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And any semi-sane man knew you didn’t bring a knife to a gun fight.
It took about twenty minutes for him to reach the point where he could see a clearing ahead, where the moon was illuminating some metal roofs. That was when he slipped into the trees and carefully picked through the brush, circling around the clearing, trying to get his bearings, trying to get a good idea of the layout. The main clearing was huge and mostly leveled out. It had a few large buildings, some shacks and what looked like a barn. He could hear the low grunts of some pigs in a pen nearby. Maybe even the rustle of some other animals.
He was good as long as they weren’t human. Calling the Shirleys human was pushing it.
Most of the sheds were built half-assed. Shitty cars and trucks, some with flat tires and rusted out fenders, were parked haphazardly around the open space. He noticed more lanes going higher up the mountain and deeper into the woods like spokes on a half wheel. He assumed they led to more clearings and buildings. Maybe those dirt lanes led to little “homesteads” where they raised their inbred snot monkeys.
Judge had suggested he take pictures of the layout but it was too dark for them to turn out decent enough to be of use. Instead, he saved it all to memory, figuring once he got back, he might be able to hand draw some sort of map.
Through the trees, he could see a bigger home with a few lights on in the second floor windows. He wondered if that was where the “leader” of their sovereign nation lived.
The Guardians of Freedom was what they called themselves. Which was a fucking joke since Red had hardly been free. If she had been, he had no doubt she would not have come up this mountain on her own. She would not have volunteered to subject herself to whatever happened.
Even if it wasn’t the leader who hurt Red, the man knew it happened and most likely had a hand in it. Sig doubted anything happened on that mountain the leader of the Shirley Clan wasn’t aware of.
He skirted around a few rusty, abandoned cars tucked within the trees and made his way to the run-down barn which looked like it had been built with a mix of materials. Wood planks, sheets of metal, whatever scrap they could repurpose. It had a fence around it and Sig heard a low bawl of a cow from somewhere close.
His nose wrinkled, reminding him of when Red did it, as the stench of piss and shit burned his nostrils.
He had one single focus tonight. That was to find where they had kept Red.
He needed to see for himself where she’d been locked up. Where she’d been forced to submit.
Where they tried to break her and bend her to their will.
Where they tried to make her theirs.
As he headed behind the barn, another shed was tucked along a tree line with the door hanging partially open. A stack of split firewood sat next to it, along with a crude homemade furnace with a pipe running from the top into the shed.
A fucking tiny shed with heat? That didn’t make any sense. Unless it was a smokehouse, most sheds, even outhouses, weren’t heated. Not that he knew much about homesteading or farming. He didn’t know dick about it, but he had some sort of common sense. More than these uncle-daddy fuckers.
He carefully made his way closer, his head on a swivel to make sure none of them were up and about, making rounds or anything. Just waiting to plug some buckshot into his ass.
As he got closer, his stride stuttered as the stench that came from inside seemed a bit pungent.
That wasn’t smoked meat inside that shed. Unless they were smoking rotten roadkill.
He pulled the collar of his long-sleeved T-shirt up and over his nose as he moved forward. The door had two metal hasps on it. One at the top, one closer to the bottom. And two open padlocks hung from each metal loop screwed to the outside wall. He grabbed the edge of the door and slowly opened it, the hair on the back of his neck now standing, the lump in his gut twisting, his mind racing.
Still holding the T-shirt over his nose, he pulled his cell out of his back pocket and hit the power button, quickly found the flashlight app and turned it on.
He closed his eyes for a split moment, simply to brace himself. If he thought his heart was pounding before, it was now ready to escape his chest.
He lifted his cell phone, pointing it inside and opened his eyes.
It was nothing but an empty room. He should be relieved since it had nothing except a bucket in one corner.
