The Soul Summoner (The Soul Summoner Saga Book 1) (31 page)

It was enough to cause a stir of leaves in the woods behind us. "Who's there?" I heard Nathan shout.

Flashlights were going wild through the trees. I looked up to see salvation coming. There was just enough daylight for me to make out two figures rushing toward us as Billy tried to run. I stabbed at him again. This time, he dumped me off his shoulder and made a run for it. I felt my ribs crash into the unearthed roots of a large tree and thorns tore through the flesh that I had left along my right thigh. 

I rolled over just enough to see Billy lunge for the driver's side door of his truck. As he yanked it open, Warren fired a bullet into the door spinning Billy around and slamming him face-first into the dirt. 

Warren cautiously approached as Billy reoriented and tried to get to his knees. "Get your hands up!" he ordered with a voice so dark and menacing that it seemed to add to the darkness of the forest. 

Billy began to rise up slowly as Nathan shined his flashlight in my direction. His eyes locked on me and fear flashed through him. "Sloan!" he shouted. 

 Distracted by the sound of my name, Warren looked away for a split second. I couldn't even scream when I saw Billy raise his gun and fire wildly into the air. The gun fired again and Nathan dove in front of me. His airborne body seemed to explode in a different direction and land just out of my reach.

Behind him, Warren was down on one knee when he fired twice, sending Billy Stewart flying backward through the air. 

I scrambled toward Nathan and used both cuffed hands to roll him onto his back. "Sloan," he sputtered, splattering my face with blood. His eyes were terrified.

I couldn't even scream. 

"Nate, you all right?" Warren yelled as he approached Billy cautiously. "I need your 'cuffs. This guy's not dead. Sloan, can you hear me?"

I tried to scream but couldn't. 

I yanked Nathan's shirt up and found a bloody exit wound a few inches below his collarbone. I pressed my hands to it and looked desperately around for Warren.

He had his knee pressed into Billy's throat as he unloaded Billy's gun. "Nathan!" he yelled again. Finally, when he had no other choice, Warren reached into Billy's truck and pulled the keys out of the ignition. He locked the doors and slammed it closed. Then he shot Billy again in the foot before running across the road. 

When he reached me, visible panic washed over him. "Holy shit!" he yelled as he dropped down next to me. My eyes begged him to help Nathan first, but instead, he peeled off the sticky tape that covered my mouth. I fought to spit out the wad of fabric that I was beginning to suck down my windpipe. 

"Help him, Warren! He's been shot. In the back or the side. I'm not sure," I screamed.

"Back, near my ribs," Nathan sputtered.

"We've got to move you to the road," Warren said as he grabbed Nathan under his armpits. Nathan tried to help push with his feet, but he was having a hard time breathing.

When we made it to more level ground, Warren produced a knife and cut Nathan's shirt away. He rolled him until he found the bloody hole in Nathan's back. "Sloan, get me that tape," he instructed. 

I grabbed Nathan's flashlight and scrambled back to the grass. I found the discarded scrap of duct tape and carried it back to Warren. He was shredding Nathan's shirt with his knife. "Nate, I need you to exhale all the way." He handed me a strip of fabric. "Sloan, wad this up and seal off that hole in the front the best you can." 

The hole in the front of Nathan's chest was producing foamy, gurgling blood. I looked into Nathan's eyes and he nodded. "Do it," he whispered. Blood was drizzling out of the corners of his mouth.

"Don't you die on me," I threatened.

"Exhale," Warren told him.

When he had, Warren covered the fabric with tape. Then, he did the same thing on his back. "It's hit your lung, man," he said. "We've got to get you out of here."

"Really, Warren? No shit," Nathan gurgled.

I scowled. "This is not the time for a smart mouth, Nathan McNamara." 

Warren searched for Nathan's handcuff keys, then finally freed my hands. I couldn't feel my fingers at all. "Are you OK?" he asked me.

I wiped mud and sticky wet blood off my face. "The game warden. It's him. It's Billy Stewart. He's the killer." 

Warren's head snapped back with recognition. "Billy Stewart?"

I nodded furiously. "Yes!" 

"Other than the obvious, did he hurt you?" he asked.

I shook my head. 

Billy was attempting to crawl away from the truck when Warren and I carried Nathan over. "Do you want me to shoot you again?" Warren shouted. Of course Billy kept going.

Warren unlocked the truck and we carefully laid Nathan across the back seat. Then he looked over at me. "I'm going to need your help with the game warden."

I nodded. 

Billy had made it to the side of the road, leaving a thick trail of blood behind him. Warren kicked him in the side, toppling him over onto his back. He coughed up blood, spewing it in my direction as I painfully knelt down next to him. My ribs and every inch of my torn skin were screaming with pain.

Warren put his muddy boot down on Billy's throat.

I wanted to smack him across the face, but I couldn't feel my fingers. "OK, asshole. It's truth time," I said. 

He gasped. "I'm dying here."

I put my knee square on the center of one of the bloody holes in his chest, making him squirm in agony. "I certainly hope so," I hissed. "But right now, you're going to talk and tell me the truth."

"I'm not telling you shit!" He gurgled and spat blood on me.

Warren kicked him in the face. 

"Warren, can you tell how many victims this guy has on him?" I asked looking up to where Warren stood over us both. 

Warren studied Billy's face for a moment before finally looking back at me. "Twelve."

We had only been aware of ten missing girls, not twelve. "We know about the ones between here and Raleigh. Where are the others?" I pressed my knee harder into Billy's chest.

"Toccoa, Georgia," he whispered.

I looked at Warren. "Think that's it?"

He nodded. Warren's eyes were fierce and his jaw was set. "Should we just let him bleed out?" he asked.

I struggled to my feet. "No. I don't want to take any chances. Finish him."

Billy began to scramble as I turned toward the truck and Warren leaned down close to him. 

There was a loud crack of lightning, but I didn't even flinch.

19.

WARREN FOLDED DOWN the front passenger's seat of Billy's truck, and I sat on top of it as we navigated our way down the obscure mountain access road. I held pressure against Nathan's chest. His breathing was shallow and uneven. His face was pale and he was sweating, but he was alive. 

"Sloan, are you OK?" His voice was weak and raspy.

I shivered with the release of adrenaline through my veins. My chin had begun to quiver with shock. I did my best to force a smile. "I'm not as bad as you." 

"Would you mind filling me in on what the hell just happened?" he struggled to ask.

"That was the game warden. He's your serial killer." I pointed out of the back window of the truck where we had just left Billy Stewart's body lying by the road. "He kidnapped me this afternoon. What were you guys doing up here?"

Nathan coughed. "Warren called me and—"

"Let me do the talking, Nate," Warren interrupted, looking over his shoulder. "I found another body up here today. I called Nate, and he met me at the bottom of the mountain. We hiked in together and had just gotten here when we heard someone coming up behind us. Surprise, surprise. It turns out it was you and the serial killer."

"How did he kidnap you?" Nathan wheezed.

"He's an old friend of Adrianne's. We all went to high school together," I explained. "I ran into him at the jail today and invited him to come with me to see her. He offered to drive because he said he had to come back to the sheriff's office after lunch."

"You went with him willingly?" Warren asked surprised. "Could you not feel how dark he was? That dude was exactly what I imagined a serial killer would feel like."

I shook my head. "I ran into him at the jail, so I really didn't notice. I was already mid-panic attack, and I just wanted to get out of there as fast as possible."

"Damn," Warren said.

"But you knew him before, right? Didn't he freak you out before?" Nathan asked.

I shook my head. "No. I mean, we were kids back then."

"Before he committed his first murder," Warren said almost to himself.

I nodded. "It had to have been. I'm pretty sure that Adrianne told me he went to NC State to study forestry after he graduated from our high school."

"In Raleigh," Nathan wheezed.

I looked down at him. "I told you NC State was terrible."

He pointed at me with a blood-stained frown. "Hey!" 

"I'm joking. Anyway, once we were in the truck, he injected me with some kind of animal tranquilizer. Check in the door pocket next to you, Warren. I'll bet it's still there," I said.

Warren flipped on the light in the cab and looked between the door and his seat. He steered the truck with one hand as he carefully reached down and picked up a long, metal syringe. He flinched just looking at it.

"I passed out in the passenger's seat and when I woke up, I was chained to a radiator in an old cabin somewhere up in the woods," I said. "I was there for hours."

"He was waiting till dark when the woods were cleared, just like Warren said he would," Nathan said. "He was going to bury you there with Leslie Bryson."

"He was going to do a lot more than just that." I shuddered.

"You're sure you're all right?" Warren asked again. He reached back to touch my shoulder.

"Oh, I'm very far from all right considering I was just nearly raped and murdered." Another chill shot down my spine. "I'm pretty sure that my ribs are broken, and I doubt I'll be wearing shorts this summer."

"You've got to get checked out," he insisted.

I nodded. "I will." I looked back at Nathan. "He said that there were twelve girls altogether and that the other two are buried in Toccoa, Georgia."

"A team from Hickory found Colleen Webster just outside of Statesville today," he said.

"His mother lives in Statesville," I told him.

He nodded. "Is he dead?" Nathan asked.

"I'm pretty sure he bled out before we left," I lied.

He sighed and closed his eyes. "Good."

After a moment I looked back at Warren. "Weren't you wondering why you hadn't heard from me?" I asked.

"Well, when I got off the mountain I called but got your voicemail. I assumed you were busy. Then I hiked back up here with Nate and didn't have cell service," he said. "So honestly, I wasn't worried about you at all. I was afraid you were going to be mad at me for being gone all day."

"Well, I am a little mad at you." I pouted. "I was kidnapped and you weren't even worried."

"I was worried about you," Nathan croaked and winked up at me.

Warren and I would have laughed if it hadn't been so serious.

"We do have a problem," Nathan said. 

"How to explain me being there… again?" Warren asked.

"Yep."

"Maybe we'll luck out and Raleigh and Asheville won't connect the dots?" I offered.

Nathan shook his head. 

"No babe. This is going to be big," Warren said.

My shoulders sank. "The West Coast is sounding pretty good about now."

Warren smiled over his shoulder at me. "We'll figure it out. We are going to have to tell them that I was in those woods last week on purpose."

We rode for a while in silence. My hands felt each breath that Nathan struggled to take. I knew he was going to live, but I knew it was because of me that he almost didn't. If I had been right when I suggested to Warren that I might have a neutralizing effect on people's hatred of him, then the same had to be true for me. That night, Nathan McNamara dove in front of a bullet to save me. I wasn't sure how much truer love could get than that. Nathan rested his hand on top of mine and closed his eyes. 

Part of Nathan's lung had collapsed by the time we got to the hospital, so they took him immediately into surgery. I also got to see the extent of my injuries when I was rolled into triage. Apparently when I got out of the car at the emergency room, everyone thought I was the patient. I looked a bit like something out of a zombie movie. Warren stayed with me the whole time, and the hospital staff called my parents. 

The majority of the sheriff's office was waiting when we arrived at the hospital. That seemed to be standard protocol whenever a detective calls in his own 'officer down' distress over the radio. The sheriff himself walked into my triage room with his hands on his hips. 

"Miss Jordan, do we have you on the wrong payroll list? You keep showing up at my crime scenes," he said.

I raised an eyebrow and settled back into my hospital pillow. "If I am on the wrong payroll, you certainly don't pay me enough, Sheriff."

He laughed and shook his head. "I was worried when you didn't show up for the press conference today, but I would never have imagined this would be the reason."

"Well, I was really worried about all the disappointed hunters in the area so I decided to speed the case along," I said with a smile.

He rolled his eyes. "Well, mission accomplished."

"Did your guys go back up to Pisgah?" I asked.

He nodded. "We're up there, the state is up there, and the feds… You're going to have a lot of work to do when you get back to the office."

I groaned. "Well, I have nerve damage in my hands from being thrown around in handcuffs, so there may not be a whole lot of typing in my future for a while. I may just have to dictate your news stories."

"What else did the doctors say, if you don't mind me asking?" he asked.

"I have a concussion, two broken ribs, and I'm missing enough skin on my legs from being dragged that they asked if I had been pulled behind a car."

He cringed with sympathy.