Stolen Read online

  Stolen

  James Hunt

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  10. 2 Hours Ago

  11. 35 Hours Left

  12. 34 Hours Left

  13. 32 Hours Left

  14. 31 Hours Left

  15. 30 Hours Left

  16. 28 Hours Left

  17. 27 Hours Left

  18. 26 Hours Left

  19. 25 Hours Left

  20. 24 Hours Left

  21. 24 Hours Left

  22. 23 Hours Left

  23. 23 Hours Left

  24. 14 Hours Left

  25. 13 Hours Left

  26. 12 Hours Left

  27. 11 Hours Left

  28. 10 Hours Left

  29. 8 Hours Left

  30. 6 Hours Left

  31. 5 Hours Left

  32. 4 Hours Left

  33. 2 Hours Left

  34. 1 Hour Left

  35. Six Weeks Later

  Copyright 2019 All rights reserved worldwide. No part of this document may be reproduced or transmitted in any form, by any means without prior written permission, except for brief excerpts in reviews or analysis.

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  1

  A light gust of wind brushed across the grassy, rolling hills that stretched to the horizon. The blades of grass wavered like the waves of an ocean, fluid and endless. Stars twinkled against the pitch black sky. No buildings, no roads, no people. It was quiet. But not for long.

  Heavy-panting breaths grew louder with each new breeze. Legs sprinted through the knee-high grass. Oil stains smudged the runner’s cheeks, which only grew more slick from the sweat that cut through the rough stubble along his jaw. A name tag pinned to his chest flapped wildly with each hurried step: Reese Coleman, New Energy Inc.

  Reese twisted at the waist to look behind him. A trail of matted grass stretched back in the direction of an amber red glow that encroached the night’s tranquility; gas runoff from the fracking sites. He squinted, a mixture of sweat and oil dripping into his eye. His left hand rose in a knee-jerk reaction to wipe it away, and the moment of blindness cost him his footing.

  Grass and dirt flung upward as Reese skidded across the ground. Palms and right cheek scraped against rocks as the landing knocked the wind from his lungs. The sting of impact lingered as he lay on the bed of crushed grass, and despite his brain’s command to rise, he lay still.

  The soil was cool against the heat and sweat of his body, and his muscles reveled in the opportunity for rest. But when he opened his eyes, the gleam of his wedding ring caught the moonlight and stars above. He fisted a clump of dirt in the moment of grit and pushed himself up.

  Black soil crumbled from his shirt as he remained on all fours, only his back and head visible above the tall grass. The whites of his eyes glowed in the darkness as he scanned his surroundings. A breeze cooled the burn on his cheek. He saw nothing.

  A gunshot shattered the quiet of the night, the echo masking the shooter’s location, and Reese flattened himself against the earth. His heart pounded against the ground, beating wildly. After a moment, Reese rose to his hands and knees, then crawled. Tears had cut well-worn paths down his cheeks. Every few hundred feet he’d look behind him, but he never stopped.

  Another gunshot. A geyser of dirt erupted less than three feet to his left, and Reese abandoned his crawl. He sprinted through the grass in an adrenaline-induced panic, mumbling pleading nonsense to himself. A primal instinct of survival had taken over, but the adrenaline could only push him so far before his muscles melted into a soft jelly. Two more gunshots thundered in quick succession, and Reese screamed.

  A vicious sting bit into the back of his right shoulder, and the force of the bullet knocked him to the ground. With his left arm, Reese pushed himself to his side. Any movement from his right triggered a knife-like pain. Blood trickled down the back of his arm, and the cool breeze suddenly felt cold. Muscle spasms ravaged his body, but he managed to rock himself to a sitting position. He craned his neck and saw that the dark figure of the shooter was less than one hundred yards away.

  Reese whimpered then pushed himself to his feet, fear the only source of energy his body had left to burn. His pace slowed, and his right arm had gone completely slack. Any attempt to run was nullified by crippling pain.

  Another gunshot, and Reese shuddered, but this bullet skipped to the right. He kept his eyes on the horizon, unsure of where he was running to. The only thing keeping his feet shuffling forward now was the chance for one more breath, one more painful, gut-wrenching beat of life.

  The next harsh bite of the bullet connected with his left leg, and with a groan, he collapsed. Another warm trickle sprouted from his hamstring as he lifted his face from the dirt, his lips chapped with soil and grass. He rolled his tongue over the gritty texture and tasted the warm metallic blood that pooled in his mouth. Reese stretched his thumb to his ring finger, and when he pressed his skin against the metal, it felt cold. Everything was cold. A blanket of ice covered his body.

  The sky of stars above was suddenly blocked by the looming figure that had chased him across the open plains. Reese didn’t know why he had thought he could have outrun him. When the man wanted something done, there wasn’t anything that could stop him. “Please.” The word left his mouth in a dying whisper. He raised his left hand. The gold gleam of his wedding ring had shaded to a dark crimson. “I didn’t say anything. I swear.”

  The lever on the rifle ground metal and spit an empty shell from the chamber. In the moonlight Reese saw the shine of the rifle’s stock, a rich wood he couldn’t identify. A dirty hand loaded another bullet and then aimed at Reese’s head.

  The harsh North Dakota environment provided enough natural enemies to kill a man: bears, wolves, the frigid cold of the winter. But he’d always thought he’d die on the oil rig, some type of gas bubble that would blow him off the face of the earth.

  Oil. The next great boom, right here in his small little town of Barta, North Dakota. Of course, the mess he got himself into was just as much his fault as the oil company’s. The goddamn money was just too good. A few more months, and he would have had the down payment ready for his and Kelly’s first home.

  Reese returned his gaze to the dark void of the barrel. “Just do it,” he said, coughing up blood that burned his esophagus. “I’m already dead.” But despite the request, the rifle was lowered, and the figure turned and walked away. “Make sure she’s okay!” Blood splattered over the front of his shirt as he yelled and lifted his head. “Please! Make sure no one hurts Kelly! You owe me that much—” The vicious spate of coughing returned, and what was left of his strength disappeared.

  Tears leaked from the corners of Reese’s eyes. The sky above slowly blurred, and the stars dimmed. His mind offered a few fleeting images of his past, some of which he remembered, most of them unrecognizable in his final moments. One last breath brought his chest up, and then his body lay still.

  2

  The steam from the shower filled the bathroom in a smoky haze. The air was hot and heavy. A thin layer of moisture covered the sink’s faucet and the top of the toilet. The mirror had fogged over, along with the shower doors, revealing the silhouette of a woman.

  Lena Hayes closed her eyes and let the warm water roll down her body. She’d already washed, and she lingered under the faucet, enjoying the calm before the stress of the day began. She crossed her arms over her chest, grabbing hold of her shoulders. Her left hand rubbed against the raised scar of the tattoo she had removed a few years ago, one of the many reminders of a past she desperately wante
d to forget.

  Beyond the noise of the steady stream of water spewing from the showerhead, the clank of dishes and mumble of voices penetrated the bathroom door, which suddenly opened. “Honey, breakfast is ready.”

  Lena removed her face from the cascade of water and wiped her eyes. “I’ll be out in a minute.” The door shut, and Lena grabbed hold of the crook of her left arm, an involuntary response whenever she was nervous. She rubbed her finger over the light bumps that still lingered after ten years, these scars more poisonous than the mark on her back.

  Before becoming completely pruned, Lena shut off the shower and reached for a towel. Still dripping, she exited the bathroom, a cloud of steam trailing her toward the dresser, where she dried off quickly then wrapped the towel around the top of her head, where it remained until she was fully dressed.

  With her hair still damp, Lena finished her makeup and then reached for the jewelry box, where she pulled out a small flag pin. She examined it in her palm for a moment, admiring the intricate details of the tiny stars and stripes. Then, carefully, she placed it on the lapel of her jacket, straightening it out in the mirror.

  Even after six months she still felt a certain awe whenever she wore that pin, along with a healthy dose of fear and respect. There was a reason she won the election last fall, and those reasons were finally coming to fruition in just a few days. If she couldn’t deliver, though, all would be for naught.

  On the way to the kitchen Lena passed her two daughters’ rooms, and was glad to see that both of them had risen early enough to make it to school on time. “Morning, everyone.”

  Mark turned around from the skillet on the stove, a washcloth over his right shoulder and the morning stubble still fresh on his face. “Good morning, Representative Hayes.” He smiled and gave a wink. It was how he’d addressed her every morning since she was elected, despite having asked him to stop.

  “Hey, Mom!” Kaley, Lena’s youngest, shouted through a mouthful of eggs and toast, then smiled and revealed her front left missing tooth.

  Lena kissed the top of Kaley’s head. “Morning, sweetheart.” When she looked to her oldest, Gwen, the teen was already buried in her phone. On her way to the coffee pot Lena reached over and pushed Gwen’s phone down on the table, forcing her daughter to make eye contact. “And good morning to you, too.”

  Gwen rolled her eyes and immediately returned her attention to the electronic addiction. “I’m going to get a ride to school with Lauren and Greg today.”

  Mark set a plate of eggs and bacon at Gwen’s place at the table. “Do you think you’ll need a ride home?”

  “No.” Gwen looked at the plate of food and grimaced. “I don’t eat meat anymore, Mark.”

  “Since when?” Lena asked, steam rising out of the top of her coffee mug as she poured.

  “Since now.” Gwen slid off the chair and headed to her room, navigating the house without ever looking up from her phone.

  Mark raised his eyebrows and then scraped the food off the plate and split the bacon with Kaley. “More for us then, I suppose.” He took a bite and gave Kaley a wink, who smiled at the extra piece.

  Still munching on her bacon, Kaley looked over to Lena. “Are you going to take me to school today?”

  “Not today.”

  “Why not?” Kaley puffed out her lower lip and lowered her head.

  “Aww, sweetheart.” Lena walked over and scooped Kaley out of her chair, hugging her tightly. “Why don’t I pick you up after school? Would you like that?”

  Kaley beamed a smile and nodded. “Can we get pizza on the way home?”

  Lena laughed. “Maybe.” She set Kaley down and patted her on the butt as she scooted off to her room. “Hurry and get dressed. You don’t want to be late!”

  Mark set a plate of eggs and bacon for Lena at the table and looked up. “You know she’s been looking forward to you taking her more.”

  “I have a meeting.”

  Mark frowned. “I didn’t see anything on your calendar.”

  “It was last minute.”

  “What’s it for?” Mark reached for the salt and pepper.

  It was a question she’d hope he wouldn’t ask, but it wasn’t something she was going to hide from him. “I’m meeting with the families at the hospital.”

  Mark stopped his fork on the way to his mouth, but then quickly shoveled the eggs down, chewing a little harder than normal. “Isn’t that what the town hall is for?”

  Lena joined him at the table, trying to keep the conversation casual. A fight was the last thing she needed right now. “I just have to finalize a few things with them. Make sure they’re going to show up for the vote. It’s the reason why I ran for office in the first place.”

  “I haven’t forgotten the past two years, Lena.” Mark kept his head down, shoveling his eggs and toast into his mouth faster. With his cheeks full and the plate empty, he left the table and dumped the dirty dishes into the sink, the plastic and metals clanging loudly. When he finally turned around he swallowed the rest of his food, and his expression softened.

  Lena approached wearily and then gently massaged his shoulders. “I know how difficult everything has been on you and the girls. But it’s just a little bit longer. After the vote in a couple days it’ll just be a normal job from nine to five, and then hanging out with you and the girls in the evening.”

  “They miss you, you know,” Mark said. “Even Gwen, though she’d be the last person to admit it.” He pulled her hands off of him and held them firmly. “And I don’t think stepdad Mark is going to be able to navigate Gwen through womanhood on his own. It was never my strong suit.”

  Lena kissed his lips, feeling the scratch of his morning stubble on her skin, and then hugged him. “You’re more capable than you know. I wouldn’t have been able to do this without you.”

  Mark wrapped his arms around her. “I’m just ready for all of it to be over. Kaley and Gwen aren’t the only ones that miss you.”

  Lena shrieked and laughed when he pinched her rear. She slapped his arm, giving him a look up and down. “I’ve missed a few things too.” She winked as seductively as she could on her way toward the door, grabbing her briefcase on the couch where she’d left it the night before. “Tell Kaley we’ll get pizza from Tony’s. And tell Gwen we’ll put extra bacon on it.”

  “God I love you,” Mark said.

  “Love you too.”

  Outside, the front yard of the house opened up into acres of undeveloped land with their home smack in the middle of it. A well-worn car path stretched from the house all the way to the main road half a mile away. She climbed in her sedan and started the car. She took a breath and gripped the steering wheel, fighting the butterflies in her stomach. She eyed the glove box and scratched her fingers over the cloth in the crook of her elbow on her left arm. She closed her eyes, shaking her head. I don’t need it. When she opened her eyes she started the car and shifted into drive. Just a few more days.

  The inside of the trailer was crammed with trash and broken furniture, dwarfing the already tight space. The cabinet doors in the kitchenette hung from loose hinges, and the yellowed countertop aged the Winnebago, which had peaked in the seventies.

  The squeak of bedsprings rocked in time with moans and heavy breathing in the back. A cowboy hat rested on top of a dirty pile of clothes, and the noise ended with a low grunt and a high-pitched squeal. Sheriff Jake Cooley rolled onto his back, his bare chest sweaty and his cheeks red. He looked to the woman in bed as she pulled the sheets up to cover herself. He picked his watch up off the floor and checked the time. “I gotta go.”

  The woman curled her knees into her chest as she sat propped up against the back wall of the trailer. Curly blond hair with dark-brown roots fell over her forehead, which was still caked with makeup from the night before, as she grabbed the pack of cigarettes on the nightstand. When she reached for the lighter, Jake snatched her wrist before she could touch it.

  “Don’t do that while I’m here.” He tossed
her hand away. “It already smells like shit in this dump. Don’t make it any worse.”

  “Helps pass the time.” She folded her arms across her chest, her eyes glued to the police vehicle parked out in the grass. “You gonna stop by any more this week?”

  Jake buttoned his pants and shirt before he reached for the gun holster and belt that hung from the coat rack mounted on the wall in the corner. “Depends on how crazy it gets. That town hall meeting has everyone riled up.” He tucked in his shirt and adjusted the badge on the front. “I’ve already had to jail two protestors and three oil workers for creating a disturbance.”

  “It’s your sister who has everyone riled up.” She reached for the small diamond ring on the nightstand and pinched it between her fingers. “Reese won’t stop talking about it either.” She set the ring down and then crawled to the edge of the bed seductively. “He’ll be working night shifts all this week.” She walked two fingers up his arm and onto his shoulder, where she rested her chin, and let the bedsheet fall. “Just so you know.”

  Jake abruptly reached for his hat. “Gotta go to work.” The door slammed behind him, and he took a deep breath of the brisk morning air that filled his lungs, his mood immediately improved once out of the stink of the trailer. He climbed inside his truck and started the engine. He let it idle for a moment and then looked to the lever-action rifle, its stock coated with a shining walnut finish. He removed it from the passenger seat and returned it to the gun rack behind him. He opened the glove compartment and pulled out a pack of gum. He tossed a piece in his mouth and shifted the truck into drive, leaving the trailer in the middle of nowhere in Dunn County. His county.