Rescue

We’re gonna be walking, but not far. You get an idea to run, you go ahead. I got both gun and knife, and depending on how far you get into the trees, I’ll use one or the other. Move a little forward but bent over, so you don’t hit your head again.“
    I did.
    “All right, you should dear her now. Stand up and walk forward.“
    I started, stumbling and almost falling before I caught the cadence the foot tape would allow.
    “You’ll get used to it.“
    Again, like he’d done this before. I tried to push that thought away.
    “A tad left now.“
    It seemed to be even ground, the smell of pine and peat coming through the burlap.
    “Now a tad right. More. Good.“
    Another thirty-four paces, which I felt were important to count because I couldn’t do anything else.
    “Okeydokey, stop right there.“
    I stopped.
    There was the sound and air swish of Severn moving by me out of reach, the other senses kicking in to offset the loss of sight. I heard footfalls on wooden steps, then the sound of a wooden door swinging open. Then more footfalls coming back down. Three steps, if he was taking them cleanly.
    “All right, we’re gonna climb three steps. You first. You’re gonna have to be careful going up or the tape’ll make you fall on your face.“
    Like he’d learned that from the mistakes of others, too. I felt myself sweating even though the air temperature through my clothes felt like the low fifties.
    “Go on.“
    I moved slowly forward.
    “First step’s just ahead of you.“
    I lifted left, right to climb it, then repeated twice more.
    “Stop.“
    Again him coming up and around and past me.
    “Now walk to me, slow.“
    I did.
    “Good.“
    Then he hit me again on the side of the head.
    “Caught you on the way down this time.“
    I don’t know what brought me around. Severn seemed sure I was conscious, so maybe I’d moaned or rolled my head.
    “You might be wondering how come I hit you that once at the trailer and again here and you don’t feel any blood sticking to that hood.“
    I hadn’t been, but he was right.
    “Used this nice little billy club a feller gave me. All padded with leather, so it don’t leave a mark. Works pretty good though, wouldn’t you say?“
    I started to say something, stopping when I realized I wasn’t gagged or taped at the mouth anymore.
    “Come on, you can talk. Ought not to be able to move nothing, but you can talk.“
    He was right about the moving part. Now I was sitting down in some kind of wooden armchair, the spokes like vertical ribs against my back and shoulders. My ankles were tied or taped to the legs, my wrists the same to the arms. Severn had taken off my gloves, but the hood was still in place, some kind of light flickering through it. Then I caught the scent of woodsmoke and the occasional crackle of an open fire.
    “That old bucket at the trailer. You don’t know how many times I meant to move it out of the way, but just one of those things you never get around to? I was driving home—the back way, not past the chicken farm—and I see this little car sort of hiding in the turnout, and I say to myself, ‘What kind of fool goes fishing in a dried-up stream at night?’ Then I see it’s got Massachusetts plates on it, so I stop and come over, and what do you know? That old bucket’s not where I left it, and there’s this little shining inside my trailer, like a lightning bug in a jar. And I say to myself, ‘Lonnie, I believe you have yourself a burglar.’“
    I couldn’t think of anything that would make things better, and I didn’t want to make things worse, so I stayed silent “After I—what would the police call it, ‘apprehended’ you?—I figured it would be a lot easier to have our talk out here in this old hunting camp. You can’t appreciate it, but we’re in a nice, private spot about ten miles from the nearest humankind. And we’re gonna talk about things till I’m plain sick of hearing your voice.“
    “Severn, Chief Pettengill knows I was looking for you.“
    “So what? I just tell the chief I wasn’t home for a couple days, never did see you.“
    “He won’t buy it.“
    “He don’t got to buy it. He’s just got to prove otherwise. I may not have learned much in this life, but I learned that much. And he won’t be able to prove nothing.“
    “These tape marks’ll make it clear that whatever happened to me wasn’t any accident.“
    “Kind of—what would you call it, ‘pessimistic’?—on your part. You