CHAPTER 4
Chkk-chkk... The group froze as the sound of a cocking gun emitted from the vast darkness in front of them, but it sounded dangerously close and the sudden feeling of being watched swooped over the group; like the stars above them were each individual and vigilant eyes.
Sara held the revolver in front of her, trigger finger itching and barrel trained at the space of darkness that the noise seemed to have come from; Jimmy carefully stalked and to James, Ariel followed but was stopped by Jimmy holding his arm out and motioning her to stay back as he silently drew a five cylinder Ruger LCRx .38 special form the back of his porch and pointed it in front of his face, training his eyes down the sights.
Jimmy's finger danced and slightly squeezed the trigger, "We heard you!" he yelled over the heavy downpour of rain splashing against the softening and muddy forest floor. "Step forth, and reveal yourself."
James pointed the flashlight down at the muddy floor and saw as two feet slowly plopped down on the mud about ten feet ahead of the group. The feet were adorned in red velvet Nike high tops with black laces and the golden Nike swoosh logo decorated either side of each shoe.
"Atta boy," said Jimmy calmly like he was baiting a runaway puppy, "Now... drop the gun. We know you have it. Just drop it and I'm warning you, we have two loaded guns back here." Ariel stood behind Jimmy and next to Ed and Matt. She knew this was Jimmy making a passive-aggressive threat, what he called a warning, and she knew her boyfriend was quite proficient with a firearm and particularly so with this gun; she knew this because courtroom assassinations were a daily thing and legend be foretold that he could shoot the gun right out of the assailant's hand. Those who knew him best could argue that he was as much a detective and cop as much as he was one of the nation's most notorious attorneys.
"No." said a shallow voice that was quiet but echoed through everyone's heads. The feet stood completely still.
"What the hell do you mean by 'No'." yelled Jimmy back at the voice that they could only assume was accompanied with the red and gold Nike's. He curved his finger anxiously around the cold metal trigger.
"Just no. I need it." the voice in the darkness had a slight tinge of a Russian accent and the voice was light like the cold wind and tenuous like the brittle and crunchy leaves still gradually making their descent from the increasingly skeletal oak trees back at home.
"Drop the damn gun!" barked Jimmy; the veins in his neck stuck out like a sore thumb. He waited a second in absolute silence except for the natural sounds of the forest. After a couple suspenseful moments, the Nike's were still frozen in place' but no gun lay beside them on the groggy ground.
The Ruger Jimmy carried with him everywhere was a true death dealing stunner, double action so with the squeeze of the trigger he quickly chambered the bullet just as quick he released the trigger; striking the firing pin and sending the .22 LR bullet through the air with bang and ending with a "Crack!" as it buried itself in a distant tree.
The unknown person screamed and stumbled forward with hands reaching for the sky and gun dropped in the muddy grass. The group was astounded as a beautiful young woman with wavy blonde hair capped with a snap back with a neon blue bill and black cap stumbled out in a over the neck yellow bikini and jeans. Mascara ran from her eyes but her candy red lipstick still vibrant and gleaming in the peak moonlight.
She was shivering and mumbling in what Jimmy could only discern as Russian and her breathing was shallow and sluggish as it appeared in wispy gaseous before her deep, oceanic eyes; her pupils dilated. Jimmy immediately recognized this as the symptoms of hypothermia and acting quickly, he stripped of his leather jacket and put it over the girl's shoulders. He pocketed his pistol and started towards the cabin with everyone else following suit.
Jimmy's evidently strong and savior-like arm wrapped around the traumatized girl who was still mumbling inaudibly in Russian and used the other arm to push open the back door of the cabin and sat her down on the couch. Surely, Jimmy thought, the warmth of the fireplace would cease her unbaiting shivering.
The Russian girl looked up to Jimmy, standing over her, with large otherworldly beautiful eyes that were smeared with black mascara. Her eyes conveyed a sense of emergency and fear, and looked up to Jimmy with a grateful and vulnerable appearance; a slight grin spread from her high cheekbones.
"Moy spasitel." she said with a chuckle, briefly showcasing her milky white teeth before turning to the side to release a very distorted and mucus ridden cough.
"She said you're her savior,” said Matt leaning against the kitchen counter, sounding tired. He had learned Russian from Sara's older brother when he was a teenager.
"Or, the architect of our doom. It all depends, I've been called both many times." said Jimmy said with great pride. Ariel, on the other hand, looked at him with scorn and rolled her yes, while Jimmy stood strongly with his muscular arms crossed. She had always hated Jimmy's nature of duality and occasional manipulative attitude. But at the end of the day, she understood that it was all a bi-product of his strenuous and psychologically and mentally testing job.
The Russian girl seemed to be briefly offended by the suggestion before realizing that after the horror's she had just witnessed and fled from earlier, that if there was even a one percent chance that she was a threat to their survival, they had to take it as an absolute certainty.
Jimmy kneeled in front of the oddly bikini-clad girl who couldn't have been older than 30 and met her frosty blue eyes with his. They were lovely yet dead and cold, "What's your name?" inquired Jimmy.
The girl stuttered and mumbled as if in order to find the way to form the words of her second language, "Darya."
"Ok. Nice to meet you Darya." said Jimmy as he extended his greeting hand with a blindingly bright smile, one that could outshine a thousand stars. Darya shook his hand with her gentle hand whose fingernails were painted candy red, matching her lips. "Someone get Darya a shirt!" he shouted as Darya met him with an equally white smile.
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