Microsoft Word - Assassin Master final for conversion Read online

  Carrie walked steadily, unsure where to head, knowing she must not be caught. The many branches she moved from her path showered her with water;

  the ground foliage soon had her socks and running shoes sodden. She was fearful of what lay around each turn, behind each tree. Though exhausted, she was driven by determination.

  Roll would be furious when he woke. If he found

  her he would hit her again, or far worse. His single backhand had not only felt like he had cracked her head, it brought terrible images to mind from an early childhood best forgotten, fearful memories she could not face while feeling so alone and desolate. Her face still hurt, her lip swollen. Three nasty bruises adorned her body from her impact with the hard wooden floor; small abrasions on her ankles and wrist were visible from her bonds.

  Carrie could hear movement in the brush ahead of

  her and she swallowed nervously. The barest glimpse of the moon shone down, casting an eerie shadow in front of her, right before its illumination disappeared behind a dark cloud. She stopped to listen, frozen to the spot, her heart pounding, but the sound gradually faded until she heard it no more. She wondered where she could possibly be. The air did not smell like home. It wasn’t any one thing she could put her finger on, yet she knew Roll had indeed smuggled her out of her own country and into the unknown—she was doubly lost.

  Her teeth began chattering and she wondered if it was from fear or cold. She draped the blanket around herself, tugging on it when it snagged on branches or

  brush as she moved forward. Finally, with some misgiving, she slumped against the base of a large coniferous tree, taking what shelter she could under its heavy branches. She could walk no further. Her tired body and mind felt drained. She huddled in a tight ball, wondering if she had been walking in circles. She hoped not.

  The night air had turned frigid against her partially clad body. The saturated ground seeped its moisture into her clothing and flesh, and she was soon soaked through. Her body shivered, her teeth clattered. She tucked her exposed legs more tightly under the blanket.

  Small pine needles from the forest floor jabbed the underside of her thighs, into her tender flesh, with her movements. Her exhaustion battled her fear of the night, and won. She closed her weary eyes, her body pressed against the hardness of the tree; she lowered her head to hide in Roll’s jacket, and slept

  fitfully.

  * * * *

  When dawn ascended, Carrie looked around herself in wonder. In the distance she could make out ice-capped snowy mountains, a most impressive sight to behold. The wooded area was dense, the massive trees stunning in size. Never having been out of her own country or territory, she wondered if she were in the Rockies or Swiss Alps. Ruefully, she realized Roll could have flown her anywhere in the world.

  Shaking her head, allowing herself to feel her overwhelming amazement, she gazed at her surroundings, turning, trying to take in every sight at once. She felt a great relief the cabin was nowhere to be seen. She could neither see nor smell any telltale wisp of smoke to indicate human existence.

  Shivering with the slight nip in the air, she opened

  her water bottle to drink, and munched a few crackers as she wandered off. Her body felt stiff, her muscles cramped. Her eyes darted left to right, taking in as much of the immediate area as possible.

  Carrie walked for hours, following the shoreline of a small lake, climbing her way over fallen logs, pushing through heavy foliage, wary of slipping on the numerous rocks; she didn’t want to end up in the freezing, subzero water. She didn’t know what else to do. She realized Roll had taken her to a very secluded place. Undoubtedly the human population would be nonexistent for miles and miles.

  But she felt if she were to die, she would die free.

  Right now, right here, she had a slim chance. With Roll all she would have was bondage or death. She shuddered at the thought. Images of a captured life assaulted her thoughts. How could she survive if owned by a man? What would he do to her? What would he expect her to do with him? Head bowed in despair, she trudged onward.

  * * * *

  Tired, Carrie sat amidst bush and fallen logs

  shielding her from the lake, which now sat at a distance. Her legs ached from the steady climb she had been forced to endure. As the dense bush closer to the lake became impassible, her only alternative would have been to swim in the icy cold water. She had chosen the easier path and hiked upwards.

  She pulled a tin of brown beans from the

  backpack and hacked at it with a sharp rock. She managed to open it, but cut herself in the process. She ripped at the blanket, noting it was already torn in spots, and she wrapped her bleeding hand tightly. She wolfed down the entire can's contents, careful of the sharp edges, and greedily sucked on her fingers.

  She buried the can and rose to her feet. With a heavy sigh and heart, she began her walk anew.

  * * * *

  Roll was in a panic. When he woke and discovered the girl was gone he thought for one frantic moment he had been robbed. He then noted a blanket and food were missing. Roll determined the girl had left of her own accord. He had reached for his windbreaker, determined to find her, and was dismayed to note she had walked off with that too.

  Roll raced from the cabin. He had to find her fast.

  He berated himself for not locking the door, but they were in the middle of nowhere. He should have explained their situation to the girl. She was in grave danger. There were dangerous wild animals out roaming the densely forested area.

  If she could run from him, she obviously didn’t want to die. She would be eating again if she thought to take food. She would get better, but not if a bear or wolf pack made off with her. She was completely defenseless. She could die of exposure. The nights in this area were decidedly frosty, as the cold weather still battled the changing season.

  A light cover of frost had bathed the foliage when he had emerged outside; a few puddles sparkling in the early sunlight were glazed over with a thin sheen of ice. Roll pulled up short. What if she tried for the snowy mountains? Even though she was in possession of his jacket, she was barely clad in her small shorts and tiny shirt. Even her running shoes had seemed petite with little white anklet socks.

  “Damn,” he muttered.

  Distracted, Roll heard a familiar noise in the distance. His hand came up to shield his eyes from the glaring sunlight. A plane was landing in the lake and heading towards his small dock.

  Knowing the plane, he raced for the water craft. No sooner had the door opened than Roll was grasping the emerging large man by the arm, pulling him along, not even acknowledging the scar-faced pilot before he once more took off into the blue sky.

  “Tyr! Thank God. I need your help and I need it

  now,” Roll said, dragging the younger man along.

  “Nice to see you, too,” Tyr said, having no choice but to follow the haggard man.

  “What are you doing here, anyway?” Roll said, stopping to catch his breath and running a harried hand across his face.

  “My brother and his wife and their new baby went to visit friends. I decided to come fishing,” Tyr replied.

  Roll looked at the man before him. Not

  necessarily a good friend, yet decidedly not an enemy, he was indeed happy to see him. Tyr was as tall as Roll, if not taller, yet his build was different. Tyr’s wide expanse of chest strained against his dark grey t-shirt with powerful muscles. His brown hair curled at his ears and his blue, sparkling eyes were fastened on him brightly. A dark grey revolver sat easily strapped to his shoulder. Roll knew it was loaded, and knew the man before him could shoot the wings off an airborne deer fly.

  “What’s got you all hot and bothered?” Tyr asked, chuckling.

  “A girl,” Roll began a bit breathlessly.

  “Yeah, that’ll do it all right,” Tyr said, still chuckling.

  “No, no, my target is missing,” Roll explained.

  Tyr stopped smiling, his lips settling into a fine
grim line. “What do you mean, missing?”

  “I’m not on assignment, she was a side job. She

  wouldn’t eat, wouldn’t drink. She was dying right in front of me, I swear. Yet, when I woke up this morning she had vanished. Tyr, you’re a tracker. We

  gotta find her. She’ll die out there,” Roll said. He didn’t like the way Tyr was looking at him. Losing your target once in your grasp was dangerous to everyone. What if she didn’t die out there? What if she was found out there?

  “We better get started. Hurry up, grab your gear and let’s move,” Tyr said.

  “Thank you,” Roll said, relieved. He knew Tyr would find her. Tyr was an expert tracker, right up there along with his brother, Wolf. When the two of them worked as a team, nothing was safe.

  The men moved off at a steady pace.

  * * * *

  Carrie was exhausted. She breathed heavily and tried to ignore the pain in her throbbing hand. She tried to ignore the many new bruises she sported from falling down so frequently on the slick rocks and logs she climbed over. Roll’s jacket had become shredded on the sharp branches, not offering much protection. Her exposed arms and legs were so bruised and scratched she felt like a poster picture for battered housewives.

  Carrie slumped onto a fallen log, shivering. Though the day was clear, there was a nip to the air, and her clothing remained damp from exposure. She drank the last of her water, putting the bottle into her backpack, hoping to fill it at the lake.

  She again wondered how long she would be forced

  to walk before hunger set in and she ran out of food.

  Shuddering, she wondered if a wild animal would get her and rip her apart. Carrie wrapped her arms around herself. She felt like a small, helpless child again, wanting to cower in a corner, rocking while shaking, hands covered over little ears while still hearing everything, until the worst was over.

  Carrie had never known her father. Her mother

  had told her she didn’t know who he was or where he was. It hadn't been long after her mother had married her stepfather before he had begun beating the both of them repeatedly and had taken great delight in doing so. Her mother had crawled into a bottle of booze and never emerged. When she had died of alcohol poisoning, her stepfather had dropped Carrie off on a Children’s Aid doorstep, like no more than an unwanted sack of garbage, and never looked back. She had been only seven.

  She remembered how angry and frightened she had been. The social worker had given her a special blanket and some juice, and had driven her to a home housing six other children, telling her she would be fine. Carrie had been lost in the crowd until she almost burnt the house down by accident.

  All she had wanted was some lunch. No one was

  listening to her, as usual. She had watched the older girls work the stove; it hadn’t looked too difficult. She had turned the gas burner up high. The bacon had sizzled and spit, then the fat spilled. First the burner had caught fire, then a dish rag, then the wall and

  ceiling. Even before the smoke disappeared, Carrie had been whisked away and labeled a troubled child. Angry, she had decided to live up to it.

  She was grateful when Sue and Will had come into her life. No matter how much of a hard time she gave them, they never gave up on her. When she had entered university, Will had somehow gotten her a scholarship, which not only paid for her tiny, clean apartment and furniture, but a beat up yet running old car a friend of Will's kept tuned and going free of charge. She had money for clothes and books and food. She even found extra to put away for a rainy day.

  Carrie wanted her own children someday, a whole houseful. Never would she ignore one of them. Her shoulders slumped. She would never have children if she couldn’t make her way out of this hellish situation. Roll had stolen her dream, and she was consumed with fury. She had kept herself whole for the right man. She didn’t have much money, but she could offer her new husband her own special gift. She would have told him he was worth waiting for.

  Angrily she swiped at moist eyes, refusing to give in to useless tears; they had never helped her in the past. She rose and once more determinedly set off.

  * * * *

  “Well?” Roll asked anxiously.

  “She spent the night here,” Tyr informed him. He was squatting down near an indentation in the

  ground.

  Tyr had been tracking her easily. The girl was either a novice or so innocent she had no idea anyone would be able to track her, it was like trailing a flashing neon light! He found pieces of bed sheet and parts of a windbreaker on sharp branches. The girl was undoubtedly tired. She was not moving quickly, nor at a steady pace. He could tell she had fallen often, and fallen heavily in a few places. Tyr rose and set off, following a vivid trail. It was not long before he uncovered the buried can of beans.

  “Hmm,” Tyr said thoughtfully, rolling the can between his fingers. He frowned.

  “What is it?” Roll asked, apprehensive.

  “She’s cut herself,” Tyr mumbled, noticing the dried blood on the can.

  “She slit her wrists?” Roll shrieked. “Damn it! My

  money’s gone for certain.”

  Standing and giving him a condescending look, Tyr shouted, “No, stupid, she was just trying to open the damn can.”

  “Oh,” Roll said, feeling sheepish and somewhat

  relieved.

  “She won’t be too far. She’s tired and weak. We’ll have her by or shortly before nightfall,” Tyr said, again moving off, following her trail.

  Roll followed closely. “I hope so. I want to get back and plan to be away by morning. This girl has been a real pain in the ass! The sooner she’s in

  someone else’s possession, the better!”

  * * * *

  Carrie continued to move along steadily. She was at an almost vertical slope, looking down over the quiet, uninhabited lake. It would be getting dark soon, she noted. She coughed again with some dismay, placing her hand to her aching chest. She had been doing a considerable amount of coughing since waking.

  She lifted a shaky hand to rub at her warm forehead. She nibbled a few more crackers and kept her eyes on the lookout for a place to rest for the night. She gazed longingly at the lake, needing a drink to soothe her sore throat. Once more, she looked down the large hill. The incline was steep and, seeing a small opening leading to below, she noticed if she sat on her behind she could drop to the small ledge and scoot sideways to more rocks. If she could continue a sideways decline instead of straight down, she would be safe enough.

  Carrie dropped her backpack and blanket down first. She discarded Roll’s shredded jacket off to the side with some disappointment. It was useless, as the plastic now hung in tatters. She sat and, taking a deep breath to gather her courage, she dropped the few feet to the ledge. Upon landing, the ledge gave way and, screaming shrilly, Carrie plummeted farther. She grabbed at roots and sticks, anything to stop her fearful rapid descent, to no avail.

  Terrified, Carrie knew the trail she was on would come to a steep drop-off and she would fall onto the numerous rocks by the lake. She would either be killed or break something for certain. Neither thought was appealing.

  Desperately she made a last, valiant effort and managed to capture a large root, just as she ran out of hill. Her arms were yanked brutally up as she plummeted over the edge, and for a split second she almost lost her tenuous grip. She dangled more than twenty feet over the jagged rocks and water below, whimpering softly. She did not cry out for help, knowing no one would come to aid her. She tried pulling herself up, but when she moved she only managed to pull part of the root out of the ground. The loose dirt fell over her face into her eyes; her hands were sweating profusely.

  “Don’t move!” came a loud, commanding voice. Surprised, Carrie looked up and saw with relief a

  large and powerful man, already coming for her, and

  attached to a long rope.

  “Please help me,” she cried up to him. “I’m slipping! I can’t hold on muc
h longer.”

  “I’m coming, sweetheart, just don’t move,” the

  man yelled. He repelled down the distance she had slid.

  Carrie sobbed with relief when the man grabbed her wrist in his strong grip. He pulled her easily to his chest, wrapping a snug arm around her heaving

  middle, and she clung to him desperately.

  “Please help me. I was kidnapped by a man who wants to sell me into slavery. I want to live. I want my own family someday. Please don’t leave me. I’m so frightened, please,” she begged.

  “You’ll be fine, honey. My name is Tyr and I’m going to help you,” he soothed. He pulled her closer. From his appreciative look, it was apparent he liked what he saw. “Let’s just get you to the top first. Then we’ll talk.”

  He kept a firm hold on her as they climbed. She

  was terribly weak and he carried her most of the way. Her arms grasped at him, trying her best to maneuver the steep incline in her weakened condition. Her feet slipped and skidded beneath her. She knew if it weren't for her savior she never would have made it. She collapsed against him when they reached the top, almost completely spent.