Rescue Mission Read online

  The man kept his eyes on Ben’s wrists, then moved on to Ben’s ankles. When he was done, the man stood up, looked Ben square in the eye, and grinned from ear to ear.

  “That oughta hold you until I get back, kid.” He studied Ben for a long moment. Ben wished he could make himself invisible. “You know what he was in for?” The convict jerked a thumb over his shoulder, at his partner on the ground.

  Ben shook his head.

  “He held a whole family hostage during a robbery. Kids and all.” He let out a sharp snort of laughter. “Tell you the truth—I think he kind of enjoyed it.”

  And with that, the foul man spun around, stomped out of the tiny cabin, and stormed off into the woods.

  Ben exhaled. His dad relaxed.

  Hero and Scout started to run after the man.

  “Stay!” Ben and his dad shouted at the same time. The dogs froze by the door, staring out into the woods—two loyal sentries.

  “Let me try to untie you, Ben,” his dad said. “We don’t have much time before that one wakes up.”

  Ben held out his hands, and his dad fumbled at the knot binding Ben’s wrists together. He could tell that it was hard for his dad to maneuver his fingers with his own wrists tied up so tight. Ben flinched as the ropes rubbed across his injured wrist.

  “What happened to your arm?” his dad asked.

  Before Ben could answer, Scout barked angrily, and a figure appeared in the doorway.

  “Who’s there?” Ben’s dad demanded, sitting forward and shielding Ben with his body again.

  “It’s okay,” Ben said. “That’s Tucker. He’s my friend. He lives around here and he helped me and Hero find you.”

  “Hi,” Tucker said, stepping into the shack. “I’m glad you’re okay, sir.” He hopped over the unconscious man on the ground and crouched down next to them. “Let me untie those.”

  “Thanks, Tucker,” Ben’s dad said. “And thanks for helping my guys.”

  “You bet.”

  “Were you behind the rock that took that one out?” He tipped his head toward the behemoth passed out on the floor.

  “Yes, sir. With my slingshot.”

  “Nice work.”

  “Thanks.”

  The man on the floor let out a loud snort and they all jumped. They froze, watching him. He twitched, then went slack again.

  “He’s gonna wake up soon,” Tucker said. He freed Ben’s dad’s wrists and went to work on Ben’s.

  “He is,” Ben’s dad said as he flexed and bent his fingers to get the blood flowing into them again, then untied his own ankles. “We need to hurry—I know what they’re planning. They were talking about it earlier when they thought I was asleep. There’s a convenience store near the northwest corner of the forest. They’re going to rob it for supplies and cash and then head south for Louisiana.”

  Tucker’s mouth dropped open and he loosened his hold on Ben’s arms for a second. “Northeast corner of the forest, you said?”

  Ben’s dad nodded. “You know it?”

  “Yeah—yeah—I—I know it,” Tucker stammered. He looked like he’d been punched in the gut. “It’s”—he sucked in his breath—“it’s my family’s store. My mom and stepdad are there right now.”

  Ben’s dad pressed his lips together and nodded grimly. He and Ben exchanged a worried glance.

  Ben put his hand on Tucker’s shoulder. “We’ve got this,” he said. “My dad and Hero are here.”

  Tucker nodded. “We have to go,” he said simply. “Now. We have to get there before he does.”

  17

  TUCKER’S HANDS WERE SHAKING AS HE finally managed to untie Ben.

  Ben shook out his good arm and gently wiggled the fingers on his injured hand. His dad was rubbing one arm with the other and moving his feet around. Ben’s limbs were tingling after being tied up for a few minutes. He couldn’t imagine how his dad felt after being bound with rope for two days.

  “Ben—your phone,” his dad said. “Do you have it?”

  Ben pulled it from his pocket and handed it to him. “No service.”

  “We’ll have to get out of the woods, then,” his dad said. “Let’s go.” With a grimace, he tried to get to his knees, but he froze in pain.

  “Dad! Are you okay?” Ben scanned his dad for injuries but didn’t see any. “What is it?”

  “I’m fine, son.” His dad exhaled slowly. “It’s just my leg—my knee is hurt pretty bad, but I’ll be okay.”

  Ben stood and reached down to help his dad to his feet. He gripped his dad’s hand and prepared to lift him up.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” boomed a deep voice behind him. Ben let go of his dad and spun around. The first escaped prisoner was up on his feet, swaying unsteadily and waving a fist at them. Dried blood crusted his forehead and cheek.

  Tucker stepped to Ben’s side, and Hero and Scout gathered at his feet. Ben dropped his hand to Hero’s collar, soothing—and restraining—his dog. “It’s okay, Hero,” Ben said softly. “Stay.”

  Ben had seen one gun tonight, and he had to assume this guy had one too.

  He wasn’t letting Hero get between him and a bullet.

  Ben and Tucker stood shoulder to shoulder. The convict took a stumbling step forward. The boys took a reflexive step backward. A couple more feet and they would step right on Ben’s dad, who was still sitting on the floor with his back against the wall.

  Then the three of them—and the dogs—would be trapped. The shack was small—there wasn’t much space between them, and there was even less room to get away.

  The man closed in on them. Adrenaline pumped through Ben’s body. Maybe, he realized, he was holding on to Hero’s collar to keep himself calm, not the other way around.

  The man took one more step. He was so close now that Ben could smell his sour breath and see the pores in his skin.

  Ben’s foot bumped against his dad’s leg behind him.

  There was nowhere to go. They were cornered.

  Hero strained at his collar. Ben tightened his grip and swallowed hard. He felt Tucker shaking next to him.

  Ben felt sick for dragging Tucker into this situation. He had no reason to be here—and now he wasn’t going to be able to get to his family, who could be in terrible danger.

  The man looming before them reached one arm behind him, grappling for something at his back.

  It’s a gun, Ben thought. This is it. There was no way out.

  Ben shut his eyes. He waited.

  There was a millisecond of torturous silence. It was broken by the earsplitting sound of splintering wood. Ben opened his eyes, confused—it wasn’t the noise he was expecting, and it had come from the wrong direction.

  Just as he realized what was happening, Ben felt a force surging up from the ground behind him. He jumped out of the way just in time.

  It was his father. He rose to his feet like a wild animal and raised a long, splintered plank over his head. He had ripped it from the wall of the shack, and with an angry roar, he threw himself between Ben and Tucker and toward the convict.

  He swung the board in a high arc and brought it down on the man’s head with a deep, dull thwack.

  The man’s eyes rolled back in his head, and with a pained moan, he crumpled back onto the floor in a sad heap.

  Ben’s dad staggered backward and slid down to the dirt floor again.

  “Dad!” Ben cried. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine,” his dad said, though he looked to Ben like he was anything but. He was pale as a sheet, with beads of sweat gathering on his forehead. He took short, fast breaths through his nose. “Tie him up, boys,” his dad said through gritted teeth.

  Ben and Tucker grabbed the ropes they had just removed from Ben and his dad, and quickly bound the man’s hands and feet.

  “You guys need to get out of here,” Ben’s dad said. “You have to go get help before the other one gets to the store.”

  “We’re not leaving you here!” Ben said. “No way.”

/>   “Ben, I can’t walk right now.”

  A bolt of fear passed through Ben. His eyes burned. He struggled to keep his emotions in check.

  “I’m okay,” his dad said. “You just have to trust me and go. Scout will stay with me.”

  “Dad—”

  “Your dad’s right,” Tucker said. “We can get help faster if we go on our own. We have to hurry. We just have to get far enough out of the woods to get cell service.”

  Tucker’s face was a mask of fear. He was anxious to get to his family.

  Ben knew they were right, but he still hated the hard truth: Leaving his dad behind was their best shot at saving him and protecting Tucker’s family.

  Ben looked back at his dad, fighting tears.

  “Go, Ben,” his dad said. “Take Hero to protect you. Scout and I will be here when you get back.”

  Ben nodded. “Okay.” He turned to the dogs. “Hero, Scout, come.” They scrambled immediately to his side, and he dropped to his knees so he was face-to-face with them. “Scout,” Ben said, scratching the younger dog behind the ear. “I need you to stay here and watch out for my dad—that’s your job now, got it?” Scout whimpered and let out a short bark. “Thanks, buddy.”

  Hero leaned down to Scout and placed his head on the back of the younger dog’s neck. The two dogs stayed that way for a moment, one folded over the other in a show of solidarity. Ben, his dad, and Tucker watched in appreciative silence.

  Ben stood up. He looked at Tucker, then down at Hero.

  “Hero, come,” he said. Hero pulled himself away from Scout and snapped to Ben’s side.

  With one backward look at his dad on the hard dirt floor, Ben—with a breaking heart but a clear sense of purpose—strode out of the shack and into the dark woods, headed to find help.

  18

  TUCKER LED THE WAY THROUGH THE woods. He knew the quickest path to his family’s store.

  The moon had passed behind a cloud, leaving them shrouded in darkness. The only light was the neon glow on Hero’s vest and Ben’s phone flashlight. He had lost his real flashlight after the snake bit him.

  Every few minutes, he checked his phone for service. Nothing. They were still a few miles into the woods.

  Tucker wended through the trees and hopped with ease over the roots and rocks that littered the ground. These were his woods—he could navigate them in darkness just as easily as he could in broad daylight.

  Ben knew Tucker was anxious to get to the store, but he was still moving steadily, calmly—almost as if there were no urgency at all.

  “You can’t be in a hurry in the woods,” Tucker said. For a second Ben thought he might have spoken his thoughts out loud. But no—that was just Tucker’s uncanny ability to know what Ben was thinking.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean the woods are in charge,” Tucker said. “Doesn’t matter how much of a rush you’re in, you have to stay calm and careful all the time. If you get worked up or try to move too fast, you’re in trouble. You’ll get lost or confused real fast. Calm and steady. That’s how you get through these woods.”

  Ben couldn’t argue with that logic. Last year, during the hurricane, he knew there had been moments when one false move could have gotten him hurt, or worse.

  “We’re going to make it in time, Tucker,” Ben said.

  “Yeah,” Tucker said simply, ducking under a low branch.

  Hero darted through the trees. Ben was exhausted. His feet felt like lead, but he was propelled forward by adrenaline and a desperate desire to help Tucker’s family the way Tucker had helped his.

  Finally, the tree line began to thin out. The air in the woods grew lighter, less damp. They were approaching the edge of the forest.

  Ben checked his phone again. He had a signal. “It’s working—tell me the address of your family’s store,” he said. Tucker gave it to him, and Ben fed the information to the 911 dispatcher. He also begged her to send a team to his dad’s location as quickly as possible.

  Ben clicked off the call and texted his mom four words: Found Dad. All good.

  Her reply popped up so quickly that he couldn’t believe she could type that fast.

  I LOVE YOU was her immediate reply.

  Love you too. Help coming. Call you soon, he wrote before sliding the phone back into his pocket.

  They stepped out of the woods and onto a blacktop road. Tucker immediately broke into a run. “It’s a quarter mile from here,” he called out over his shoulder. “Follow me.”

  Ben tried to keep up, though it was harder than he’d realized to run flat out with one arm in a sling. Hero slowed his pace to stay close to him.

  The trio arrived at the edge of a parking lot. They stopped behind a large trash Dumpster, catching their breath and surveying the scene.

  From across the lot, the store was lit up in the night like a Christmas tree. Its entire front was a wall of windows, and even from afar, Ben could see row after row of neatly arranged chips and toilet paper and magazines.

  He also saw Tucker’s mom and stepdad behind the register, their hands high in the air.

  Standing across the counter from them was the prisoner, holding a gun. It was pointed straight at them.

  Tucker gasped, and Ben put a steadying hand on his shoulder. Hero growled low and long.

  The convict took a step toward Tucker’s parents. His stepdad moved in front of his mom and held out a hand toward the man with the gun. He looked like he was trying to calm him down. Ben could tell from the prisoner’s body language that he was in no mood to be calm.

  They needed a plan—fast.

  Ben tried to focus. He shut his eyes and took a deep breath. He opened them again.

  They couldn’t go in the front door—that was clear.

  “Is there another door?” he asked Tucker.

  “Yeah, in the back.” Tucker’s voice was tight. He didn’t tear his eyes away from the tense scene inside as he spoke.

  “Can he see or hear it from where he is?”

  Tucker shook his head. “No. It’s in another room. It’s separated by a door that’s always closed.”

  “That’s good.” Ben mapped out a plan. “Here’s what we’re going to do . . .”

  Within minutes, Ben and Hero had moved around the perimeter of the building and positioned themselves outside the back door. Tucker was ready to head in through the front door, to distract the man holding his parents hostage.

  Ben fumbled with the key ring Tucker had given him. He slipped the back door key into the lock and took a long, slow breath. Focus, he told himself. Breathe. He looked down at Hero.

  “You ready, buddy?”

  Hero gazed up at him with his steady brown eyes. He stood with his four legs perfectly aligned and his head cocked, poised to move at Ben’s command. Hero’s ears were up and back, and his nostrils flared with short, quick breaths.

  They were ready.

  Ben reached for the handle of the metal door and pulled it open.

  He and Hero stepped into a narrow stockroom lined from floor to ceiling with shelves. Directly ahead of them, another door led into the store.

  “Please, sir,” Ben heard a man saying calmly. “Take whatever you need. My wife and I are not going to cause you any trouble at all.”

  “You’d better not!” the other man hollered. “Not if you know what’s good for you!”

  “We gave you the cash already. Just tell us what else you need and we can get it for you.”

  “You stay right where you are or I—” The man stopped mid-sentence. “What the— Who are you? Where the heck did you come from?”

  “Tucker!” a woman’s voice cried out in surprise and fear.

  Tucker was inside—that meant the man was distracted and facing the front of the store. It was time for Ben and Hero to move.

  “Hero, go!” Ben said softly as he eased open the door leading into the store. They moved through together.

  It all happened at once.

  Ben pointed down an
aisle to his left, giving Hero the hand signal to run that way. Hero shot off down the aisle toward the front of the store.

  Ben stepped into the open aisle that ran along the back of the store.

  “Hey!” he shouted at the man with the gun. The convict spun around at the sound of Ben’s voice. There was a wild, frantic look in his eye—Ben could tell that their campaign of confusion was working.

  “You don’t learn, do you, kid?” He pointed the gun at Ben. “I thought I made myself clear back there. This is no business of yours—just stay out of it.”

  “The cops are on their way,” Ben shouted, his voice strong and steady—though his heart was trying to escape from his chest, and he had broken out in a cold sweat.

  Ben kept his eyes locked on the man’s face, but in the background, he saw Tucker take a step toward his parents. Tucker’s mom reached under the counter and pulled out a baseball bat.

  Just then, Hero rounded the corner behind the convict at top speed. Ben heard the sound of his claws on the linoleum floor just before the man did. In the millisecond after he registered the sound behind him, the man’s expression changed from one of aggression to one of fear. He tried to spin around to face Hero, but it was too late.

  Hero had vaulted into the air, lifting off with his back legs. He bared his teeth and snarled, his ears flat against the sides of his head and his front legs extended straight out in front of him. Hero hung suspended in midair for an excruciatingly long moment, until his giant paws made contact with the man’s back.

  There was a thunk, and the man grunted as the air was knocked out of his lungs. He fell forward like a bag of rocks, hitting the ground so hard Ben felt the floor vibrate. The blow knocked the gun from his hand, and it skittered across the floor toward the back of the store—and Ben.

  Ben stepped on the gun, instantly stopping its spinning progress, and kicked it behind him into the stockroom. Hero stood on top of the convict, his strong legs pressing down on the man’s ribs. He barked and growled at the back of the man’s greasy head.

  Ben looked past Hero at Tucker and his parents. Their faces registered their relief—and their awe at Hero’s amazing takedown. Tucker rushed over to them, and they wrapped one another in a grateful hug.