Trapped by Sigmund Brouwer

Author:Sigmund Brouwer [Brouwer, Sigmund]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Orca Book Publishers
Published: 2022-01-29T20:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seven

I returned to the cabin after my trip to the outhouse. Dan was still standing in the open doorway.

All the stuff from my backpack was on the ground. A blanket. My flashlight. My lunch bag. Trail mix. A small plastic box with things for in case I got lost. The box had fishing hooks and fishing line. Extra waterproof matches.

“Good thing you didn’t meet a grizzly,” Dan said. “Because I emptied your rifle when I first got to the cabin. Just in case I was right about your gold nugget. If I was wrong, it was still smart to remind you to take your rifle to the stream.”

“Gold nugget?” I said. “I don’t understand.”

“Leave your rifle out here,” Dan said. “Step inside.”

“What is going on?” I asked. But I knew what was going on. I had guessed right. While I was gone, Dan had watched the video. He saw the gold nugget on the kitchen table. He saw me put it into my shirt. He saw me walk outside with it again. He thought I had put it in the backpack. He had not found it there.

“Step inside,” Dan repeated. Snow blew past him into the cabin. He didn’t seem to care.

“You wanted me to chop wood,” I said.

Dan stepped away from the door. He came back with his rifle. He pointed it at me.

“Step inside,” he said.

I did. He had moved a chair under the beam in the middle of the cabin. A long piece of rope was slung over the beam. The ends hung down on each side. There was a noose at one end of the rope.

A noose! Would he really do that?

I stopped. Dan poked my back with the end of the rifle.

“Stand in front of the chair,” Dan said. “Lift your hands and put them through the noose.”

“Dan, this is crazy,” I said. “What is going on?”

He poked me again. “Hands through the noose. Or I drop it around your neck.”

I stood in front of the chair. I lifted my hands and put them through the noose.

Dan pulled on the other end of the rope until my hands were high above my head. The noose grew tight around my wrists. He pulled so hard that I had to stand on my tiptoes.

Holding the rope with one hand, he set down his rifle. He stepped onto the chair. He tied the other end of the rope to the noose around my wrists.

He stepped off the chair and moved it in front of me.

He grabbed the propane torch and sat down on the chair. He lit the torch. He smiled at the hot blue flame.

“Where is it?” he asked.

“Where is what?” I said.

“You asked a gold buyer in Dawson City about selling a gold nugget,” he said. “One as big as a baseball. Where is it?”

“I was writing a school report,” I said. “It is on my desk at the house.”

“I read it,” he said. “And I looked all through your bedroom for a real nugget. Because I thought there was a good chance you did find one.

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