Page 90 of Fallen

I spit, realize I’ve been slobbering. I try to lift my hand to wipe my mouth, but I can’t move my arms. I have no idea where I am. All I know is that I’m in a bad way. Confusion is a bottomless pit. But the muscle memory of fear hovers just out of reach, coiled tight and ready to spring.

Get up, a little voice whispers. Get up.

I open my eyes. I see a mound of loose hay a foot from my face. I’m lying on my side, my face against weathered wood. I’m being jostled, bumped and rocked back and forth. I hear the jingle of a harness. The clip-clop of shod hooves.

I raise my head, look around. My vision blurs, so I blink it away, try to focus. Pain roils in my head. The jostling triggers another rise of nausea. I spit, set my head back down, close my eyes.

Get up, Kate. Get up! Hurry!

The memory of the events that brought me to this moment rushes back. Adrenaline jets into my muscles, making them twitch. The fear that follows sends me bolt upright. I’m in the back bed of a hay wagon. Two horses pulling it along a dirt road. There’s an open field to my left. Thick woods on the right. I see blood on the wood where I’d been lying. My hands are bound behind my back. Ben Bontrager sits in the driver seat, leather lines in his hands, looking at me over his shoulder. Blank expression. Mouth set. Loretta sits next to him, staring straight ahead.

“Ben, what the hell are you doing?” I grind out the words as I test the binding at my wrists. Wire, I realize, tight enough to cut off my circulation.

“Stay where you are.” He turns back to his driving. “We’re almost there.”

“Ben, you can’t do this.” I work at the wire, twisting and tugging as I speak. “I’m a cop. There’s an officer on the way.”

The Amish man ignores me, jiggles the lines, continues on.

I take in my surroundings, try to get my bearings. Nothing is familiar. I have no idea how far we’ve traveled or how long I was unconscious. We’re not on a public road. No sign of the farmhouse. My best guess is that we’re somewhere in the back of his property.

I glance down at my right hip. My .38 is gone. My radio and shoulder mike are gone. Shit. Shit.

“Ben.” I say his name firmly, as if I still have any say in a matter that has spiraled out of control. “Stop the horses. Untie me. Right now. Before this goes too far.”

No response. No indication that he even heard me.

“Where’s my gun?” I ask. “My radio. For God’s sake, people are looking for me. Cops.”

Nothing.

“Turn around and look at me,” I snap, adding authority to my voice that’s ridiculous at this point.

Loretta looks over her shoulder at me. Her face impassive.

“Take me back to the house,” I tell her. “So we can talk about this. Get things worked out.”

No one responds.

I try another tack. “Where are you taking me?”

The couple exchanges a look, but they don’t answer, they don’t look at me.

I shift, try to get my legs under me. I’m unsteady, but manage to get to one knee. I’m about to rise when, without warning, Ben swings around. He lifts the buggy whip and brings the thick handle end of it down on my shoulder. “Stay there,” he warns.

I duck and turn away. The second blow strikes my back. The lash of pain roils my temper. “Cut it out,” I hiss.

He offers up a third blow. A glance off my right cheekbone. I grit my teeth, take it. Nothing else I can do.

“Mer sott em sei eegne net verlosse,” the Amish man snaps. One should not abandon one’s own. “You did, Kate Burkholder. You left the Amish way. You abandoned God. He no longer sees you as one of us.”

I stare at him, wondering if he’s got my .38 on him. “God loves all of His children,” I hear myself say. “Amish. English. It doesn’t matter to Him.”

“Huahrah.” Whoremonger. Making a sound of disgust, he turns away and goes back to his driving.

I lean against the side of the wagon, the wood rasping my back. Desperation presses down. I’m unarmed and incapacitated, in the middle of nowhere, with a man who will likely do me harm. I remind myself that Skid is probably wondering where I am. It’s only a matter of time before he comes looking. My feet aren’t bound, which means I can run if I get the chance. If I can reach the woods, I might be able to elude them until backup arrives.

I stare at their backs a moment before speaking. “What about Fannie?” I ask. “Have you thought about what this will do to her?”