Freedom Ranch

Chapter 35

Colt pulled over a few miles from the cabin under the cover of trees. It was pitch black under the new moon, but the twilight of dawn was approaching. He jumped in the back of the truck to unlock the tool compartment. He pulled out the ballistic vest first, strapping it over his torso before grabbing a 9mm with an extra magazine. The rifles wouldn't be necessary. For now, he was just checking to see if she was even there and needed the backup of short distance firing. He slipped back into the driver's seat of the truck and returned to the empty highway until he was within walking distance of the cabin.

Parking the truck under the cover of thick trees, he quietly exited the truck and looked at his surroundings. There was thick brush everywhere. No trails, no signs of camping or visitors. He looked back down at the map before putting the phone in his pocket. It was due east at just under half a mile. Two thousand feet from where he was standing. He maneuvered around the trees at the ready, pistol in both hands, pointing out. He moved towards the growing light of dawn, keeping a straight line. How thick the brush was, it would be too easy to get lost. He quietly counted each step, hoping to get a general idea of how far he had walked.

Just as he reached the end of his count, a cabin came to view. There were no cars, no lights on from what he could see. It looked to be abandoned. The roof sagged under fallen dead foliage and the windows were dirty from years of neglect. Some windows had cracks and others were broken. He lowered his 9mm and approached one dark window and peered in. It looked empty and dusty. He walked over to another window; an old bed could be seen so broken it almost touched the ground. No chains like the reports had said. Maybe no one was here after all. He approached the last window close by the porch and felt his heart slam in his chest.

Dakota was standing in the kitchen unrecognizable. She was wearing a beautiful dress that was a stark contrast to the clear brutality she had received. As she crept around the kitchen, he noticed the heavy chain on her leg weighing her down and the red heels she was struggling to walk in. He could see she was in pain.

Colt held in every profanity and forced himself to tear his eyes off of her to look for Collin. He didn't see him anywhere. Was it possible he left her there, chained up during the day? There was only one way to find out. Not wanting to leave Dakota again, he decided it was time to get in and get out. He tiptoed on the porch and delicately turned the front doorknob to check if it was locked before breaking down the door. The knob turned a complete rotation, and he gently opened the door. He checked the living room, finding it was empty before slowly closing the door, careful not to make a noise and keep his eye open for any movement. He kept his gun drawn at the ready and approached the kitchen, his heart racing in his chest as he did, knowing Dakota was around the corner. He stopped as her eyes met his, growing wider by the second in disbelief.

"He's not here. I don't know where he is," she said with a shaky breath.

Colt dropped the firearm to his side and rushed up to Dakota.

"It's okay," whispered Colt, putting a hand on her cheek.

He was too afraid to hold her how bruised she looked. And he knew time wasn't on their side. He brushed a silent tear that escaped her eyes and looked down at the chain on her ankle.

"The key is in his pocket. I've tried to take it off but can't," she explained.

Colt looked for the anchor on the floor attached to a dry, rotted floorboard.

"He had power tools in the other room," said Dakota, pointing to the bedroom across the hall.

"We will try this first. On the count of three, both of us will pull at the same time. I think the floorboard won't stand a chance between us both."