I was startled awake by the banging of the barn door as it was thrown open with great force. I looked around the room, barely capable of focusing on the figure closing in on me. I vaguely felt my left arm being release, a pair of hands sitting me up, someone pulling me off the table. I knew something was happening, but try as I might, my sleep-deprived, pain-induced brain couldn't figure out what that something was.

When my feet met the floor, I nearly collapsed, but the man held me up with a rough hand pulling up the collar of my shirt. I stumbled forward as he pushed me towards the barn doors. "Get moving," he growled. "Faster."

I blinked at the bright light of the sun as I emerged from the barn. It had been so dark inside the wooden structure that the sunlight came as quite a shock to me. I covered my face with my good arm, cowering from the bright yellow ball in the sky that seemed to weigh down on my head like a hot iron.

The man didn't give me a chance to get accustomed to the outside world before he dragged me into some trees nearby. In a daze of blurry green, I found myself being taken through the woods. Before long, however, I was jolted to my senses from a violent shove forward. I tried to catch myself, but my arms met water and slippery, moss-covered rocks. Unable to break my fall, I landed on my broken wrist with a cry of surprise. I was sitting up, barely having taken my first breath of air, when I felt a hand grab my hair and another push on my shoulder. I gasped just in time before my head was pushed underwater.

Desperate for oxygen, I tried to find a grip on the rocks, but my hands just kept slipping. Just when I thought he was trying to drown me, the man pulled my head out of the water. "Stop-" I wheezed.

"Tell me where he's going," the man demanded.

I coughed, struggling to speak, and he pushed me back under the water. He held me under until I was almost out of air again before he pulled me back up. "Where is he?" he snarled.

I shook my head and he submerged me once more. I was exhausted. My broken wrist ached, my head hurt from the tug of his fingers at my scalp, and my scratches burned in the water. The world slowed to a crawl and I felt myself going. My resistance drained, and I lapsed into the water. I couldn't fight back anymore... Maybe this was the best way to go.

Suddenly, I was pulled out of the water and dragged onto the bank. Propped up on my hands and knees, I coughed up swallowed water that dribbled down my chin as I wheezed. I wasn't fully recovered when the man grabbed my collar from behind, choking me as he pulling to my feet. He was so close to my face, I could smell his sweat.

"Why are you loyal to him? What could he have done to gain your trust?" he asked, biting out every word like it sickened him to imagine it. "He is a traitor, a coward, and a murderer. He doesn't deserve your loyalty."

I could barely get the words past my waterlogged lungs, but I managed to sputter, "He may be... all those things... and more." I coughed raggedly; the water scratched my throat like broken glass. "But... above all else, he is a good man..." I said.

The stranger had had enough. He hauled me back to the barn like a dead doll. Once inside, he carelessly threw me in a corner and stormed out. After I heard the door's padlock click into place, I relaxed into the hay strewn around the floor. My wet clothes were cold on my skin and they stuck to me in all the worst places. The coldness dripped from my hair onto the floor, soaking the ground beneath me until I was lying in a puddle. I wanted to get up and bang on the door. I wanted to scream for help. But I was too tired. I could barely keep myself breathing, could barely wipe the water from my eyes. I just wanted to sleep some. Maybe then I could scream, I lied to myself.

*******

The car sped down the road, carrying Cliff, Zane, Rowen, and Rick to the apartment Cliff and Zane were leasing. Having already packed all of Rowen's belongings in the moving van, Rowen's computer wasn't worth a damn, and Rick would need a laptop to find Frank Dover's residence. When the group pulled up in front of the apartment, Rowen got out first without waiting for the others to catch up. "Cliff, keys," he demanded.

Cliff tossed him the keys to the front door and Rowen had it unlocked in seconds. He hurried to the laptop that was lying on a nearby desk. "Rick, get over here," he called.

The veteran sat down at the desk and pulled up the internet. In a few moments he had a window open that contained nothing but code lines and. He typed something, though there was nothing to type in, and a new screen opened. He clicked through some tabs and searched the name "Dover, Frank" for anything relevant. Finally, he informed the rest of them, "Believe it or not, he still lives on his farm. He's been renovating it."

"Then what are we waiting for? Let's go," Rowen snapped impatiently. "Every second we stand here talking is another second he has Kevin."

Everyone in the room nodded and prepared to leave. However, on their way out the door, Cliff grabbed Zane's wrist. "Stay here. I don't mean this to upset you, but you might just get in the way," he said.

Zane glared at him, appalled by his request. "You want me to sit around and do nothing?" he asked. "Kevin is my best friend."

"Yes, and if you want to help, you'll stay here and wait," Cliff said. "I beg you, it's the best thing you can do."

Begging or not, Zane wasn't about to stand by while his best friend was in trouble. Kevin had helped him in the past, so it was his turn to do the same. "You can't stop me," he said.

Though Cliff wanted to protest, Rowen shoved them both towards the front door. "I don't have time to wait for you two to make up your damn minds. Cliff, if he wants to put his ass into danger, let him," he said. "I'll be his fault."

Zane took his chance to hurry out the door. Rowen followed, Rick and Cliff at his heels. As everyone piled onto the car again, Rowen got in the driver's seat. Rick looked at him seriously. "You know the way there?" he asked.

Knuckles clenched white on the steering wheel, Rowen started the car. "I've never forgotten it."

*******

Though I yearned for sleep and would have fallen into the abyssal blackness of my dreams in an instant, I was only left alone for a few minutes. Sooner than I would have liked, the door to the barn opened and the man enter once again. I remained on my back with my eyes closed, unwilling to face him. The man had other plans. He dragged me up until I was sitting, resting my back against the wall for support. I kept my eyes on the ground.

"Look at me," the man said. Reluctantly, I obeyed. I shifted my eyes to meet his. They were calculating. Then he held up a photograph in front of my face and my stomach flipped with regret.

"Oh, God..." I breathed, staring at a gory photo of a man and a woman lying in pools of their own blood, holes in their heads where their temples should have been. He held up another, and another, and another, flipping through them just fast enough for me to see, react, and then see a new one. I looked away, unable to bear it anymore. "Please..." I whispered, wishing he would take them away already.

The man pushed a particularly gruesome picture towards me, close enough that I couldn't get it out of my sight. "Do you see this?" he asked. "How does this make you feel? Are you uncomfortable? Are you scared?"

I was sick to my stomach was what I was. I curled myself into a tight ball and refused to look at the photos. The man tossed them at my feet. "I'll let you choose," he said.

I looked at him.

"Either you tell me where he is," he said, "or this is your family."

I couldn't breathe. "What? No, you can't-"

"For your mother, I'll make it slow. For your father, maybe I'll make him watch." He picked up a picture of a lady who's stomach had been cut open; her intestines and blood covered everything. "How about this one? Seems sufficient enough to get the job done."

"My family has nothing to do with this!" I pleaded, looking at his face instead of the photo.

"Neither did mine, but look where that excuse got me," the man thundered. He stood up. "You have a choice," he said.

I stared up at him, my eyes filling with tears. "No... Please, this isn't right..." I begged. 

Furious, the man snatched up the photos. "Have it your way," he snarled. "Maybe I'll bring back your father's eyes to add to my collection."

He started to leave and I broke down into sobs, realizing what he was planning to do to my parents, my family. As he went to push the barn door open, I caved. "Wait!" I shouted, trying to crawl towards him. "I-I'll tell you!"

Like the flip of a switch, the looming figure of the man turned towards me. Any trace of anger was gone from his face when he looked at me. He looked calm, composed, triumphant. "Go on," he said.

I looked down as the defeat sunk in. He won. With a shaky inhale, I said, "He's in the mountains... Rowen has been living in the mountains."

*******

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