Dead Man's Land by Jack Patterson (digital e reader .txt) 📕

Prado nodded. “And how are we going to do that now? Your phone isn’t working?”

“We’ll have to get a little creative.”

Cal surveyed the area and spotted a small trail about twenty yards away at the bottom of a ravine. “Let’s use the trail. We won’t have to be so quiet and nobody will be able to see us from the road.”

Prado nodded, following Cal toward the path.

Cal stopped and held up his hand. “Look! Look!” he whispered. “Over there.” He pointed toward a clearing where a doe and her fawn were munching on some grass.

“Que linda!” Prado said. He pushed his way past Cal to get a closer look, yet when he stepped on a branch that snapped, the deer glanced around and bounded away.

“They don’t stay in one place for very long—unless you have a spotlight on them. And even then—” Cal let his words hang as he decided against adding a commentary to everything that was happening.

“Will we see more of them?” Prado asked.

“Perhaps. If we’re quiet.”

“So, how are we going to get creative and get out of here? Are you going to steal a car?”

Cal chuckled softly. “We’re not going to become criminals ourselves when we’re the ones being chased—not unless it’s necessary for our survival.”

“Why don’t we just ask someone for help?”

“It’s not that easy. People that live out here don’t like to be bothered. And if we went into someone’s house right now and turned the light on, we might as well be announcing where we are to the men who are after you.”

Prado nodded in agreement. “So, we just try to survive?”

“We’re going to get our hands on a phone and call the one woman who can help us without fear of getting caught.”

“Who?”

“My wife, Kelly. She’s brave and she’ll do anything for me.”

“I wish I had a woman like that,” Prado said.

“Did you leave one behind in Cuba?”

Prado shrugged. “Sort of. I’m still in love with her, but she only talks to me because of Isabel. If it weren’t for our daughter, I’d probably never see her again.”

“But you think you’ll see her again?”

“I hope I see both of them again very soon, but I need more money to bring them over.”

“How much did it cost for you to come over?”

“Ten thousand dollars and twenty percent of my salary.”

“It cost fifteen thousand each for Isabel and Liliana.”

“Well, if we make it out of here alive, I’ll help you get them over here however I can.”

“Mucho gusto,” Prado said.

“De nada.”

They trudged forward for a few more minutes until a floodlight at a house just ahead off the trail flickered on. Next came a loud raucous, halting their conversation.

Cal heard one man yell at the other. It sounded like “Ortega!” to Cal, but he couldn’t be sure.

Then a screen door slammed hard against the frame of the house.

“Come on!” Cal whispered. He scrambled up the hill to get closer to the clapboard house and looked over his shoulder to make sure Prado was in tow. He remained in the shadows until he saw an old man rush down his driveway toward the road shaking his shotgun with both hands above his head.

They stopped a few yards away from the house and crouched behind a woodshed.

“Stay here no matter what,” Cal said.

Prado nodded.

Cal got up and dashed toward the front of the house. He slipped inside and located the old man’s cell phone on the kitchen counter. It wasn’t a smart phone, but it had texting. The clock on the phone showed it was 3:50 AM.

He snuck back outside and ran around to the back of the house.

Better to get caught outside in the woods than inside.

Cal pounded out a text message with his thumbs and sent it to Kelly:

Phone’s dead. Stranded. Running from crazy gunman trying to kidnap a Cuban player. We’re safe but I need you to come get us. Don’t trust anyone. Go to the 26 and 7 junction in the Umatilla National Forest near Baker City, OR. We’ll be waiting for you. Love you!

He waited a few seconds until another message popped up on his phone.

Neighbors will watch Maddie. Leaving now.

Cal exhaled and typed out one final message.

Thanks. Don’t message this # again.

He stood up to go put the phone back inside the house when the old man fired his gun. Cal froze. He contemplated taking the old man’s phone, but he doubted the man had any other way of communicating with the outside world.

Cal slunk back down against the side of the house and held his breath, quietly praying that the man wouldn’t see him.

Thud, thud, thud.

The man’s boots clunked on the porch steps as he went back into the house.

“I’m gonna call the Ranger for sure now,” he muttered to himself before the screen door slammed behind him.

Cal swallowed hard. He got up and slid the phone onto the porch. He returned to his position and waited as he could hear the man rummaging around inside for the phone.

The man opened the door and stomped outside. “There you are,” he said. “I must’ve dropped you on my way out. Stupid people ruining my peace and quiet.”

The screen door banged against the doorframe, followed by the slamming of the main door. Then the click of three locks.

Cal smiled. Never can be too sure living out here.

He looked around and saw no one. Satisfied that he wouldn’t be seen, Cal darted back toward the woodshed to tell Prado the good news.

Cal slid down in the dirt to avoid detection. Then he looked up in horror.

Prado was gone.

CHAPTER 11

BY DAYBREAK, WALLER AND HAMPTON had spent several hours combing the area where all the supposed raucous had occurred. But there was nothing. Not a sign of any suspicious vehicles or characters roaming the roadside.

“I feel like this is someone’s idea of a sick joke,” Hampton muttered.

“Certainly not mine,” Waller said.

Waller’s phone buzzed with a call from his boss. He showed the screen to