Predator (22 page)

T
he dirt road was long and winding, made more for three-wheelers than for a car. As Krista drove down it, bushes and branches scraped and beat her car.

Behind her, Hearne kept his gun to Megan’s head.

Maybe there was a house back here, or someone hunting. She prayed that God would intervene and not let him murder them.

No one knew where they were!

They went about a mile into the dense forest, and the path ended at a creek. As she stepped on the brakes, she scanned the area, looking for an escape. If they could just get out of the car, maybe she could run. But not without Megan.

Megan covered her head, wailing, traumatized. The gun was still in the glove compartment, just in front of Megan. If Megan could just grab it…

Hearne opened his car door, and got out on Krista’s side, moving his aim to her head as he reached for her door.

“Megan,” she whispered quickly. “Glove compartment. Gun.”

But Megan was too distraught, and she didn’t hear.

Hearne opened her door. His eyes looked wild, anxious.

Megan moaned, rocking back and forth as though comforting herself.

“Please…” Krista said, looking up at him.

He pulled something out of his pocket. White plastic ties.

“Put your hands together at the top of the steering wheel,” he said.

She hesitated.

“Do it!”

Krista grabbed the top of the steering wheel.

“Megan,” he said, bending in. “If you keep wailing like that, I’m going to put a bullet through your brain. Is that what you want?”

She hushed, but kept clutching her head and rocking.

“Megan, take this tie, and wrap it around Krista’s wrists.”

Megan shook her head no. “I can’t.”

“It’s okay, Megan,” Krista said, trying to keep her voice calm. “Go ahead. Do it.”

With shaking hands, Megan took the tie and wrapped it around Krista’s wrists.

“Slip it through the hole, and pull it tight,” he said. “Hurry.”

She did as he said and pulled it. The insides of Krista’s wrists touched each other, but it wasn’t too tight.

“Now, take this other one,” he said, giving it to Megan. “And put it through the first one, then tie it to the steering wheel.”

“Can’t,” Megan muttered. “I’m gonna be sick.”

“Come on, Megan,” Krista coaxed. “Please, just do what he says.”

Megan pulled the tie through so that it bound Krista’s hands to the steering wheel.

Hearne grabbed the end of each tie, yanked them tighter. Krista thought her wrists would snap. He leaned in and got her car keys, slid them into his pocket. Then he went around the car to get Megan.

“Glove compartment,” Krista bit out. “Megan, open it!”

But Megan snapped, and lunged out of the car, trying to escape before Hearne could get to her. Because of her leg brace, she hobbled more than ran. Krista screamed as Hearne descended on Megan and knocked her to the ground.

The gun…she had to get to the gun.

Megan was screaming, fighting, but her fight seemed to delight Hearne. He was going to rape the girl again. He was going to murder her this time. Then he would do it to Krista, and bury them both.

God, you’ve got to help us!

She tried to free her hands, without success, and she shook the steering wheel, tried to curl her hands and slip them out. But the ties were too tight.

She slipped her right foot out of its shoe and groped at the glove compartment. She managed to pull the handle with her toe, and the small door opened.

She could see the gun. She just couldn’t get to it.
Please God!

He’d gotten Megan to her feet, ripped her brace off her leg. She kicked and screamed as he tried to control her.

Grunting, Krista lifted her leg again, and with her foot, managed to slide the gun out. It hit the floor on the passenger side of the car.

Hearne got Megan down again, swung to hit her with his fist, but she foiled his swing. Somewhere, Krista heard dogs barking.

She slid partially off her seat, moving her right leg around her console, to the other floorboard. She felt the gun, but only pushed it away. No, she had to reach it…pull it.

But it was too far. As she groped for it with her foot, she heard Megan’s bloody scream.

As David drove, Ryan searched for any sign of tire tracks going off the road. But he saw nothing. Where had they turned?

He watched the triangle on the computer. “It’s still up ahead. We haven’t passed their turnoff yet.”

“How far?” David asked, breathing hard.

“Maybe a mile.”

David sped up as Ryan spoke to Pensky again. “How far away are you guys?”

“We’re almost to Carson.”

“We’ve lost them,” he said. “We don’t know where they turned off.” It looked as if they were coming closer to the triangle. “It’s somewhere along here,” he said. “They turned left. There has to be a road or driveway…”

“There’s nothing,” David cried. “He’s going to kill her!”

Krista slid sideways on the seat, hands still bound to the steering wheel. She managed to touch the gun again with her foot, and this time pulled it toward her. Afraid it would go off accidentally, she got it to the hump between the seats and managed to pull it over.

Megan screamed outside the car, long, blood-curdling screams that racked through the forest. The gun fell onto Krista’s side of the floorboard. Straightening, she looked out the windshield.

Megan had gotten to her feet and was running again, each step on her right leg making her lunge. Hearne was on her heels, grabbing her hair, throwing her back down.

Krista slipped her other foot out of its shoe, kicked the shoes aside, then swept the gun between both of her feet. She lifted her legs, trying to get it up to her bound hands. How would this ever work?

Sweat trickled into her eyes, though cold wind swept through the car. She worked at it again, moving her knees apart as her feet came up with the gun. Grinding her teeth, she leaned back and pulled her feet up, trying to twist her fingers down so she could grab it. She couldn’t reach, so she dipped her head and clamped her teeth over the barrel.

She pulled it up, placed it in her hands, turned it around.

Megan was flailing, scratching Hearne’s eyes, kicking with all her might. He held his gun tight in one hand, but let her go and grabbed a fallen branch. Holding it like a bat, he reared back to swing.

Getting both fingers over the trigger, and aiming through the windshield, Krista squeezed…

The gun fired.

“I heard a gunshot!” David said, rolling his window down. “He’s killing them!”

“There!” Ryan said. “A dirt road. Fresh tracks!”

David slowed, muttering prayers under his breath.

“We found a road,” Ryan said into the phone.

“Leave a marker,” Pensky said. “Your shirt or your shoes…Anything to show us where you turned.”

The shirt could blow away, but not his shoes. He pulled them off, tossed them out the window as they turned onto the dirt.

The road didn’t seem wide enough for a car, but there were broken branches, and the tracks they saw appeared as wide as Krista’s car. Bushes and limbs scraped the SUV as they pushed through. He heard screaming, and his heart slammed against his chest.

Was Krista still alive?

The bullet missed Hearne, but it startled him enough to make him step back. He looked at the car, saw Krista aiming…

Dropping the branch, he raised his gun to fire back, but she pulled the trigger again. It hit the tree next to him, splintering wood.

Megan took the reprieve to get to her feet again. She limped away, into the trees.

Hearne fired, shattering Krista’s windshield, hitting the seat next to her. She ducked down, trying to get her head under the dashboard, and fired blindly.

When she peeked over, he was walking toward her, cocking his revolver. She leaned toward the door as his gun fired. Pain tore through her arm, hitting nerve and bone, knocking her back. She dropped the gun.

The screaming had stopped, but the gunfire went on. Ryan felt sick. He wanted to get out of the car and run toward the sound, but knew they could get there faster by car.

“Let him know we’re here!” Ryan yelled. “Your horn.”

David pressed his horn as he wound down the path. It blared through the woods, and birds fluttered out of trees.

Just as Hearne cocked his pistol again, Krista heard the sound of a horn coming closer. It stopped Hearne, and he looked past her, down the dirt road.

Someone was coming!

Hearne took off then, into the trees, running away like the coward he was.

Screaming for help, she looked in the rearview mirror. She saw an SUV…her father driving.

He slammed to a halt behind her, and he and Ryan tumbled out and ran to her.

Thank you, God!

Her father reached her first, saw the blood pooling on her blouse and her seat. “Dad! I dropped the gun,” she gasped. “Get it and go after him!”

He picked up the revolver. “Krista, you’re shot!”

“I’m okay…Please, don’t let him get away…”

Ryan opened the passenger side door, knelt on the seat, and pulled his belt off. He wound it around the top of her arm and made a tourniquet. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

“Yes!” she cried. “Please! Megan’s out there too.”

David checked the cylinder for bullets. There were seven left. Ryan pulled a pocketknife out of his pocket and cut her loose. Her hands fell.

“He went that way, Dad.
Go!
”

Megan’s knee ripped more with each step, but she tried to double back toward the road. She saw a broken branch on the ground and grabbed it in case she had to fight again.

But she didn’t hear him behind her.

When she heard the horn and the sound of the car, relief flooded through her chest. Someone was coming. She kept moving, trying to get back to the road, but she figured it was at least a mile away.

Gunshots fired back and forth…and she prayed that Krista wasn’t hurt. She heard her screaming. She was still alive.

Then she heard sirens, distant at first, moving closer, louder. Help was here. She turned and started back toward the dirt road.

In the woods, David saw a footstep here and there, and followed Hearne along the creek bed. Had he crossed? No, if he had, he would have seen his footprints in the mud.

He kept going, seeing broken twigs and smelling the scent of sweat. He heard barking from somewhere.

Hatred dug its cleats into his soul, driving him on to kill Ella’s killer, to destroy the man who’d just shot his only remaining child. Hearne would not get away. David would gladly give his own life to take down that monster.

And then he saw movement just ahead of him, heard a grunt. The barking grew louder.

Behind him, he heard sirens. But he couldn’t wait for the police. He had him now.

He raised Krista’s gun and moved closer. Hearne was at the edge of the creek bed, and two dogs were snarling and taunting him. Hearne tried to fire, but his gun was empty.

David froze, Krista’s .22 aimed at the back of Hearne’s head.

“Back…boys…” Hearne dropped the gun and held his palms out, as though he could keep the dogs back. “Good boy…”

But one of the dogs lunged, and the other followed. They attacked, mauling and tearing through flesh, ripping through Hearne with rabid, ravenous appetites. Hearne screamed and shook them off, fought and fell back.

David didn’t move, for fear of drawing their attention. For a moment he watched as Hearne was tortured, tormented, murdered slowly, as he’d murdered Ella and Karen…as he’d tortured Megan…as he’d intended to torture Krista…

It was too much to watch. The dogs foamed at the mouth, raged and tore as if Hearne’s own demons had turned on him. Unable to take any more of the bloody scene, David fired.

One of the dogs fell back; the other kept raging.

He fired again…once…twice…killing the second dog.

Hearne lay there, limp, bleeding from his face and throat, his arms, his legs…

Yes, there was justice. David took a step toward him, another…until he could see the man’s face.

Bloody eyes looked up at him, beseeching. David moved the gun, aimed between those filthy eyes…

“Kill me,” Hearne said through his teeth. “Just pull the trigger.”

David thought how it would feel to pull the trigger, to watch the life drain out of him. But it might be mercy for this perverted excuse for a man. It might put him out of his misery.

And David didn’t want that.

Instead, he kept the gun on him and called out, “I’ve got him! Over here!”

By the time the police had made their way to them, Henry Hearne was dead, like the dogs who lay beside him.

T
he Eagle’s Wings center had filled up today, and girls lined the tables in the big room. Anticipation hung in the air, but their faces were somber, and the usual chatter had fallen silent. Pachelbel’s
Canon in D
played softly over the speakers.

Krista stood at the front of the room, her arm bandaged and stabilized in a brace against her chest. “So we’re here today to create a memorial for someone we’ve lost. Whether it’s a brother who died…”

She looked at Jesse, and the girl looked down…

“Or a mother, or a father, or cousin…or a neighbor or friend. Or maybe you’ve had to say good-bye to some part of your life that’s died…”

Her gaze drifted to Megan, whom she’d invited to join in.

“You’ve brought symbols of those experiences from home. Be creative, be courageous, and honor them today. And as you’re working, thank God for the time you had them in your life.”

The girls got to work, and Krista looked at Jesse, who had a stack of her brother’s CDs that she was hot-gluing together into some kind of art piece. She glanced at Megan, who was making a memory box for some of her childhood things.

Krista went to her own table, where she had dozens of fragments of a broken mirror. It was the mirror that had fallen out of Ella’s purse the day she was abducted. Pieces of it had sprinkled the ground, evidence of a struggle. Since Henry Hearne’s death, the arrest of the two thugs he’d hired to help him, and the conclusion of Ella’s case, the police had returned Ella’s personal effects. In a Ziploc bag were the mirror pieces that symbolized darkness and evil. Krista had carried them for a while, searching for a way to repurpose them so that they honored her sister’s life. Finally, she’d thought of this way. She’d broken another hand mirror from Ella’s room to give her more fragments to mix with those from that horrible day.

Now, as the soft music played, the girls worked quietly, wiping away tears. Krista made a mosaic that she glued to a foot-wide floor tile. As she placed each piece, she imagined seeing Ella’s face in it, smiling back at her, fixing her pretty hair, rounding her eyes as she checked herself out.

She smiled through tears and kept working, carefully placing each piece of glass.

Later in the day, when the sun was about to set, she and her father stood at Ella’s gravesite. The tombstone had been
placed, and at the center of the stone cross was a one-foot square indention for her tile. David held the tile as Krista swept the adhesive onto the stone. Then she took the tile, knelt, and set it in place.

Getting up, she dusted off her knees. David put both arms around her, and whispered, “I love you, honey.” The two hugged desperately as they turned back to the stone. David kissed the top of her head, then read the inscription on the marker. “‘For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face…’—1 Corinthians 13:12.”

Krista wiped her tears. “Thank you, God, for letting us hang out with Ella for fourteen years. She was such fun.”

She heard footsteps behind her and turned to see Ryan approaching them from the car, holding three bundles of pink helium balloons. He’d taken time off from the new Internet security business he and Ian had launched to come here with them, but he’d given them a few minutes alone. Now he joined them, and she and her father each took a bundle of the balloons.

David cleared his throat. “Ella loved pink. If we would have let her, she would have dressed in pink every single day. Her room was pink on pink. Her bike was pink. Her toenails and fingernails were pink. Even her skin was a little pink…”

Krista laughed softly.

“Most of Ella’s days were good days, thanks to Krista, who saw to that.” He smiled at her as tears flooded his eyes. “You did good, honey. I couldn’t have raised her without you.”

“Thank you, Daddy.”

Ryan set his hand on the back of Krista’s head, stroking her hair. He kissed her temple as David went on. “So now it’s her mom’s turn to enjoy her. And she’s with Jesus, who
adored her already. He has the same photo albums we have. I know he’s thrilled to have her.” He drew in a long sigh, looked up to the heavens, and said, “Lord, please tell Ella we love her.”

Then he released his balloons, and Ryan released his. Finally, Krista let go of hers.

The wind caught them, scattering pink across the sky, lifting them toward the light. Krista imagined Ella looking down, waving as she scooped them up, laughing as she ran and tumbled across vast perfection. Joy seeped back into her heart.

When darkness came and memories crushed, Krista would remember the weightless wonder of pink dotting the sky…and smile for the joy of knowing Ella.