Page 48 of Take Me to Church
I nod, sticking close to Simon as he heads toward the sound, keeping my steps as quiet as possible as we move through the leaves and underbrush. It’s slow going, and I’m just starting to give up hope when we hear the sound again. This time it’s more of a snort. Maybe a huff of frustration.
I understand completely.
Simon and I move a little faster, pushing through the scrappy saplings and brushy shrubbery as fast as we dare.
The huff of breath comes again, this time so close we’ve got to be right on top of it.
“Myra.” I whisper into the night, my voice as loud as I dare to make it. “It’s Christian. My friend Simon and I are here to take you to your sister.”
I hold my breath, hoping I haven’t given away both our locations, and wait, listening for any sign of where she might be. But that breath explodes from my lungs when a large form suddenly materializes from the shadows. A huge buck jumps directly into our path, head down, antlers pointed our direction as he makes the huffing noise I believed was Myra.
“Oh shit.” Simon’s reaction is barely audible beside me, but at this point it doesn’t really matter because the territorial, ticked-off deer is giving us away as he thrashes around, stomping one hoof against the patch of packed dirt between us. “What the hell do we do?”
“I would say we start by backing the fuck up.” I slowly ease away from the challenging buck, scanning the pitch-black space around us for some semblance of protection. “The more distance we can put between us and him, the better off we’ll be.” I put both hands up, palms out, ready to do whatever I can to protect myself just in case. “We should probably split up too. He can’t chase both of us, and maybe then we’ll have some chance of finding Myra.”
Simon nods. Jerking his head to the right. “I’ll go this way.”
“Good luck.” It’s the last thing I say before we each take off, forcing the buck to choose between us.
Our tactic is more successful than I hoped it would be. The sudden shift stuns the big animal enough that he stands there for a handful of seconds, giving us a head start. Unfortunately, he eventually decides he’s still pissed off, and starts tearing through the trees, hot on my heels as I run for my life. The moment brings back a vague recollection of a diagram showing deer kill more people than sharks. I always thought it was a result of them jumping out in front of cars, but right now I’m questioning that assumption.
The quiet of the woods is now gone completely, replaced by chaos all around. Hopefully, it works in our favor and Myra takes advantage, getting herself to a spot where we can get her to safety.
But once again my hopes for a positive outcome sink when I hear a voice in the distance. One that settles dread and rage in my gut.
“She’s running. To the east.”
I might not remember the darkness of the night, but I sure as hell remember the darkness of that man. Hearing the booming voice of Pastor Ansel Parks, Lydia and Myra’s father, makes me reconsider my objective. Makes me weigh the benefits of changing my target. It’s dark enough out here he would never see me coming. Wouldn’t know I had him until it was too late. He would be wiped from the face of the earth, setting Lydia and Myra free of the fear they will always feel as long as he’s breathing.
“I hear it too. I’m headed right for her.”
The second voice halts any plan I might have formed, reminding me that while I might decide to start hunting them, they won’t stop hunting Myra. And getting Myra out of here safely is the most important thing.
So even though I want to keep running, both away from the buck still hot on my trail, and toward the men who deserve every evil thing I could do to them, I stop. Holding perfectly still. Refusing to even breathe as the team of men tear through the woods like fucking elephants.
My intent was only to confuse them, but luckily, it also confuses the buck. After skidding to a stop, he lets out a wailing scream, and changes his own trajectory based on the sounds. I stay completely still as he jumps up a slope, zeroing in on the same target I just abandoned.
Hopefully he finds what he’s looking for and the number of deer-related fatalities goes up by two.
Once I’m sure the buck is far enough away not to be pulled back my direction, I slink through the shadows, moving slow and silent as I try to regain my bearings. I scan my surroundings, hoping to see something familiar. A spark of recognition from the past I’ve spent so long trying to forget. Hell, I’d even take a case of déjà vu right now. Something to let me know I’m where I need to be.
But all I see is fucking trees.
So I do the only thing that makes sense, and resume my search, moving away from the continuing noise, hoping to simply put as much space as possible between me and the hunting party looking for Myra.
I smile as a deep voice hollers, the sound of surprise and fear echoing around me.
“What happened?” From the second man’s question, it would seem my antlered friend crossed paths with Ansel. I hope his whole life flashes before his eyes, and he recognizes it won’t be his maker he meets when his days are done. It’s an unrealistic dream, but I can still hope. Especially since I’m pretty sure it would make him shit his pants.
Suddenly the clog of leaves and branches gives way, sending me stumbling out onto the gravel shoulder of the road we came in on. It’s a frustrating discovery, but at least now I have some idea of my location. Since I’m pretty sure I haven’t passed the ravine Lydia described, I head away from where we parked, easing into a jog as Lydia’s dad and the man with him continue yelling. I make it about a hundred yards before I hear steps on the asphalt. I stop, sliding into the tree line as I wait to see who’s heading my way.
The footsteps come closer and I nearly jump out of my skin when Simon moves in at my side, his hand resting on my shoulder the only thing keeping me from tumbling out in front of whoever is coming our direction.
The steps are awkward, a stumbling collection that makes me sure they belong to more than one person, but it’s hard to tell if they’re running or walking. A scuffing, sort of dragging sound, muddies any sort of steadiness there seems to be.
When three forms come into view my heart stutters to a stop.
“Christ.” I run directly at the trio. “What in the fuck are you doing out of the car?”
