The two menrush for me but I’m already swinging the heavy cottonwood limb. I get the first guy in his left side, stopping him mid-leap, his eyes flashing with shock and pain. The second man reaches for his gun, but I land a blow to his hip, smashing his hand and filling the cellar with the crunch of breaking bones and his cry of agony.
Taking down two men is a scenario we practiced at the academy, but it’s not ideal and can very easily go sideways. Doing it without a gun and cuffs is suicide. But a solid tree branch is as good as any baseball bat. Every farm kid knows this.
The first man has recovered and is going for his gun, but I get him in the neck and he crumples to the floor. The second man is still fumbling for his gun with his pulpy, broken hand but I hit his chest, sending him reeling backwards. I ditch the club and attack, hitting him in the face. I pounce on top of him, my fist pounding into his nose, his mouth. If there’s pain in my knuckles, the fury thrumming inside me swallows all trace of it.
I should kill them both for what they’ve done. For what they were about to do.
But the third man—the one with the radio whose departure revealed Linnea’s location—is surely going to return. And unless Linnea and I are already gone, our chances of survival drop significantly.
Though I’d rather die in Linnea’s arms than live knowing she suffered alone.
Blood gushes from the man’s nose, coating my fist. He stops fighting, and reality steals into my awareness. We need to get out of here. Now. Before these two wake up or the third man returns.
Panting, I rock back from the man’s limp body. I take his gun and tuck it into my waistband. I remove the other man’s but only take the clip, tossing the empty gun to the side on my way to the bed.
Tears stream down Linnea’s face and she’s trembling, her chest rising and falling in quick, shallow breaths. I wipe the man’s blood from my knuckles on the bed and peel the tape from her mouth.
“CJ.” The word catches in her throat, her eyes filling with tears.
Relief that she’s safe hits me like a wrecking ball. I press my trembling lips to the top of her head.
“How did you know I was here?” she chokes out.
I whip out my buck knife and slice through the ropes binding her wrists, then wrap her in my arms. “I wasn’t sure until I got closer.”
She’s shivering. “They have my boots.”
I grimace. “We can’t take the time to look for them.”
“I know.”
I rock to my feet and pull her with me. She sucks in a pained gasp, her face tense.
The urge to shoot both men in the gut is so powerful all I hear is the rush of blood in my ears.
But Linnea takes my face in her hands and stares into my eyes. “No more violence, CJ. Please. I’ll be okay.”
It’s the reminder I need to get us out of here. “Let’s go.”
Before I can lift Linnea into my arms, a figure appears in the cellar doorway.
Chapter Forty-Three
I fly downthe cellar steps, my hammering heart lodged in my throat.
They’re alive.
“Dad?” Linnie calls as I yank them to me and hold them both close, unwanted tears stinging my eyes before I can choke them back. I should yell at them, or focus on getting us out of here, before all hell breaks loose.
Instead, I cup my daughter’s face, needing to lock on her pretty blue eyes. Knowing she’s hurting is going to break me. “This should have never happened.”
Her nostrils flare. “I’m okay,” she manages.
I kiss her forehead and force down the clot of emotion thickening in my throat. To think she’s been here with the two men currently unconscious on the floor. To think she’s had to be strong, alone, while we wandered those woods, while we pieced together the clues…
But she’s safe thanks to CJ. Now it’s my job to get them out of here.
One of the men on the floor groans, stirring awake. If we had more time, I’d break both of them into a hundred pieces.