stiff couch as much as she could. She saw Max hit the floor, and her fear took her once again. She had been shocked and frightened so much lately that her body was no
longer
cooperating with her head. Instead of fleeing like she wanted to, she was frozen in panic.

Max struggled to get back up, but before he could strike back at the intruder, the man had a gun drawn on him. Upon seeing this, Max had wits enough to freeze. It took a moment for the situation to register, but he suddenly recognized the figure in front of him.

"Oh, shit," was all Max could exclaim at that instant.

"Max," The man spoke. "You are a hard man to find. We've been looking for you all night." He glanced over at Ess, who was still panic-stricken on the couch. Her eyes were on the gun. "I believe you have something that doesn't belong to you."

Max looked at Ess. The expression on her face showed her confusion and annoyance. She didn't understand what was going on, and she struggled to conclude if this stranger was a good guy or a bad guy.

"She doesn't belong to anyone." Max answered. His disgust was obvious in his tone. Ess was being spoken of as though she was an object. With this realization, the gravity of the situation struck her. This intruder was not here to save her. He must be Angoli or one of his henchmen.

Max took a step closer. His goal was to remove the gun from the situation. Then, the advantage would be gone and he would be able to attack his enemy on equal terms. The man saw the intensity with which Max eyed the gun, and noticed that Max was poised to strike. He wasn't
about
to give him that advantage, though. He raised the gun from Max's chest to his head and cocked the trigger.

Ess inhaled sharply in her fright. The man glanced over at her, distracted for only
a
moment, but Max reacted quickly. Grasping the opportunity to assail, he bounded and lashed out towards the gun, hoping to knock it out of its possessor's hand. The gun was removed from its target, but the man did not drop it. He accidentally pulled the trigger, and the bullet grazed the wall above Ess's head. This resulted in a scream from the woman as she finally recovered her senses enough to leap away from the couch.

Max's anger elevated at the close call. He lowered his head, and charged the man, knocking him back against the wall. The man was surprised by this force and was unable to prevent Max from wrapping his hands around his neck. Regaining himself enough to drop the gun, the man attempted to pry Max's hands from his throat, but was astonished to find that Max's strength seemed nearly inhuman.

Ess ran for the door in an attempt to escape. While the man continued his struggle for breath, he managed to flail his foot outwards as she ran by him, kicking her in the shin with enough force to trip her. Ess fell hard. Her wrists, which were still sore from trying to catch her previous fall the night before, roared in pain as she landed on them again. She let out a whimper of agony.

The man, satisfied that he slowed her down, looked back into the face of his choker and saw the impossible anger intensify all the more. Max looked like a madman. They both felt the squeeze increase around the intruder's throat, causing a painful coughing reaction. Meanwhile, Max was so intent on wrenching the air from the man's lungs that he left himself open to his enemy's limbs. When the man raised his knee to Max's groin, the effect was immediate. Max's eyes watered and his strength diminished from his hands. A moment later, he was doubled over on the floor in misery.

The man gave himself
a
moment to catch his breath. The rushing return of blood and oxygen back to his head apparently caused him some momentary dizziness. He came back to himself abruptly when he noticed that Ess had pushed back to her feet and was stumbling out of the doorway. He grabbed her roughly by her injured wrist, and pulled her towards him. "You're not leaving without me, are you?" His question didn't
warrant
a response, but elicited a scowl from Ess nonetheless.

Her weak attempts to pull away were useless. The man just pulled her closer to him, invading her space completely. She pushed against his chest to no avail.

Forcing her to bend down towards the floor with him, the man quickly repossessed his gun and aimed it at her face. Ess ceased her struggles at that point. Finally, she looked down at Max. He was writhing on the floor, trying to get up, but still unable to overcome his pain.

The man spoke in her ear. The closeness was sickeningly intimate, making her shiver. "Do you have rope?" She didn't reply so he twisted her wrist until she cried out in pain. "Huh?" He shouted in her face. "Do you have rope?"

"I – I don't know." Did Max pack rope? What did this man want it for? She certainly wasn't enthusiastic about being tied up again.

The man tossed her towards the bags that were on the floor by the kitchenette. "Find some." She looked up at him with a glowering glare. He simply pointed his gun at her. "Either you find some rope and tie him up," He shifted his arm to aim the gun at Max. "Or I'll just have to shoot him." With a smile, he explained, "We can't have him following us now."

Ess, afraid of what this lunatic was capable of, dug through the bags for rope. She pulled out a roll of clothesline, not sure what Max's foresight in packing it could have been. When she held it up to the man, hoping it would appease him, he instructed her to tie Max's hands and feet together.