Read Online The Drop by Jeff Ross - Free Book Online Page A

bent over to pick them up. If he had looked forward rather than down, he likely would have seen me. I didn’t move. I tried not to breathe. I held my head still and stared at the man, willing him to simply walk out the door and into the storm. He got three logs up into his arms, then dropped one of them. He cursed and pulled the cigarette out of his mouth. I couldn’t tell how heavy he was, because his jacket and snow pants were large and puffy, but he seemed huge. He puffed on his cigarette a couple of times, looking around the small space as though there might be something of interest there. Then he flicked the spent cigarette out into the snow, bundled the logs up into his arms again and kicked the door open. A terrible wind was blowing. Snow was whipping up into the air and then curling and rolling away. The man leaned into the wind as he kicked the door closed.
    I sighed and stretched out in my sleeping bag. I hoped that would be the last time someone came out for wood before I was out of there.
    â€œNot human out there,” someone said inside the cabin. I heard the logs drop to the ground in a clatter followed by the bang of the woodstove door opening. “Call him and let him know that we might have to delay.”
    â€œWe can’t delay,” someone else said. The voices were so muffled, I could barely tell one voice from another. “We might not have an option. If the weather doesn’t change, we’ll have to stay.”
    â€œWe can’t stay,” a third voice said. “Call him, see what’s happening on his side of the mountain.”
    â€œYou think it’s going to be any different over there?”
    â€œJust call and see.” I waited a long time to hear something else. But nothing came. I was extremely hungry. If my stomach made any more noise, the kidnappers would hear it. I quietly opened my backpack and dug through it until I found an energy bar.
    â€œIt’s clear,” someone said. “He says it’s clear over there.”
    â€œThen we go. Call your guy and set the coordinates for a pickup spot.”
    â€œWe still have to get out of here,” someone else said. “And what about the girl?” I hadn’t heard anything from Hope. But if they were talking about her, she must be all right.
    â€œWe can just leave her.”
    â€œNo, we can’t. She’ll follow us.”
    â€œThen we can tie her up in here.”
    â€œNo. What if no one comes this way and finds her? You can’t control that kind of thing.”
    â€œI don’t know! When this is all over, we can call someone and let them know.”
    â€œIt’s not that easy.” I still couldn’t really tell if there were two or three people talking. Before, I’d been certain I’d heard three distinct voices. Now I wasn’t so sure. “We shoot her,” a different voice said. Definitely three people, then. There was no response. Why was there no response? There were only two rooms: the main space and the bathroom. So Bryce and Hope must be locked up in the bathroom.
    I slipped out of my sleeping bag, rolled it up and stuffed it in my backpack. I kept my ear to the wall, waiting for an answer. No one was going to shoot Hope, I told myself. That wasn’t going to happen.
    The door to the woodshed suddenly shot open. I froze behind the pile and waited, but no one came in. The door slammed shut.
    â€œWhat was that?” one of the men asked.
    â€œThe door to the shed. I must have forgotten to latch it,” another man replied.
    I sat back down and ate my energy bar.
    â€œâ€¦the storm is coming in…” I heard through the wall. “…says we have to go now or never.” The woodstove banged and there was a long hiss. I could smell smoke, and soon its wispy fingers were floating into the shed.
    â€œLeave everything here. Just get the boards ready.”
    â€œWhat about the girl?”
    â€œShe comes with