So�This Is Montana� Ch. 28
Ranch hands John Williams and Steven Cartwright stared out the opened window for any sign of the young man who had escaped them just moments ago. After several tense seconds, John pulled back from the window and shouted angrily while at the same time kicking at the nearby wall. Steven quietly stood back, wincing as he watched John�s boot repeatedly pierce the white plastered wall. He wisely kept his mouth shut knowing that it was better having John take his anger out on the wall rather than on himself. He knew that the older man�s temper would soon be spent if given time.
In the meantime, JC rolled as close as he could to Lance�s still figure, pushing his back against the unconscious form in an effort to shield him from the men in the other room. He had heard their words�Justin had somehow escaped.
�Help�he�ll find help�somehow,� JC thought for a fleeting moment. Those hopeful thoughts vanished at the sound of the loud, angry and vulgar shouts coming from the next room. JC strained to look at Lance over his shoulder and realized that he was the only person who could protect his friend who seemed, for the moment to be either heavily dazed or possibly even unconscious�it was too difficult to tell from his position and without the ability to shake him. Although he knew that with his being tightly bound hand and foot, he could do very little in defending the younger man behind him, but that was not going to stop him from at least trying. With hands trembling, JC reached behind him, his fingers probing Lance�s left side and, with a quiet, choked sob, relief washed over him when he felt the blonde�s steady breathing. Tightly, JC clinched his eyes shut in an effort to block out his growing panic as he desperately struggled in his awkward, bound position to push Lance toward the bed behind them.
�Come on, Lance�get with the program�move�move�move�move,� JC chanted to himself as he pushed Lance�s limp, dead weight inch by inch.
�Find help�gotta find help�find help�help�help,� the young man chanted with each step he took�his thoughts racing just as quickly as his heart rate while his feet carried him further away from the ranch house. Tears threatened to blind his vision, which was already hampered enough by the surrounding darkness. He swiped at the tears that did escape then winced at the feel of the rough grit that coated his hands from having to push himself up off the ground after stumbling and falling several times. Just as he was about to head further into the trees, the sudden sound of the gunshot caused his feet to falter and he spurred around and slid to the ground.
�No�no�no�no,� he said between the fearful, choked sobs that could not be held back.
�What do I do? What�what�please, dear God�tell me what to do!� he cried out as he harshly wiped more tears away with the backs of his hands.
�Let them be okay�please�let them be okay�please!� he mournfully wailed into the raging wind as it whipped through his curls. Sorrowfully, he dropped his head into his hands and pulled painfully at his hair, feeling torn in what to do. His heart told him to return to the house but his head urged him once again to his feet. Shakily, with sobs threatening to choke away his already labored breathing, Justin stood up then took several stumbling, uneven steps all the while looking at the house in the distance behind him.
�Don�t look back�don�t look back,� he said to himself, knowing that in doing so he would be more tempted to turn around and help his friends. He took one more final glance over his shoulder before turning to face the trees ahead.
�Go�go�find the road�find the road�gotta find help,� he told himself, never realizing that in his panicked state, he was not even close to heading in the right direction. Pushing himself from tree to tree, Justin�s frantic gaze flew wildly about him as he ran deeper into the forest and further from where the expected help could be found.
At the sound of the gunshot, Selma had immediately jumped to her feet from the chair that she had been sitting in and raced toward the door of Mr. Benson�s study while Chris had squeezed his eyes shut in desperate prayer for the others.
�Guard them, Father�keep them safe�let them be okay�please��
For several anxious seconds silence reigned in the room before Selma turned to the figure lying on the floor and smirked.
�I guess my Johnny must have taken care of one your little friends.�
Chris did his best to ignore her, not wanting to give her the satisfaction of seeing fear in his eyes, but he knew that he couldn�t conceal his anguish as various scenarios of what was happening to his younger brothers bounced about in his mind�his imagination was running wild and he didn�t have the strength to stop it from doing so.
In an effort to gain some control over his emotions, he decided to attempt to help his friends in the only way he thought possible�he needed to be free of his bonds�he could do that�he had to at least try. So, using only careful, slight movements, he tested the bindings holding his hands behind his back all the while not taking his eyes off Selma, who was still standing in the doorway of the study, her back now turned to him. His movements sent waves of pain through his arms, which were battered and bruised from the beating he had received from John and he had to struggle to keep from moaning out loud. He tried to breathe through the pain, but found that his chest hurt as much, if not more than the rest of his body and for a brief instant, he almost gave up, but the image of the others needing his help cause him to try again.
�Okay�stay calm�don�t give up�you�re not a quitter�take small breaths, Kirkpatrick�small breaths,� he told himself in an effort to calm his quaking, pain-shattered nerves. He had to concentrate on getting to the others and freaking out over the pain and what condition that they might be in was not going to get him anywhere.
�Okay�breathe�breathe�now�try again�� he urged himself as he once again tried to twist his wrists in an effort to loosen his bindings.
�Tight�they�re too tight. Gotta be a way out of this�somehow�gotta help the others�think�think�look around�look around, Kirkpatrick,� he thought, blinking back the tears of frustration that were threatening to fall as he glanced from Selma to the desk, then back to the woman, making sure that her attention was truly drawn away from him. He kept his gaze locked on the woman�s back for several seconds then made up his mind to begin looking in earnest for something that would help him in freeing himself.
�Gotta find something to cut the ties�find something�anything!� his mind screamed as his gaze flew about the room in his continued search for anything sharp enough to help him out of the situation. Unfortunately though, his search did not last long enough.
�Oh, no you don�t.�
Selma�s voice startled Chris and he jerked back in surprise when he found himself to be staring straight at the older woman�s legs. Swiftly, she reached into her apron pocket and pulled out her remaining scarf then stepped over Chris�s form. She bent over him and quickly tied the cloth tightly over his eyes.
�Mmmph!� Chris screamed mutely at the white-hot flash of pain that pierced his skull as Selma pulled the ends of the cloth while tying them tightly together. The pressure against his bruised and swollen eyes was unbearable and he writhed about at the new agony that assaulted his already battered body. His painful moans did nothing in the way of earning sympathy from Selma�she easily ignored the sounds and went back to her position by the door in anticipation of her son�s return.
Without the ability to see, Chris felt a sudden wave of hopelessness to descend upon him and was unable to stop the tears from escaping his concealed eyes. The only consolation he felt was that Selma was unable to see his tears since the cloth soaked them up as quickly as they left his eyes.
�Oh, dear God�please help us�please!� Chris silently pleaded as he bowed his head to the carpet in defeat.
Charlie Reynolds�s pickup bounced over the many ruts on the uneven tire tracks that coursed their way through the lower pasture behind the ranch house, having thought better of coming up the main road. Behind him were two more pickups carrying the men that Selma had told him to bring. He had found it rather surprising that the extra men had no qualms of taking care of the young men at the ranch�none at all.
Selma�s phone call had been one that he had been halfway expecting and dreading at the same time every since the young men had come to the ranch for this visit. He had never really liked Ralph Benson that much and had been somewhat relieved when he had heard that his ranch had been sold to an outsider�that is until he heard about the young man. From what he had learned from Selma, he had seemed nice enough, but due to the new ownership, he knew that the days of cattle rustling that John and Steven were doing were numbered. Little did he know that he would be drawn further into the problem and he struggled with the thoughts that as a doctor he was to give and sustain life�it didn�t matter whether the life was animal or human�it was a life, none the less. Now�John wanted him to cause injury�possibly take lives if need be. When it came down to it�he wasn�t exactly sure which direction he was going to ultimately head.
With a shake of his head, Charlie looked up to see darkened the ranch house looming ahead in the distance as a flash of lightning lit the night sky.
A clap of thunder caused the figure lying bound in the living room to awaken with a start, causing him to wince at how stiff his muscles felt.
�Mmm,� Joey moaned through his cloth gag, not fully comprehending what had happened nor his present situation as he slowly opened his eyes to reveal bottom of the couch in his direct line of sight.
�Floor�I�m on the floor,� he thought in amazement. �What in the world? What happened?�
With slow, painful movements, he attempted to bring his hands up to his aching head, but became further confused when he found that his limbs would not obey his mental command to move forward.
Tentatively, he once again attempted to move his hands and found once again to be met with resistance. He slowly twisted his wrists and felt a painful rubbing sensation and it was only then that he came to the realization that there was something wrapped tightly about his them. It was also at that point the memory of John coming at him, his hands raised in attack came crashing back to mind and he winced at the ferocity of the encroaching memory.
�Mmmph�mmmph,� he grunted as he attempted to pull against the bindings in the hopes of breaking them or, at the very least stretching them, but he found that the knots holding the ropes in place were too strong and unyielding.
Frantically, Joey gazed about him in an effort to see if he was the only person in the living room. After a frantic search, he found the answer to his question.
�Alright�alone�I�m alone in the living room�okay�gotta get lose�gotta get lose�come on, Fatone�you can do it...�
With his eyes now accustomed to the dark, Joey searched from his position on the floor for anything that would help him in cutting his way out of the ropes holding him virtually immobile but he came up empty handed.
�Okay�need to move�need to move,� he chanted in his mind before beginning the arduous task of inching his way toward a desk he knew to be at the other side of the room. He felt fairly sure that there had to be something inside it that would help him. With fierce determination, Joey ignored the burn of the rug under his bare arm as he pushed himself across the room. He knew that there was a letter opener just on top of the desk�he was going to make it there and get himself untied�he had to.
Justin continued to run, stumbling through the dark forest. The sound of his harsh and gasping breaths were periodically drowned out by the sounds of an approaching storm. The surrounding trees bent and bowed to and fro against the billowing winds while the distant sound of thunder competed against the blindingly bright flashes of lightning that periodically punctuated the black night sky. Needing to catch his breath, he stopped running long enough to lean heavily against a tree.
�Gotta find help�gotta find help�help�� he whispered between heaving breaths of air as he bent over, resting his hands on his knees as his head hung low. It was then that he realized that his sweat pants were torn at the knees and he felt a wet, stickiness on his hands when he straightened back up, but he couldn�t be bothered by the cuts and scratches covering his arms, face, legs and feet�he had to find help and the road that would lead him to that aid.
�Where�s the road? Gotta find the road.�
He looked all about him, the night sky becoming daylight bright with lightning giving him brief, sporadic views of his surroundings, but he found those snippets not helpful enough. Nothing looked familiar in the darkness�nothing at all. He could only hope and pray that he was heading in the right direction.
�Gotta move�gotta get going,� he urged himself, pushing away from a thick tree trunk. He took several uneven, wavering steps, his bare feet screaming in protest, before tumbling over a log and sliding uncontrollably down a steep embankment slick with rotting leaves and pine needles. Just as he reached the bottom of the slope, he felt a sudden burning fire slam deep into his right side.
�Ow!� he yelped at the sudden, painful sensation�his breathing becoming more labored as he felt waves of pain washing over him, threatening to overwhelm him. He reached for his side and was horrified when his hand met with the jagged end of a stick.
A scream of pain escaped his lips when his hand made contact with the wood, causing it to jostle about within his flesh. He looked down at his side just as a flash of lightning lit the sky and was horrified to find a branch about a half-inch in diameter hanging from his side by about four inches.
�Oh�dear, God�help me�no�no�please�not this�not now,� he cried in out anguish as the reality of his situation became clear in his pain fogged mind.
�What do I do? What?� he cried out as he bowed his head down to the ground all the while trying to be careful not to touch the piece of wood in his side.
�Gotta get it out�gotta get it out,� he whispered between harsh, painful breaths, not even sure if that was the best thing to do, but he had to keep moving�had to keep looking for help. He knew that he couldn�t move as quickly as he had been with the limb protruding from his body, but at the same time, the thought of yanking the limb out caused his tears of pain to transform themselves into ones of fear�fear of feeling more pain.
�No�I can�t do it�I can�t�please�help me�dear, God�help me!� he cried out loudly above the sounds raging about him�his voice filled with anguish and fear for not only the others who were still trapped in the house but also for himself�out in the middle of the woods, not even sure of his location.
He took several deep, painful breaths before taking hold of the limb. Tears of fear began falling in earnest�he didn�t want to hurt�he was scared�scared of what would happen if he was able to pull it out and even more fearful of what might happen if he was unable to.
�Okay�this is it�you can do it�think of the others�come on�okay�one�two�three�now!� he shouted out before using the last of his waning strength to pull stick from his side.
�I don�t like the look of this weather, Tom,� Donald Crater said as he watched the distant night sky light up with each flash of lightning. The storm seemed to be heading their direction, causing a slight degree of anxiety for the investigator.
�Yeah�we�re not in the best position are we?� his partner, Thomas Claire replied with a wry grin on his face. The pair was sitting high upon a hill overlooking the eastern pastures of Hickory Hill Ranch. They were hoping that the ranch hands would make a move with the coming storms, but so far, they were seeing nothing below them. Suddenly, a strange sound was heard intermingled with those of the approaching storm�something akin to a scream.
�Did you hear something?� Thomas Claire asked as he stood from his knelt position, turning about in search for the source of the sound.
�Yeah,� Donald replied as he also stood and began to turn around in a slow circle in an effort to locate the origin of the mournful yell. �It�s kinda hard to tell though with the thunder and lightning being so loud.�
�Maybe we�ll hear it again.�
�What do you think it��
�Sh�there it is again,� Thomas said, interrupting the other. �That was a scream, Don,� he said as he quickly bent over and retrieved the pair of night binoculars that they used to observe the late night activities of the ranch hands.
�It�s coming from the tree line�over there,� Donald said pointing toward a thick stand of trees about 100 yards away. Thomas slowly followed the direction that his partner was indicating and adjusted the focus on the binoculars. At first, he saw nothing then a flash of lightning revealed something that caused the man to take a double glance.
�Bobcat or cougar maybe?�
�Yeah, maybe�wait a minute�I see something�no�make that someone,� Thomas said in amazement as he watched a figure stumble just inside the trees then fall heavily to the ground without making any effort to get up. Suddenly, he realized that he had to be looking at one of the young men staying at the ranch and a cold shudder coursed its way down his spine.
�Come on�someone�s down, Don,� he said while beginning to run as he grabbed his gun from the holster hanging from his shoulder while Donald did the same as he ran to catch up with Thomas.
JC fought hard against Steven Cartwright, straining to see the figure being carried over the shoulder of ranch hand, John Williams, who was walking several paces behind the pair as they made their way down the hallway toward the living room.
Desperate to catch a glimpse of Lance, JC grunted into his gag as he pulled and strained against not only the ranch hands iron grip but also the ropes that were wrapped tightly about his wrists and ankles. Unfortunately, his efforts only served to anger the older man and whose shoulder he was slung over and, seconds later, JC found himself to be struggling against the darkness encroaching the periphery of his vision after being slammed forcibly, head first, into a wall before being dropped roughly to the floor.
Moaning through his thick gag, JC glanced up through blurred vision at the angered, red face of the ranch hand then numbly shrank back in fear when the man raised a hand to hit him. Seeing the young man cowering before him caused a small smirk to form on Steven�s face and slowly he lowered his hand then began to yell angrily at the young man not realizing that a dull roar buzzing in JC�s head blocked out his angry words. JC closed his eyes and tried to shake his head in an effort to push the roaring out of his but only succeeded in becoming even dizzier.
Before the wooziness had the opportunity to pass, JC winced as the man shook his limp body violently enough to cause his head to snap back so hard and fast that he was sure that it would simply detach itself from his shoulders.
�Stop it! You�re wasting time!� John yelled as he shifted Lance�s limp form on his shoulder. �We need to get these two into the living room with that other one and move that one from the study�then we need to go take care of Mitch and Troy.�
Steven stood up from his bent position over JC and he lashed out with his booted foot, connecting with JC�s right kneecap. Red-hot pain whipped through the young man and earnest tears coursed their way down his cheeks as he felt himself being lifted over the ranch hand�s shoulder once again. A wave of darkness began a renewed assault on JC�s senses and he moaned against the fuzziness that was fast encroaching on his vision. He made a small attempt at pushing it back but found the effort too great and slowly he spiraled into unconsciousness.
Pete slowly turned off the highway onto the long, dirt road leading to the ranch some five miles away. For more than an hour, he drove about aimlessly as he thought about what was going on in the investigations against John Williams and Steven Cartwright. He was so lost in thought that he didn�t see the three pick up trucks in the bottoms below the road until he happened to glance in that direction.
�What�s going on there?� he said out loud and he quickly skidded his vehicle to a stop then killed the headlights of his truck, hoping that he hadn�t already been spotted.
For several seconds he watched the small convoy head in the general direction of the ranch house all the while wondering who was driving the vehicles.
�Something�s up�but what?� he asked before making a decision. �Tom and Donald are up in the east pasture�better go let them know about this.�
Without turning on his headlights, Pete carefully drove down the road about another hundred feet then took a sharp left through a gate in the fencing. Once he felt safe enough, he turned on his headlights and accelerated toward the last location that the investigators had told him they would be at.
�What happened, Johnny?� Selma asked her son as she watched him unceremoniously dump Chris�s bound form onto the living room floor beside the three other similarly bound figures.
�That Timberlake kid got away,� he spat out�his anger still evident in his tone of voice.
Joey, who was barely conscious due to the fact that John and Steven had practically beaten him senseless when they found him at the other end of the room working on his ropes with a letter opener, looked up at the three standing over them and inwardly grinned.
�Go, baby J�go, go,� he inwardly cheered before a wave of pain washed over him causing his eyes to slowly shut before lapsing into a state of semi-consciousness.
�What are we going to do with these four?� Selma asked, her voice cutting through the tense silence in the room temporarily pulling the two ranch hands� attention from the young men.
�We�re going to take one of them out to Mitch and Troy�use him to get those two to do what we want them to,� John answered as he gazed down at the figures lying at their feet.
�Which one?� Steve asked as he also looked down unsympathetically at the young men.
�Grab the skinny one, Steve�Chasez,� John replied as he pushed JC�s limp form with the toe of his boot. The other ranch hand stooped down over the limp figure and turned him from his side to his back, causing JC, even in his unconscious state, to give out a small moan as Steven�s large, weatherworn hands grabbed him by the arms and roughly hoisted him into the air then over his shoulder.
�Here, Mama,� John said, handing over a loaded pistol. �If one of the them tries anything, use the gun�they�ll either die in here or out in the western pasture. Won�t make any difference to me at all.�
�Yes, Johnny,� Selma answered as he put the pistol in her apron pocket then sat in the chair that her son offered to her.
�We won�t be too long. If Charlie gets here first, send him out to the bunkhouse. We�ll need some of that chloroform he�s bringing.�
�Yes, son.�
With that said, Steven, carrying JC�s limp figure over his shoulder, followed John out of the house.