1

 

 

 

The high-beams of the late model car clearly illuminated the highway ahead but barely penetrated the thick brush on either side of the paved road. The moon though nearly full, was obscured by a thick bank of fast moving cloud.

“Where are you taking me?”

The question came from the man in the back seat. His arms were tightly bound to his torso by a length of rope.

“Shut the fuck up,” said the passenger.

“If you could just tell me what the hell is going on?”

He had reached deep for bravado, but the edge to his voice betrayed the very real fear he had been fighting to control ever since they’d left Kamloops city limits. Whatever they had planned, he was well aware that he had no way to put up a fight against them.

To make the point, the passenger came over the back seat and slugged Max King hard. He fell back against the seat, dazed. This was the second time the guy had punched him for asking questions and he packed a mean punch.

“There’s the sign,” said the passenger.

A minute later, the driver slowed the car and turned onto the New Directions Mine road.

King caught a glimpse of the sign, enough to register where they were bringing him.

First downtown… And now here. But why here, he thought? And then, he realized why. The mine… They were taking him to the mine site… Maybe someone had found out about the plan? But they couldn’t have. Everyone had been so careful.

The car bumped along slowly for a few minutes before the driver pulled off into the brush and parked. The two men exited the car and moved to the passenger in the back seat.

“Get out,” said the heavy-set guy.

Slowly, King shifted his body and brought his legs sideways.

“Hurry it up!”

“Help him for chrissakes,” said the taller man.

In answer, the stocky guy grabbed King by his shoulders and pulled him from the back seat, but in the process, King stumbled and fell against him, falling to his knees.

“I don’t understand what’s going on.”

The two men ignored him.

“The boss said to leave him at the bottom of the incline. He described the spot. I’ll know it when I see it.”

“Okay let’s get him down there.”

The two men strong-armed Max to his feet and headed down the road. It wasn’t long before the road took a dip downhill.

“The spot the boss has in mind must be down here.”

The incline was difficult for King and he struggled to remain on his feet. The men had their hands full keeping him upright, but it wasn’t long before they reached the bottom of the incline and the road levelled out once again.

“It can’t be much further,” said the taller of the two.

They continued in silence until they reached a pile of large boulders.

“He wants us to leave him here, beside these boulders. Kind of staged. Traffic to the mine will find him here in the morning.”

“Listen… Do what you want with me. But please. Where is Rose? What did you do with her? Please, let her go.”

The two ignored him. They dragged him over to one of the larger boulders and pushed him to the ground.

“Hold him still,” said the taller man.

The heavy-set guy complied. King watched while the other pulled a bag from his pocket and busied himself preparing an injection. He grabbed his leg and shoved a hypodermic into his thigh.

“What the hell was that?”

“Don’t worry. You’re gonna enjoy the ride,” said the tall guy.

King began to feel the effects very quickly. When he tried to talk again, his speech was slurred.

 

 

Len and Rick stood over Max King and watched as he struggled to remain conscious.

“Let’s get the rope off him.”

They pulled him away from the boulder and removed the rope that bound him.

“Why are we dumping him out here?” said Rick. “This is stupid if you ask me!”

“No one asked you and we couldn’t dump him in town, obviously. Too many people around. This is Frank’s Plan B. He wants us to dump him out here. This is where he wants him found.”

“I don’t know why we couldn’t just shoot him. Clean and neat.”

“Like I told you already! Frank doesn’t want that.”

Len was nearly out of patience.

“No one’s gonna believe this is a suicide,” said Rick. “Why the hell would he come out here to off himself?”

“We’re not trying to pass it off as a suicide. Not any more. King definitely wouldn’t be giving himself the cocktail I just gave him. Frank said it’s a warning to anyone who thinks they can halt production at this mine.”

“A warning? Why would anyone want to stop production?”

“Frank said this guy’s a lawyer and the tailings pond is leaking. My guess is he’s probably involved in some kind of legal battle about the mine.”

“Fuck. Anyone living down river is gonna be pissed about that.”

“Not people who count. At least not by the owner of the mine.”

“I don’t think the folks downstream would agree with him.”

“It doesn’t matter what they think. These guys do whatever the fuck they want.”

“I wouldn’t mind those shoes.”

“We take nothing.”

“Too bad. That’s a very nice watch. Could get a few bucks for that.”

“Leave it!”

“Yeah, yeah. Gotta say the guy was a nice dresser.”

“He’s a lawyer. Not surprising.”

They waited a few more minutes.

“I think he’s out,” said Rick.

He nudged King with the toe of one shoe, but there was no reaction.

“You’re right,” said Len. “He’s gone."

Len took a picture of King leaning heavily against the boulder, head on his chest, before heading up the trail with his partner in tow.

“What about the woman?” said Rick once they reached the top of the hill.

“We’ll get rid of her somewhere else.”

“You told Frank about her, right?”

“Are you crazy! And I’m not going to.”

“He’ll be really pissed when he finds out.”

“He will be, but we’ll be long gone.”

“Yeah, yeah, but I still don’t like it.”

“We don’t have a choice,” said Len.

They’d reached their rental and Len climbed into the driver’s seat. His partner gingerly stepped into the brush the car was parked in and moved to the passenger side, got the door open and slid in.

“Where are we going to dump her?”

“I have a spot in mind, back down the highway a bit.”

“I don’t like it that you’re not gonna tell Frank. We should’ve called it off as soon as we found the girlfriend there.”

“She wasn’t supposed to be there, and that’s on Frank.”

“That’s for sure!”

“Anyway, we should’ve checked and we didn’t and that was our bad, trusting Frank’s info. That left us with little choice. Take them both, or call it off. Calling it off would have meant not getting paid.”

“We are broke as fuck!”

“We are. Also, it would have been tricky. Either of them could’ve ID’d us. We both have priors in this province. And you clocked the chick but good out back. That was stupid. Why didn’t you just put her in the trunk?”

“She got mouthy with me and I guess I just reacted … I wonder who she is?”

“A girlfriend, probably.”

“But she’s white.”

Len ignored him. He was thinking that as long as the bodies weren’t found together, that would buy them a little time. Time to get paid and more important, time to put some distance between themselves and Kamloops. He’d wanted to go back east for a while now. It rained too much here for his liking. He pulled out his cell and texted Max’s picture to Frank. Ten minutes later his phone dinged. Frank had sent the money.

 

 

Rose Barlow had regained consciousness. She was very groggy, and an excruciating headache pulsed relentlessly. It was dark and at first, she couldn’t figure out where she was. She reached out a hand and felt cold steel. She groped its length, but it took a minute for her to realize it was a tire iron. She tried sitting up and banged her head before she got started. She felt the panic rising when she realized she was in a very small space. She struggled to clear her head, to think. She couldn’t extend her legs… couldn’t sit up… tire iron. And then it dawned on her that she was in the trunk of someone’s car.

I have to get out of here!

Rose fought back tears. Then, overcome with a wave of pain and dizziness, she laid her head back down on the floor of the trunk, waiting for her vision to clear. Something glowed, just beyond her reach. Taking a deep breath, she kept her head down and pulled herself toward it. When she got closer, she realized there was a pale green light with writing of some kind, but her vision was too blurry to make it out. She reached up, felt its surface. Some kind of button. She pushed on it, but the effort was too much, and her arm dropped. Moments later, the door to the trunk started moving upward, and she could feel the cold air as it rushed in on her face and arms.

Open! The trunk was open now! Rose’s head throbbed but the cold air was invigorating, and adrenaline kicked in. Somehow, she got herself into a kneeling position. She grabbed hold of the trunk lip and careful not to hit her head, pulled her left leg up and over, trying to reach the ground. Slowly, she shifted her upper body to the bottom lip of the trunk. Her left leg slid down, and her foot found the ground. She pulled her right leg free of the trunk and let it slide to the ground. She moved to stand but her head exploded with pain and she grabbed the lip of the trunk for all she was worth and held on. Once she thought that she could manage it, breathing through the pain, she pulled herself to a standing position. She reached up and closed the trunk lid, leaned again the trunk for a minute, then, using the car as support, she made her way round to the side of the car.

She had to get to Max. They must have put him in the back seat. She peered in the window, but he wasn’t there. She reached for her phone in her jacket pocket, but it wasn’t there.

I need to get help.

She tried the driver’s door and it was unlocked. It took more strength than she thought she had, but somehow, she managed to get it open. She reached in and holding tightly onto the steering wheel, she pulled herself into the car sideways. Another excruciating wave of pain and dizziness took hold. She breathed through it, then started looking for something, anything she could use.

There was nothing on the seats—used coffee cups, a crumpled cellophane snack bag. The back seat was empty. She leaned over sideways to reach into the glove compartment and nearly passed out with the effort. Sideways now, straddled across both seats with her right elbow propping her up on the passenger seat, she got the glovebox open with her left hand and searched it. She found a cellphone and pulled it out. Black. No cover. It wasn’t hers.

“Thank God,” she muttered and stuffed it into her front jacket pocket. Pushing up with her right elbow, she reached back for the steering wheel, and grabbing it with her left hand, she pulled herself into a sitting position behind the wheel. Laying her head against it, she waited through another wave to pain. Somehow, she managed to get herself out of the car. She shut the car door carefully. They’d taken Max somewhere, and they’d be back.

They’ll be back! I need to hide!

Rose groped her way to the back of the car and around it to the side of the road, then stumbled into the dense bush beside the car and headed, unsteadily, toward a stand of trees not far in. The gash on her temple was oozing blood now, sliding into the corner of one eye and down her face, but she kept going, one foot in front of the other, fast as she could, until the pain in her temple forced her to stop.

She looked back and couldn’t see the car from where she was. She slid to the ground, the dirt, cold and unforgiving against her bloody cheek.

Max …

She had to find Max. Pushing back tears, she pulled herself up until she was on her hands and knees and crawled to a nearby tree, leaning into it for support. The sound of a car motor reached her. It was close and her heart started to race with fear. But then the rumble grew more and more faint—and then, silence.

She took a deep breath. Maybe they were gone! Please, please let them be gone. Somehow, she got to her feet and stumbled through the brush, back, toward the road, but it was hard to get her bearings.

When she finally came out of the bush and onto the road, there was no sign of the car. A wave of dizziness forced her to her knees. She sat down on the side of the road. And then she remembered the phone. She pulled it out and turned it on. There was no lock, and the home screen came up, with very few apps on the screen. Her sight was blurry, and it took her a minute to find the phone app, then the keypad. She pressed 911 and waited.

“911. Police, fire or ambulance?”

“Police… and an ambulance,” Rose whispered.

“Please speak up ma’am. I can hardly hear you.”

“Police… ambulance,” croaked Rose.

“What is your address?”

“I don’t know… where I am.”

“I need an address ma’am.”

“We were abducted, me… and Max… Two men… It’s dark… Lots of trees.”

“Abducted? What is your name?”

“Rose Barlow.”

“Okay Rose. Is Max with you?”

“No.”

“Don’t hang up. Stay on the line. Can you do that?”

“Yes.”

The 911 operator alerted the Kamloops detachment office and put two ambulances on standby, while she tracked the caller’s location.

“You still there Rose?”

“Still here.”

“Great. You stay with me. I’m tracking your location. Don’t hang up!”

“Okay.”

The operator was patched in to Corporal Whitehall from the RCMP detachment office. She relayed that someone named Rose Barlow was down and hurt and appeared to be somewhere in the vicinity the New Directions Mine. She claimed to have been abducted with a man named Max. She could hear Whitehall hurriedly confer with someone close by.

“Rose, are you still with me?”

“Still here,” mumbled Rose.

“The police and an ambulance are on the way to you now. Are you near a road?”

“Yes… Bumpy road… I need to find Max.”

“You stay where you are!

“Corporal Whitehall. It’s possible that Rose is somewhere along the mine road.”

“Copy that.”

“You don’t understand… We have to find Max?”

“The police are on the way, Rose, and if you stay where you are, it will be easier to find you. Do you know where Max is?”

“No.”

“What about the men that kidnapped you? Are they still there.”

“I heard a car leaving.”

“Don’t hang up, okay Rose. I’m going to stay on the line with you.”

“Okay.”

“You still there, Rose?”

Rose was crying softly now, phone dropped, forgotten, in her lap. The operator was silent, listening to her cry. When the crying stopped, she spoke again.

“Rose, are you still there?”

But Rose had slipped into unconsciousness. The operator kept the line to Rose live. She continued to monitor Rose’s phone line. The only sign that she was still with her was an occasional small cough. It was almost fifteen minutes later when the operator heard the distant, tinny sounds of sirens getting louder.

“Can you hear the sirens, Rose? Help is almost there.”

 

 

Corporal Whitehall took the cutoff onto the New Directions Mine road. A few minutes later, the headlights of the patrol car picked up a woman lying unconscious by the side of the road.

“There she is!”

Constable Byrne hopped out and ran to Rose’s side. Whitehall parked in the weeds just behind the woman, then joined him.

“It’s Rose Barlow,” he said as Whitehall approached. “She matches the picture we have.”

The ambulance was close behind. Its headlights illuminated the officers bent over Rose as it crawled down the bumpy road and pulled up close by.

One of the attendants jumped out and quickly joined the officers. He assessed Rose, while the driver turned the ambulance around and parked it. He jumped out and retrieved a stretcher, then the attendants loaded her onto the stretcher and into the ambulance. Byrne bagged the phone.

“We understood there were two people here who may need help,” said one of the attendants.

“A man named Max,” said Whitehall. “That’s all we have right now.”

“We need to get this woman to the hospital. Another ambulance is on the way and should be here any minute.”

As if in answer, the distant wail of a siren could be heard. The first ambulance headed out to the main road.

“You check both sides of the road and liaise with the ambulance,” said Whitehall. “It looks like the road slopes downhill over there. I’ll head down and have a look.”

“Roger that,” said Byrne.

He headed toward the main road, scanning both sides of the road with a bright flashlight and Whitehall headed down the slope sideways, her flashlight at the ready. It was a few minutes before she spotted Max King.

“I found him!” yelled Corporal Whitehall into her two-way.

“Roger that!” Byrne answered.

Whitehall rushed to the man’s side, knelt beside him and felt for a pulse. She thought she could detect a very weak one. She bent down to feel for breath from the nose and mouth. She felt nothing. In the bright light of her flashlight his lips were blue. She quickly checked his fingertips; blue also.

“Byrne! Bring the naloxone!” she yelled into her radio.

“Naloxone! Roger that!” echoed back.

Whitehall bent over Max, opened his airway and started to breathe for him.

The wail of the second ambulance siren was loud now. It had turned onto the mine road. Byrne, at the cruiser fetching naloxone, was caught in its headlights. He waited till it was adjacent, then quickly filled the attendants in before rushing down the embankment. He spotted Whitehall and joined her.

“Second ambulance is here,” he said as he quickly prepped the naloxone shot and jabbed it into Max’s thigh. “They’re bringing the stretcher.”

“Now, we wait,” said Byrne, fingers on Max’s carotid, eyes were on his wristwatch. Whitehall continued with the breathing.

“Come on, buddy,” he whispered.

They were joined by the ambulance attendants carrying a stretcher. All eyes were on Max.

“How long has it been?” said one of the attendants.

“Nearly two minutes since I gave him the shot,” said Byrne, his fingertips on Max’s carotid.

“It can take a while,” said one of the attendants.

Almost another minute went by.

“We might be too late.”

In answer, Max moaned softly.

“He’s back!” yelled Byrne.

“Let’s get him to the hospital,” said Whitehall.

They quickly loaded Max onto the stretcher and the four of them headed uphill as fast as they could go.