Page 2 of Captive Wilderness
The way she said it disturbed me.Too calm.A cold sweat broke out over my body. Did this have something to do with Sabrina’s job? It didn’t make sense. She was a forest ranger at a national park in northern Michigan.
I didn’t understand what was going on, but I was in a cage. I wore a collar. My instincts told me to break free.
Sifting through fragmented memories, I tried to make sense of them.People are after me.She’d said that as we’d left the club, stumbling into the parking lot to head toward Sabrina’s Jeep. But I hadn’t wanted to leave the tattooed guy behind. I’d resisted, shrugging my arm out of Sabrina’s insistent grasp.
Don’t be childish. This is more important than you getting laid.
Sabrina had said more, but it was hard to remember anything clearly. We’d almost made it to the Jeep when a surge of pain made me fall to my knees. My limbs jerking, my whole body refused to do what I told it to. I’d never felt anything that intense until… I reached up and touched the collar around my neck.
My sister wore one too. The thing looked like something out of a sci-fi movie. Silver and sleek, it was about two inches wide with buttons and lights on it. Despite the collar, Sabrina resembled a model from the cover of aBackpackermagazine. Her dark brown hair swept into a ponytail, her blue plaid shirt was rolled up to the elbows and worn loose over jeans. Hiking boots finished off the ensemble.
Sweat beaded Sabrina’s brow. I tensed, zeroing in on her movements. What was she doing? Sabrina shifted one claw, trying to the pick the padlock, the curved white of it disappearing inside the mechanism. Holding on to a partial shift with the collar on must be excruciating. Just thinking about shifting again stabbed a spike through my brain.
While she worked on the lock, she kept glancing at the door that closed the cargo area off from the rest of the plane. A gun rack was mounted beside it, but it looked as locked up as we were.
Gripping the cold metal bars of the cage, I held my breath and watched my sister’s movements. Even though it wasn’t hot, a trickle of sweat ran down Sabrina’s brow while she worked. I shivered and ran a hand up and down my bare arm. Urgency kept my heart beating hard in my throat. Seconds, then minutes ticked by as Sabrina messed with the lock. She kept looking at the door, like she expected someone to burst through.
Who put us here? Why was this happening? More questions tumbled through my brain as I squeezed the thin metal bars so tight they made impressions in my palms.
Finally, Sabrina dropped her hand on an exhale. The bar slid out of the padlock and she twisted it open. With another glance at the door, she crawled out of the cage. The animals around us became agitated. The monkey chittered, the high-pitched sound spiking above the noise of the engine.
“Get me out of here.” I rattled the bars, wanting to tear them apart.
Sabrina jumped to her feet, swayed, then caught her balance before stepping to my cage. Not making eye contact, she crouched in front of the lock. Concentration puckered her brow. More sweat broke out across her forehead as she shifted one claw, then got to work, her jaw locked tight.
Even though she seemed calm, now that she was up close, I could see the strain in her face. Her eyes were bloodshot, her mouth pinched. Dark circles made it look like she hadn’t slept in a while. Very unlike my usual full-night’s-sleep-and-eight-glasses-of-water-a-day sister.
It took less time to pick my padlock. When the bar slid free, I tumbled out of the cage in relief. As soon as I stood, another bout of nausea overcame me, making me press my lips together and clutch my stomach.
Sabrina stepped close with a steadying hand. “Are you going to be okay?”
The nausea subsiding, I nodded.
“Good. Because we’re not free yet.”
She left me there, heading to an oval door with a circular window. We were on one of those planes that could lower its back end and a car could drive right on up—a cargo plane.
How were we supposed to escape? I knew we were in the air, could tell by how the floor dropped once in a while, giving me that feeling of lightness. Legs shaking, I followed my sister. Sabrina messed with things next to the door, straps and bags, then threw two of the black backpacks on the floor in front of my feet. No, not backpacks. Parachutes.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” No sooner had the words left my mouth when Sabrina took one of the chutes and forced the straps around my thighs and onto my shoulders.
“This is the only way out.”
Buckles snapped in place; straps were tightened. I stood there, numb, as reality set in.
“I’ve never done this before.” The panic of being trapped in a cage was replaced with a new terror. I didn’t want to jump out of a plane. I wanted to go home. I wanted to spend the night, or two or three or four, with the tattooed guy. I wanted to sleep in my own bed, drink coffee in the morning, and laugh about the funny nightmare I’d dreamed. Maybe I’d call Sabrina and tell her about it.
Because that’s what this was. A bad dream. None of this could really be happening.
“It’s easy. I’ve done this before.” Sabrina’s voice broke through my chaotic thoughts. “I’m going to clip you into this line.” She gestured to the straps above the door. “It’s going to pull your chute open for you at the right time, all you need to do is jump.”
All you need to do is jump.
A giggle escaped my lips, the absurdity of the situation pressing down on me.
Sabrina stopped in front of me, placed her hands on my shoulders, and stared at me with hard eyes. “You need to pull yourself together. We only have one shot at this. They’ll make it impossible to escape if they catch us.”
I swallowed. I still didn’t know whotheywere but the desperate look on Sabrina’s face made all humor evaporate.
