 Mason moved his hand to the back of Riece’s neck and squeezed, then pulled him in and gently kissed his forehead. Dirt fell down the edge of the pit, and at the same time, Mason heard a male voice say, “Well don’t you boys look like you’ve gotten yourselves into a real pickle.” Mason and Riece looked up. Almost immediately Riece’s gaze shifted to Mason, and he felt Riece tense. Glancing around the pit, Mason snorted and used the back of one hand to nudge Riece back a step while he took a step forward. “That’s one way to put it,” Mason said. “Have any rope?” The man stood there staring down at them, and for a few seconds, Mason worried he’d turn around and leave. Or worse, start firing the crossbow he held at them. Mason had the distinct impression he was being sized up the same way Mason was judging this man. He looked to be in his fifties or maybe early sixties, but in good shape, and even without the crossbow, Mason wouldn’t want to tangle with him. His hair was short and stylish, more salt than pepper. He carried himself like a man who was used to issuing orders and having them followed. The clothing he wore was expensive but well-worn. To Mason he appeared to be a man comfortable in the outdoors, probably a hunter. The man turned and set the crossbow down, then crossed his arms over his chest. He watched Mason and Riece as he spoke to someone out of Mason’s line of vision. “Jason, bring a line over, will you?” Mason wondered who Jason was and who this guy was and why they were here. It didn’t take long before a length of rope dropped over the side. Mason stepped forward and reached for it, muttering, “Interesting place to put a hole.” Mason grabbed the rope. “Not you. Him first,” the man ordered, gesturing at Riece. The rope began to slither back up. Mason stared up at the man. He felt pretty confident he would win a tug-of-war, but they’d still be trapped. The man lifted the crossbow but didn’t take aim. He simply held it. “I must insist. Your friend doesn’t look very comfortable down there.” Mason looked back at Riece. He stood in stony silence. His expression was impassive, and he was still. There was very little about his body language that anyone would see as anything other than a man who wanted to be left alone. Riece’s gaze met Mason’s, then moved to the rope, following it up to the opening and the man standing there staring down at them. Mason recognized Riece’s lack of reaction for what it really was. Riece was uncertain, maybe downright afraid. Possibly this man recognized the same thing? Slowly releasing the rope, Mason nodded. He couldn’t begin to process the extent to which he didn’t like this, but he had no choice. They had to get out, and Riece wouldn’t be able to climb out unassisted. He turned and held one hand out to Riece, saying softly, “C’mon, it’ll be fine.” Riece stood rooted to the spot until Mason leaned closer and took his arm. The man grumbled something, but Mason didn’t catch the words. He caught the tone, however, and wondered if the man had seen Mason hold and kiss Riece. “Riece,” Mason said quietly, then winced inwardly. He knew better than to announce their names. Riece walked with his head down to avoid making eye contact with anyone. Once he was within reaching distance of the rope, Riece stopped. Mason wound the loose end around Riece’s waist and tied it. “Don’t panic,” he whispered. “Do what they say. No matter what it is.” He gave the rope a tug and looked up, saying, “All set.” The men pulled while Riece scrambled up the side of the pit. If it hadn’t been for the rope, he’d have slipped and fallen at least twice. When he reached the top, Mason watched as hands grabbed Riece’s belt. The number of hands didn’t match the two men Mason had seen or heard, and he wondered how many people were actually up there. A minute went by, then another, and the rope didn’t come back down. He heard some movement, but nothing he could identify. There were no shouts, nor even the sound of Riece’s voice. Mason stalked along the pit side, looking up. “Hey, still here,” he called, trying to sound casual. Mason paced a few feet one way, then returned to his starting point. He searched for more of the wooden planks and felt along the earthen wall for handholds. The nice little pep talk he’d given Riece replayed in his head. It wasn’t that far to the top. He could get out. He was thinking he’d have to make a decision and make it fast when the rope dropped down once more. “Sorry about that. You tie a killer knot,” the man from before called down, leaning over the edge. The tone of his voice, as well as his statement, made the hair along the back of Mason’s neck rise. Mason grabbed the rope. He didn’t bother tying it around himself as he had Riece. Being tethered was something he neither wanted nor needed. The knot he tied shouldn’t have given anyone any trouble. It was reasonable to think someone up there had a knife. Most people this deep in the wilderness carried at least a pocketknife. The rope could have been cut off of Riece if need be, with plenty left to help Mason. The man was lying.      Comments are closed.
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