Forgotten (30 page)

Gunshots.

I froze.

A third, terrifying shot sounded. Saul
compressed himself against me and in one crazy, fluid movement spun
us off the rock, and onto the ground. We landed with a thud, but
unhurt.

Where had he learnt to do that?

“Don’t make a sound,” he murmured.

My rampantly
growing fear made sure of that. I sat up and leaned against the
boulder. Terror now replaced our earlier passion, as I began to
register the full gravity of the situation. We were defenseless
against someone with a gun, with only a boulder between
us.

I glanced to
the solid shrubbery to my right. It seemed so far away. I glanced
to the left. Nothing but a rocky cliff. And to our front, only more
open space. We were trapped. “Who ?” I murmured.

Saul was
semi-kneeling in front of me. He signaled not to say another word.
“Keep very still, very quiet. Don’t move from here,” Saul
mouthed.

He
pulled his mobile from his back pocket and
quickly pressed a key. Within seconds, someone answered. “Ethan,
get up here fast,” Saul said in a low, muted voice. He then
disconnected the call and handed me the phone. “When I tell you to
run, that’s precisely what I want you to do. Straight into those
bushes and down the hill. If you get lost, or anything, press this
key and you’ll get Ethan; he’ll find you.”

Panic hit me. “I’m not going without
you.”

“
Claudia,
just do this for me. Okay?” He pulled up one leg of his jeans and
began ferreting for something strapped to his ankle. He released it
and flicked it opened. It was a switchblade, a sizeable one. I now
understood the need for his climate challenged clothing.

“Do you know those are illegal in this
country?”

He screwed his face. “So is speeding.”

Before I
could respond to his blasé interpretation of the law, I spotted an
ominous red mass developing on the sleeve of Saul’s white
shirt.
He had been shot.
My chest tightened and I stumbled out his
name.

He looked at
his shirt and then back to me. He cupped my chin with his hand.
“It’s just a graze. Trust me.” He then brushed his lips against
mine. “Quiet now, I need to listen.”

He propped
himself up against the rock, switchblade in hand, ears glued. I
cringed at the increasing red stain. I wanted to help him. I didn’t
know how. I could only do what Saul asked.

Time passed in slow motion. Before I could
determine what happened next, Saul had whipped himself around the
rocky edge. It was difficult to establish the subsequent mixture of
sounds, the abrasive movements, the distinct thud of muscle butting
muscle, but thankfully, it didn’t last long. Silence ruled
again.

I feared what I’d see if I looked over the
top, but I didn’t need to. Saul’s voice, anxious but strong, yelled
for me to get the hell out of there. Not wanting to abandon him, I
hesitated. But a second, more potent roar from him jolted me to my
feet. I sprinted as fast as I could, in the direction of the
vegetation. Once there, shrouded by the bushes, I stopped and
crouched low.

I spotted
Saul on his knees. One of his hands gripped a rather dazed, bald
man; the other held his menacing switchblade near the man’s throat.
I struggled for breath, more stunned by the terrifying expression
on Saul’s face. It was hard, malevolent, leaving me with
little doubt that he would slice this man’s neck
if needed.

“Drop the gun,” Saul ordered. The man
laughed. Saul brought the blade closer to his neck. The man
shrieked and at once released his gun. Saul immediately kicked it
away.

“You’ve cut my fucking throat, you bastard,”
the bald man sniveled.

“
It’s a
nick, you lowlife. Now, tell me who you are and why you’re shooting
at us.”

I wasn’t
sure if the man was brave or simply stupid but he laughed again.
Saul tightened his grip. The man spluttered, threw up his hand.
“It’s the girl we’re after, not you. You’re just
collateral.”

Who were
these people? Why did they
now
want me dead? I dropped my head to think.
An act that proved to be a huge
error.

When I looked back up, another man had
already materialized from the bend. The mammoth-sized individual
wore a tight tank shirt that accentuated the colossal muscles of
his body, the rock hard tendons bulging in wave-like contours along
his beefy arms. His face was scar-ridden and appeared every bit as
hostile as his rifle. He bellowed to Saul to drop his weapon.

Saul didn’t
move.

The man
moved in closer. “I won’t say it again, Reardon, drop
it.”

The tip of the barrel pressed against Saul’s
back. Saul paused some more, before finally hanging his head. The
aimless tumble of his knife signaled defeat.

“On your knees, hands high on your
head.”

Saul stooped
down and locked his fingers flat to the back of his lowered head.
He then lifted his eyes. They had changed, sort of like the angry
Saul back at Zephyr, but with far more… I don’t know… focus. And
the way they just latched onto the mammoth’s eyes without even the
slightest blink, I found positively disturbing.

The
old
saying
if looks could kill
came to mind,
and I suddenly imagined the mammoth nothing more than a macabre
mound of pulverized dust. I shook the thought away and instead
returned to Saul facing two armed thugs, defenseless and with the
scarlet threat on his shirt widening.

Shit.

I
didn
’t have the first idea what to
do.

“
I know what
you’re trying to do, Reardon, eyeballing me like
that.
” The mammoth appeared amused. “But
it ain’t going to work.”

The other
man sniggered
. “Yeah, we know all about
the likes of you, Reardon.”

But Saul
stayed silent, maintained his chilled fix.

The bald man checked the blood on his
throat. “The bastard sliced me,” he grumbled.

“
It’s your
own fucking fault
,” the mammoth said.
“What were you doing sneaking up on him anyway? Haven’t you learnt
anything?” He bent down, pulled at Saul’s bloodied sleeve and then
groaned. “You shot him? You fucking idiot. Orders were to kill only
the girl.”

“I didn’t think it mattered.”

“
Of
course
it bloody matters.” The mammoth
shook his head. “So where
is
the girl?”

“
Dunno,” the
bald man answered with a casual shrug. “Reardon told her to run.
She could be anywhere by now.”

“What? Fucking hell, can’t you do nothing
right, you moron?”

The bald man mumbled something; the tone
suggested nothing savory.

The mammoth ignored him and focused on Saul.
“Where is she?”

“Didn’t you hear your friend, the moron,
here?” Saul’s voice projected that same dagger-like detachment as
his expression.

One corner
of the mammoth’s mouth slid upwards. “Ah, Reardon, always the smart
arse.” And with that, the mammoth’s considerable-sized boot, with
considerable-sized force smashed into Saul’s wound. Saul reeled,
but only for several seconds. He straightened back up, returned his
hands to his head and resumed his mortal stare.

I felt sick. Instinct told me to dash out to
him.

Instinct also ordered me not to. Those
animals would have us both, and their job completed.

What to do
.

I recalled
the clarity of mind I’d summoned in the bougainvillea wilderness
and tried to
re
-summon it. But under the
circumstances, it proved impossible. I
thought of Ethan and wondered where he was.
Perhaps I should use the phone… find out… hurry
him along…
something
.

“I’m not fucking stupid,” the mammoth
continued. “You would’ve given her instructions. What were
they?”

Saul took his time. “You know what females
are like, they rarely follow instructions.”

There was no humor on the mammoth’s face
this time. A second, more brutal kick followed. Saul coughed out a
loud groan as he doubled over yet again.

I closed my eyes. I didn’t know how much
longer I could restrain myself without risking my whereabouts.
Conversely, Saul was remarkably controlled. He returned to his
earlier position and locked in on the monster as before.

What was he doing? Or more the question,
why?

“
Stalling
ain’t going to help you.
And if you think
your boyfriend, Sloane, is coming to your rescue, think again. He’s
been taken care of.”

What? No
, not
Ethan.

My
breath
came in short, flimsy wisps, my
skin drenched with adrenalized moisture, my feet scraping, tapping,
readying for lift off. I mentally paced up and down trying to find
another way out, but my mind was too scrambled.

Shit.

“I hear she’s a beauty, this little princess
of yours,” the mammoth droned on. “My friend here and me, bet we
could have some real fun with her when we get her.”

I knew what the mammoth was doing. And
judging by the slight wince on Saul’s face, it was working. Saul
was probably right in thinking his feelings for me weakened him
somehow. The mammoth would eventually wear him down.

I had to do something.

And it had to be something pretty damn
good.

December 27, 2010

6:35 pm

I TURNED
MY
back and closed my eyes.

I tried to push away all thoughts from my
head, the panic, the fear, even the wonderful passion that Saul and
I shared moments ago. I tried to push away the ugly idea of Ethan
laying hurt or worse still, dead. I tried to push away Saul’s
bullet wound.

But again, it wasn’t easy.

Shit, shit, shit.

I
know what you’re
trying to do,
the mammoth had
said
.

Which was
what exactly? If it was to fluster the mammoth, it had
failed
; that much was obvious.
I looked back over my shoulder. There was no
denying the obsessiveness of Saul’s
eyeballing.
So why keep the
pretense going if it wasn’t working?

Unless….

I studied Saul again, allowed my zany idea
to mature.

And liked it.

Saul was
waiting. Waiting for an opportunity
,
where one or both men would be
distracted. I weighed up Saul’s ability to overcome them. I
examined the size of the mammoth. I examined the deepening, rose
color of Saul’s shirt. At Saul’s best, the mammoth looked no easy
feat. In Saul’s present condition, it could be downright
problematic.

His capacity to overpower the two, virtually
impossible.

I needed to get one of them away.

I explored the nearby area and took note of
the shrubs, dead wood, and rocks. I looked back at Saul. His face
was whitening, but his eyes were like solid steel, lodged tightly
on his captor.

I hunted for the necessary props to my
whacky idea, a large rock and a long, thick piece of wood.
Thankfully, due to the incessant drought, the wood was completely
dry. I positioned my foot above it and gave it one almighty whack.
It split almost in two, its cracking sound echoing throughout the
nearby scrubland.

“What was that?” Moron asked, looking in my
direction.

The mammoth didn’t remove his gaze from
Saul. “Why don’t you go and find out. The girl could still be in
there and this time, don’t make any stupid mistakes.”

Moron thrust his stubby, middle finger in
the air and then turned towards the scrubs.

“
Looks like
your little princess may have hung around, Reardon,” the mammoth
mocked. “What, she couldn’t leave you? How adoringly sweet, how
devotedly stupid.”

Saul’s assassin-like eyes maintained their
position.

The moron, on the other hand, with his gun
outstretched appeared nervous.

Not as nervous as me, I bet.

I slowly,
quietly collected the rock, raised it above my head…
ready
.

Moron
entered the scrub cautiously at first, swinging his weapon from
side to side. I waited until he was far enough into the brush,
until he was only yards away. I hesitated. What if my plan didn’t
work; what if all I did was worsen the situation?

Fortunately, for me, two things
happened.

Moron, on discovering the snapped branch,
bent down to investigate it more closely, making himself a far more
accessible target. Another longer, louder groan from Saul pumped a
surge of anger-driven adrenaline through me.

I tightened my grip on the rock. And with
one gigantic swing, thrust it onto the back of Moron’s baldhead.
Moron howled and stumbled to his knees. He swayed and rocked for
several seconds, then fell face down on the ground.

“What the….” It was the mammoth’s snarling
voice. He turned in the direction of the scrub.

That was all Saul needed.

Saul straightened swiftly and with his knee
bent, crashed his foot between the mammoth’s legs. The mammoth
roared, dropped his gun. Both hands rolled around his injury.