It had taken two men to bring Alec down the mountain, and Mark was shocked they’d succeeded even then. They dumped him next to Mark. The soldier grunted and groaned but didn’t resist because they still had the other end of the rope that was tied around his neck. He went into a long coughing fit, then spit a wad of blood into the dirt.
“Why are you doing this?” Mark asked no one in particular. He lay flat on his back and stared up at the canopy of branches and the reflection of the flames on the leaves. “We’re not here to hurt you guys. We just want to know who you are, what you’re doing!”
“That’s why you asked about Deedee?”
He looked and saw a woman standing a few feet away. By the shape of her body he could tell it was the lady who’d spoke to them higher on the mountain.
Mark was incredulous at her lack of emotion. “So it was you who left her. Why? And why are we prisoners now? We just want some answers!”
Alec suddenly burst into a flurry of movement, grabbing the rope and pulling it as he leapt to his feet. It came loose from the men holding it and Alec jumped at them, hurtling forward with his shoulder out like a battering ram. He slammed into the side of one of the men, tackling him to the ground. They landed with a heavy thump and Alec punched away, landing a couple of shots before two other men were on him, jerking him off the guy’s body. Another one came in as well, and between the three of them they were able to throw Alec on his back, pin his arms and legs down. The guy he’d tackled scrambled to his feet and came at the old man, kicked him in the ribs three times in a row.
“Stop it!” Mark yelled. “Stop it!”
He jerked on his own rope and started to get up, but the boot came back, slamming him into the dirt once again.
“Do not, I repeat, do not move again,” his captor said, once more using that flat monotone.
The others were still punching and kicking Alec, but the former soldier refused to give in, struggling to fight back despite his odds.
“Alec,” Mark pleaded. “You need to stop or they’re really going to kill you. What good will you be to us if you’re dead?”
The words finally got through the man’s thick, stubborn skull. He stilled, then slowly curled into a ball, his face set in a fierce grimace of pain.
Almost shaking with rage, Mark turned his attention back to the woman, who was just standing there, watching it all with that maddening lack of emotion.