Chapter 1

She was cold and wet. Her wrists hurt from the handcuffs and she had no idea where they were, though she’d tried to pay attention to the sounds of the road and the turns they had taken. The road had been bumpy and unpaved for some time, but the possibilities were endless. Today had started like any other day, until she found herself here in this dark van, the windows covered, with two men she had never seen before.

She wondered, was it something to do with her father’s politics? Surely it couldn’t be financially motivated. Her father was not particularly wealthy, though he was a well-known politician. Perhaps it was one of the domestic terrorist groups needing some attention, like children who act out because they feel no one is listening to them. People who feel powerless are the most dangerous. She looked at the emotionless faces staring at her in the dark. She willed her heart to slow down once again. She thought about the average start to her day. This comforted her.

She had had a productive morning at work, finishing her paperwork and looking forward to working on the photographs for the nature magazine, Outback, after an early lunch. She had met her boyfriend, Stefan, at the restaurant at 11:00. He was even more carefully manicured than usual for the business meeting he’d had earlier. What she wouldn’t give to be sitting again at that cozy table eating her lentil soup and talking about the latest political gossip with him. They had been discussing the rumors about who had shot the Vice President two weeks ago. The media seemed to be all but completely convinced that it was the Pacific Northwest Alliance. But why hadn’t the PNWA taken responsibility for it publicly? Their quest for Pacific Northwest Province secession from the country had evidently stirred them to own up to the bombing outside the Senate earlier in the year, although there were conflicting reports about it. The Vice President had been in firm opposition to Pacific Northwest secession from the Union and, as a long-standing friend of the President, could have persuaded him to veto.

“It’s just so hard to believe what I read these days, though,” Chesska had told Stefan after taking a sip of her ice water, “There are too many journalists willing to outright lie in order to get a story and sell news. And then the bigger news agencies just seem to regurgitate government spin, don’t you think?”

Stefan nodded slightly and reached over to wipe a dribble from her chin as he replied, “Something needs to be done about how we get our news. But it’s really the public’s fault. Shitty news wouldn’t sell if there weren’t people buying it. There used to be a time when investigative journalism actually had to do with fact finding and wheedling out the truth. Those days seem to be long gone. One thing is certain: the big news agencies may be a mouthpiece for the government, but at least they deal mostly in facts and information. With the smaller blogs, you never know what you’re getting.”

It was all so complicated - what a mess, thought Chesska.

“You look nice today,” she said, not in the mood to carry on with this serious subject in-depth. “Did your meetings go well?” “Thanks,” he smiled, flicking a piece of lint from his sleeve, “Yep, I’m pretty sure I landed the Donavan account. Remember that vacation I’ve been wanting to take you on? It might just happen. I’ll find out early next week.”

The waiter arrived with the check and Stefan reached for it.

“Why don’t you let me get it this time,” Chesska offered, taking out her wallet.

“No, sweetheart. I wouldn’t think of it,” he pushed her hand away. “I’ve got to run. Bernhart is expecting me to report back to him shortly.”

Chesska stood and gathered her things. Just outside the door, Stefan grabbed her and kissed her deeply. She didn’t care for this type of display. They were blocking the door, for goodness sake! She pulled away and squeezed his hand.

“I’ll see you later. Give me a call tonight?”

She thought once more of her warm lentil soup and her perfectly manicured Stefan. Safe. At the time, of course, she hadn’t appreciated him fully. In fact, she’d been getting bored of Stefan in the last three months. It was difficult to grasp why she didn’t feel any passion for him lately. What had changed? Was she incapable of making it last with the same person over time? That seemed so superficial.

The van hit a large pothole and the jolt brought Chesska firmly back to her current reality. Her father, like the Vice President, was also firmly against PNWP secession. The vote was coming up in a few months. Could this be why these men had kidnapped her?

How long had they been driving? Her thoughts returned to what had brought her to this moment.

Damn! She had been thinking just last week that she really should change up her route. She had been on her way up the steep incline towards the last third of her daily after work jog. It had just started to rain, but felt good mixed with the sweat and heat from her body. She loved to run. Nothing else seemed to ease her tension or give her the same high.

Above her own intense breathing, she had heard a motorbike coming up behind her. She moved to the side of the path, turning to make sure she wasn’t going to get hit, when someone came at her from the side out of the bushes and grabbed her arms, jerking them behind her savagely. A rag was shoved in her mouth, and a knit cap pulled over her eyes before she even had time to process what was happening. She breathed furiously through her nose, her lungs screaming, having already been out of breath from the run. She tried to kick and run, but the person behind her was stronger. Maybe the driver of the motorbike would see what was going on and help, she’d thought at the time, but then she could hear the bike right next to them.

Her arms were shoved into some kind of rough jacket that was too snug and she was lifted up and placed on the back of the motorbike. Her arms were pulled forward and strapped tightly around the driver and her ankles to the bike. No matter how hard she struggled and tugged, she couldn’t move. Her muffled screams were frustratingly quiet through the rag shoved in her mouth.

It seemed like only seconds had passed and she was flying along on the back of the motorbike with no idea which direction they were headed now. Her eyes were still covered by the knit cap, her shorts and t-shirt wet against her skin. She was freezing, the wind whipping at her bare legs, and tree branches and bushes slapping at her, as they negotiated some of the narrow trails. There was smooth pavement, then, but only for a minute until she was inside some kind of structure (a garage?) and was being unstrapped from the ankles and lifted up. She struggled again, but to no avail, as she was roughly set down on a hard cold metal surface. Doors slammed and finally someone lifted the knit cap off her eyes. She was in a dark van, windows crudely covered with cardboard and tape, with two men staring at her.

They drove for some time before they took the rag out of her mouth as they sped up onto a freeway. Hours later the pavement turned to gravel.

Chesska had no idea where she was and this discouraged her beyond belief. She was struggling against her fear, and wanted to stay on top of this situation, to grasp some kind of control. She felt her eyes smart with tears. She tried to ask questions and pleaded for them to give her a blanket or at least take the handcuffs off.

“Listen, I don’t know why you’ve taken me. I’m sure I can help you if you just talk to me and tell me what’s going on. Please, I’m so cold. Can’t you take these handcuffs off and give me something warm?”

She glanced down at what looked like a modified straight jacket she’d been wearing on the back of the motorbike. They had removed it and placed the handcuffs on during the van ride. She was so frozen that even that jacket looked inviting.

Not a word was spoken by her captors. Just cold stares. They were obviously of mixed culture. Chesska was of north-east quadrant ancestry and this was fairly obvious as well - her hair straight and light blonde, her eyes blue and her skin very pale. These two men had black hair and darker skin, but no easily identifiable cultural history. Probably a great mix in them both, which reminded her of her father’s admonishment to try to keep the family’s ancestry as simple as possible. He, like most people Chesska knew, believed mixing too many backgrounds together risked losing one’s culture and sense of belonging. Those who mixed with other cultures and could no longer speak their ancestors’ language were looked down upon.

Chesska thought about her father and immediately felt another pang of homesickness. Her mother had passed away when she was fourteen, and Dad had raised Chesska by himself, while still trying to maintain his political career, despite the long hours required. Chesska remembered the time they had been at the beach for a rare three-day weekend away, that same year her mother had passed away. There had been a sixteen-year-old mixed heritage boy flirting with her at the ice cream shop while her father parked the car. When Dad came in and found her laughing at something the boy had said, his look of distaste was enough to stop her in her tracks. He later explained to her, as he had countless times before, that it was not a good idea to even befriend these people. Why start even a casual friendship with someone who would never truly understand what was right and wrong and how to live life within the moral codes of her cultural heritage? It was unfortunate that mixed culture people didn’t have generations of groundwork to guide them through life. But our pity for their lost way should not be cause for guilt or any obligation to educate them, her dad had reiterated. There was nothing that could be done. It was just an unfortunate situation. Chesska should count herself lucky and be careful not to mix too closely with them. They would only resent her for the ease with which she would navigate through life. He added that their resentment is what led to crime, hatred born of jealousy, and even terrorism, which had confused her at the time.

Thinking of what her father had said, she observed her captors now in the van. It was true, these people seemed to wander through life with no direction and no moral groundwork. No doubt they were from the Pacific Northwest Province, where many of them gathered because of the abundance of manufacturing jobs. There were also vast areas of wilderness in the PNWP. She shuddered, could they have gotten that far?

Finally the van slowed and stopped.

Chapter 2

She heard men talking outside the van. There was no other sound. No traffic, no sign of civilization that she could hear. The van door opened. It was dark outside. She shielded her face with her hands as a flashlight shined in her eyes.

“She’s freezing! What’s wrong with you?” said a male voice, with irritation.

She couldn’t see him well in the darkness as he ducked in and knelt before her.

“I’m going to unlock your handcuffs. I want you to change into these clothes. Here’s a flashlight,” he pressed something into her hand and closed her fingers over it. His voice was callous, “We’ll open the doors in a few minutes. We’ve got some hiking to do. Don’t even think about trying to struggle. You really don’t have a chance and we don’t want to have to hurt you.”

The van doors slammed shut. She rubbed her wrists and shivered. Gripping the flashlight, she realized it was not large enough to do any damage. Her immediate hope of surprising whoever opened the van door with a crack to the skull was dashed. She shined the light on the pile of clothes on the van floor. They looked invitingly warm. She was terrified of where she was being taken and what they might do to her, but had to admit she couldn’t wait to move her cold stiff body. It took her a while to change because of numb fingers and shaken nerves. She tried to take deep breaths. Chesska knew she would feel stronger and better when she warmed up and assessed the situation. The clothes all fit surprisingly well, including the hiking boots and warm socks. She took a few more deep breaths and tried to brace herself for what lay ahead.

The van door opened. She flashed the light onto the faces of three men.

“Bathroom? Water? Now is your chance,” said the same man who had given her the clothes.

“Yes,” she answered.

She slid down onto the ground and he took her arm. She saw that there were six men all together. Two of them held guns pointed at her. He led her behind a bush.

“I’ll turn my back while you do what you need to do, but don’t try anything stupid. We want to use as little force as possible.” His voice was deep and stern.

How very kind of you, she thought, sarcastically.

Was this her only chance to escape? He had mentioned hiking. They were currently on a dirt road that looked like it had not been in recent use. The further they hiked from here, the more lost she would be and the further from help and civilization. It was unlikely they would run into any other hikers. It was illegal to be out in the mountains unless you were a scientist or photographer doing further research on wildlife. The Union had decided 15 years ago that all people should live in cities and had created huge green spaces in and around the cities such as the one near her apartment where she took her daily run. The backcountry and mountains were off-limits in order to save the remaining wildlife from human contamination and destruction of their natural habitat. Dirt roads and trails remained, but it had been about three years since the wildlife areas were officially banned to humans and the penalty was so stiff, that she couldn’t imagine running into anyone else out here. Even before the mountains were legally off limits, it was unfashionable to disturb the wildlife in the backcountry by hiking or backpacking as they’d done in the old days, at least in the circles Chesska ran in.

The man turned his back to her. She quickly decided she had to run for it. She knew she couldn’t be quiet enough in this terrain to sneak away while his back was turned so she just lurched forward and started running as quickly as her stiff body could go. It was not long before he had her in his strong grip.

“Listen,” he said, through gritted teeth with steely control, “If you try this again, you’re going to have to hike through very rough terrain with your hands cuffed while carrying your load on your back. This’ll cause you a lot of discomfort. We’re not here to hurt you, but there’s no escape and if you continue to struggle we will resort to violence. You may as well make it easy on yourself, do you understand?”

She was relieved this man did not seem inclined to hurt her. When he’d caught her by the arms from behind, she’d been prepared for violence. He sounded angry and irritated and was talking to her as if she were a misbehaving toddler. She nodded, dispirited.

“Please,” she said desperately, “Why did you kidnap me? What are you looking for? Maybe I can help.”

He looked at her and his voice softened just slightly but his eyes were cold, “You are helping, though against your will. We’re looking for one vote in favor of Pacific Northwest Province secession from the Union. That’s how tight the count is for and against, according to our sources. We know your father loves you and wants you back.”

“But the vote isn’t for another few months!” she exclaimed.

“And that’s how long we’re going to be in the mountains,” he said. “We want your father to have plenty of time to try his other options in getting you back. After these have failed and he’s good and desperate, he really won’t have a choice about the vote. There’s also something else we want him to do. He’s to admit his part in poisoning our people with experimental cancer drugs against their knowledge. He’ll do this publicly during a press conference after the vote. We’re confident he’ll follow through on both of our requests in order to see you again.”

Chesska gasped involuntarily. What the hell was he talking about? Her fear deepened, traveling down her entire spine. These people were clearly deranged.

“You can’t be serious,” she said, pleading, “There is no way my father would be involved in poisoning anyone. He really values all life, unlike...” she trailed off, not wanting to be too forthright with her criticism.

“You’re wrong, of course,” said the man, with no feeling. “But I don’t blame you for believing that bullshit. Most do, and you were raised right in the thick of their propaganda. Let’s try this again. And make it quick,” he snapped.

He turned his back again and she squatted to relieve herself, using leaves for toilet paper. When she was done, he turned to take her arm again and they moved back to the others.

Another man handed her a water bottle. She sniffed it, and hoping for the best, gulped some down to quench her intense thirst.

“Let me help you get your pack on,” said the man who had led her behind the bush. He appeared to be the leader of the others. “You’ll follow behind me in the middle.”

The other men put large backpacks on and they headed up a trail. Chesska’s backpack was extremely heavy and she was afraid she wouldn’t last long, but after her body got moving, she was surprised at her strength. She couldn’t see much beyond her. They were on a narrow trail at a pretty steep incline and she no longer had any light. Only the person in front had a flashlight and all Chesska could do was follow the man in front of her with two men directly behind her and nowhere to go but up the trail.

Y’know, I’ve already had my run today and all you people have been doing is sitting on your asses hiding in the bushes, she thought.

Her breathing was becoming labored, but she kept up. Her mind was racing. How could she make her next attempt to escape? She felt the panic rise up again as the idea of being out here with her kidnappers for two whole months began to really sink in. She tried to keep her mind from drifting to all the horrible things that could happen to her if she didn’t escape soon. It made her feel nauseous and shake every time she thought of the possibilities. Would they rape or torture her? Would she starve or be forced to march on until she dropped? Would they cut off her finger and send it to her father to up the ante like they did in the movies? There were only two things that were helping her stay upright and not keel over from pure fear and anxiety: the hope that she would find a way to escape soon, and the fact that the leader had not yet used physical violence, even after her failed attempt to run away. She clung to this last thought and convinced herself she had to keep hoping for the best instead of thinking of the worst.

Her assumptions regarding the PNWA being behind her kidnapping appeared to be correct. As far as some kind of poisoning of their people, could she convince them they must have it wrong? After all, the Union valued life more than the PNWA, and this was one of the points on which they differed and another reason the PNWA should probably have their own country. For the most part, the Union’s people were all vegetarian. Farming animals for sale as food and hunting had long been outlawed. The PNWA’s people had been hunting for food, but prosecuted whenever caught. The Union was anti-abortion, anti-death-penalty, and pro life in every way she could think of. They truly valued all life. The PNWA, on the other hand, believed in abortion, the death penalty, hunting and some farming. If anyone was poisoning anyone, it was the PNWA. They were even still smoking cigarettes sneaked in from other countries when they could get away with it. Talk about poison.

She watched the leader in front of her. He was tall, had broad shoulders and a strong physique. The other five men she hadn’t seen as closely, but they all seemed to be like him in age, 30’s to mid-40’s, she guessed, and they all, at first glance, were mixed.

She had been sympathetic to their cause, as ironic as it seemed in this moment. She’d always thought, why not let them have their own country with boundaries roughly drawn around where they congregated in the first place? Nobody else really wanted to mix with them, anyway, and if someone did, they could go live there. She knew her father was against secession because of the manufacturing plants that were concentrated in the cities in that area, but couldn’t the Union still own the factories in the new country and just use the PNWA’s people for labor there? Nobody Chesska knew would be able to live off of the salaries paid in manufacturing plants.

Her legs were beginning to feel like Jell-o. Chesska turned her thoughts back to her father again. The last time she’d seen him was last week on Thursday, when she’d made dinner for him at his place.

“Remind me why Stefan couldn’t make it tonight,” her father had said.

“He had a sore throat, Dad. Be honest, it’s nice just the two of us, isn’t it?”

He smiled and raised his wine glass, “Here’s to our excellent father-daughter relationship. It still amazes me that I haven’t screwed it up yet.”

Chesska laughed and clinked glasses with him.

“I love you, Dad.”

“I love you, too, honey. And you know, I love Stefan. He’s like a son to me now.”

Chesska coughed into her wine glass.

“Dad, I don’t know. Please don’t pressure me into making him family just yet. We’re having a rough patch.”

Her father looked at her sharply, “What’s wrong? Is he having second thoughts or getting cold feet?”

“No, it’s me. And I don’t want to talk about it. I’m sure it’ll all blow over. There’s nothing for you to worry about. I just wish you would lose the ‘like a son to me’ talk at the moment. You mean the world to me and your opinion means the world to me, but I need to figure this stuff out on my own, you know? Without all the parental pressure.”

She had helped him clean up and they had watched a comedy on television. He had kissed her forehead on her way out and said,

“Chesska, I love you no matter what. You know that. But I can’t help hoping you’ll get your act together about Stefan.”

Chesska had left feeling a bit miffed at that last comment. But her father was probably right. He had always known what was best for her. Why would that change now?

Her thoughts were interrupted when they reached a small clearing and stopped. Time to set up camp. One of the men got a lantern out of his pack and lit it. It was quite bright. As they busied themselves setting up the tents, Chesska took the opportunity to size up each of her captors carefully.

“I’m sure you need something to eat by now,” said the leader. “You have some food in your pack.”

The mention of food made her practically swoon with hunger. She rummaged through her pack and found some bagels. She ate one and drank from her water bottle. She felt much more optimistic afterwards. And stronger. Surely tonight there would be a chance to escape while everyone slept. As if on cue, the leader spoke,

“We’ll be taking turns guarding you during the days, but you’ll be sleeping with me in a double-bag at night.”

Oh my God, he couldn’t be serious, Chesska thought. Her optimism turned to alarm that made her shudder with a loud intake of breath. This did not go unnoticed.

“Let me just remind you, Chesska,” said the leader, condescendingly, “We in the PNWA truly respect women, unlike how you grew up with your atheistic every-man-for-himself culture. Our Goddess religion only reinforces our belief that women should be equal and respected in every way.” His tone thawed a bit, “You have nothing to fear from me. My eye is kept firmly on our political goals, and I’m not about to go back on our group’s principles by degrading you.”

“And you think you haven’t done so already by taking me hostage against my will?” she said, suddenly angry instead of fearful.

Anger felt so much better than fear, something Chesska realized she would need to keep in mind in the days ahead. “What a bunch of hypocrites!” she couldn’t help adding.

“If your father had a son instead of a daughter, we would’ve taken him in the same manner,” he responded, calmly, “Sometimes short term sacrifices in personal freedom need to be made for the greater goal. And your father’s son also would’ve slept in my double bag at night. It’s the best way to prevent escape. It’s either that or we tie you up.”

Chesska wasn’t sure which she preferred in this case.

The men gathered all of the food from each pack and strung the food bags high in the air. Chesska realized that either the bears were doing well in this area, or the men were just being extremely cautious. How would they last months in the mountains with only the food in their packs? She decided that was probably the least of her concerns right now.

The leader led her into the tent and the bright lantern outside was extinguished. He turned on a flashlight and told her to get into the pajamas that were folded on top of the large double-sleeping-bag. He sat turned away at the tent entry until she was done and in the sleeping bag. The pajamas fit perfectly, which was unsettling. She used the sweater she’d been wearing as a pillow, scooted as far as she could to the very edge of the bag and curled on her side with her back to him. She could hear him changing clothes and then felt him crawl in. The bag was big enough that they weren’t quite touching, but she could feel his body warmth. She was nervous. She didn’t trust him one bit.

“I’m a light sleeper,” he said, “So, as I said, there’s no escape and you’ll be making things very tough for yourself if you do anything but get a good night’s rest for tomorrow’s hike.”

As Chesska tried to get comfortable and push her fear aside, the questions flooded back in.

“Listen,” Chesska said, “How can you possibly think my father would have anything to do with poisoning your people? We value all life. How can you, who kill and eat animals, who kill unborn children when you can get away with it, who believe in the death penalty, who bombed outside the Senate and assassinated the Vice President…”

“Whoa whoa, whoa,” he cut in, “I’m happy to discuss with you our ideals, but you need to get your facts straight first. We had nothing to do with the bombing outside the Senate or the assassination of the V.P. The spokesperson for our group who admitted to the bombing was a planted agent from the Union Government. The government and the big media are both all too happy to see us get blamed for the V.P. assassination as well. There’s a conspiracy against us to keep us marginalized and feared, and people would love to see us blamed for any violence,” he paused and then added, “True, we’ve taken you hostage, but that’s because we’re desperate. It was the only option we felt we had left. We remain powerless if we can’t achieve independence. The government has labeled us “terrorists” and the media has perpetuated the myth. In a sense, we’re now playing into that by taking you, but we felt our hand was forced. It wasn’t done lightly.”

Chesska considered what this man was saying. He seemed paranoid, with his conspiracy talk.

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