There weren't many cars in the lot, leaving plenty of space, but that hadn't stopped a grey Cadillac from parking uncomfortably close to my Honda. Just as Amelia's taillights faded from view, three men clambered out of the whale of a car. They were rough-looking customers, the kind of men who I had previously assumed would hang out in a dive bar like this. The hairs on my neck stood up and it certainly didn't help that they were between me and my ride.
The driver and the front passenger eyeballed me. The third one popped the trunk but didn't retrieve anything. He simply left it open and joined his comrades.
As I walked, I instinctively glanced over to see what they were up to and when I did the driver said, "Hey, you."
I nodded a greeting and kept going.
"You Finnigan Walsh?" he asked.
This brought me to a screeching halt. It was the third time this trip that some unnerving stranger somehow knew my identity. If this didn't stop, I was going to have a panic attack every time someone said my name. I tried to think of a redirecting answer but my pause and the obvious trepidation on my face seemed to give me away.
"Yeah, you're Finnigan Walsh all right," he smiled wickedly and pushed his hood off his bald head. His companions moved to the left and right, putting bodies in the path to the bar and my Honda.
"Sorry. I'm not. He just drove away." I'd never had much of a poker face, but I was happy with my quick lie and pointed after Amelia's now vanished car to add some evidence.
Baldie shook his head. "No. We weren't told exactly what Finnigan looked like, but we know he's not a woman or attractive."
I couldn't help but think that he meant to say, "attractive woman", but the insult was of minor concern. Not wanting to admit to being myself I just stood there silently.
"The Saint sent us to fetch you," Baldie said. "She says you're important and she can't wait to meet you. We're not supposed to hurt you if we can avoid it."
He waved a hand at the open trunk. "Do us all a favor and just climb in. We even put some soft blankets back there for you. The trunk is spacious but doesn't get any heat."
"The Saint?"
He looked annoyed at having to clarify. "The Saint of Shadows."
"Oh." I certainly didn't want to meet someone known by such an ominous name. Even more so, I had no intention of willingly climbing into the trunk, despite the comfy doggie-bed they'd made for me in it. Just before I opted for what I knew was going to be a futile attempt at running, a new voice boomed.
"Hey, you!"
All four of us turned to see a mountain of a man come striding from the woods. While my prospective kidnappers were each bigger than me, this guy towered over all of us. I assumed I wouldn't last long in a fight against the trio, but I was simply snack-size for this newcomer.
Between his wild mop of dark hair and his unruly beard, the only facial features I could make out were his nose and his eyes, and even those were shaded by caterpillar-thick eyebrows. He had a duffel bag draped over each shoulder and dropped both to free his arms as he neared us.
"You Finnigan Walsh?" he asked with a growl, his dark eyes burrowing into me.
My previous assumption that I'd suffer a panic attack at that question proved erroneous. Instead, I reached the point of confused exasperation. "I'm really starting to hope not," I answered.
"Hey, pal," Baldie said to the newcomer. "We already asked him that."
The woodsman's gaze drifted slowly from me to him. "Maybe you did, but now I'm asking him. And before you protest, just know that, however you're regarding this situation, I am far more important than you." He turned to me. "Now then stranger, without answering their question, kindly answer mine. Are you Finnigan Walsh?"
I froze. This gigantically intimidating fellow had literally just told me to speak while remaining silent. I had no idea what to do, so what escaped my lips was a dull sounding, "Uhhhhhhh".
Baldie and crew grew increasingly frustrated with the interruption of their kidnapping. "We know this is Finnigan Walsh. We were sent to fetch him and that's exactly what we're going to do. He's coming with us."
"Coming with you?" the woodsman asked with a surprise that struck me as ingenuine. "How could he possibly decide to go with you? He doesn't even know his own name. He's either really drunk or dimwitted. In either case, he doesn't possess the cognitive ability to make such a foolhardy decision." He turned back to me. "Regardless, you're not going anywhere until we establish your identity. So, once more, answer me but not them. Are you Finnigan?"
Again, I had no recourse. Too terrified to state my name aloud, I certainly wasn't going to whisper in this guy's ear, even if I had a step stool to reach it. "I'm...my name is...not...Fin..."
"Quiet," the woodsman hissed with an intensity that silenced me immediately. "Don't state your name aloud." He pointed at the trio. "We don't want these assholes to know that you're Finnigan Walsh. We gotta keep a low profile here."
Baldie glowered at the insult. "This is your last warning mister. Walk away now and no harm done. If you keep sticking your nose in our business with Finnigan then someone is definitely going to get hurt."
The woodsman's eyes narrowed. "You're right about that."
Throughout the tense interaction, I slowly shuffled in the woodsman's direction. I certainly wouldn't say that I had any trust in this man, but he hadn't openly presented a plan to stuff me into a car trunk either. I supposed he might be able to squish me small enough to fit into one of his duffel bags but that seemed more unlikely.
One of Baldie's companions finally spoke up. "In case you can't count big fella, there's three of us and only one of you."
That he failed to include me in the tally for either side tweaked my ego and led me to officially declare my temporary allegiance with the woodsman. I stepped more boldly until I stood next to him, but still out of reach of his tree-trunk arms.
Baldie's companions continued to slowly flank us until we stood in a triangle of my kidnappers. The woodsman seemed unconcerned and calmly rolled up his jacket sleeves.
"Last chance to walk away, big man."
"Nah. I'll walk away quite calmly later."
Baldie pulled something from his pocket. It was one of those extendable batons used by police and he snapped it open with a crack. "Fine by me. We'll have no problem tearing through you to get to Finnigan." His companions both pulled knives from sheaths and the dim light from the bar shone off the blades.
Still, the woodsman remained indifferent. "Before I get started and you get ended, I just want you all to know that years ago I made a non-violent resolution, and I haven't hurt a soul since." The trio exchanged cocky grins, considering this statement a declaration of weakness. The smiles faded when he continued with, "But I was also living alone in the woods, so I never ran into any unimportant assholes with big mouths, much less three at once. It's easy to not hurt assholes if you never see assholes. But now, unfortunately, I'm seeing you."
Now that it seemed conflict inevitably loomed, I opted to go all in. "Alright," I said to the woodsman. "If you can handle those two, I'll take the last guy."
"Really? How about you sit this one out?" He phrased it like a question, but it felt like a command.
"Seriously?"
"Yeah. Next time there'll be a lot more of them and you can help out then."
"Next time?"
The answer came in the form of his massive hand clutching my jacket and hurling me out of the way just as the trio charged. I had assumed the man would be strong but still underestimated him. I sailed an easy ten feet through the air, bounced once, and then slid across the gravel until a pickup truck tire stopped my momentum. I laid there for a moment, letting all of my limbs report in that they were in working order, before crawling to my feet to witness the battle.
One of the kidnappers was already down and unmoving. The woodsman sidestepped a wild baton swing from Baldie before grabbing the third man. He lifted the kidnapper into the air, arms fully extended like a professional wrestler, and then body-slammed him into the gravel. The big man pinned him, mercilessly raining fists onto the unmoving opponent. Baldie rushed into the fray, landing a pair of crisscrossing blows across the woodsman's back that elicited only annoyed grunts. On the third swing, the woodsman caught Baldie's arm, twisted the baton from it, and then turned the weapon on its former master. He brought it down low across Baldie's leg, which bent with a snap, and the man went down screaming. A punch to the jaw silenced him.
Just like that, it was over.
The woodsman glanced at me. "You alright?"
I nodded. "Thanks for violently and painfully hurling me to safety."
"No problem." He patted me on the back with enough force that it almost knocked me off my still wobbly legs. "Now then, let's get this cleaned up." He reached down and grabbed one of the unconscious kidnappers by the head, his massive mitt palming the forehead like a basketball. He did the same to the other and drug both men to the Cadillac, dumping them into the doggie bed they'd meant for me and then slamming the trunk shut. His attention turned to Baldie, who was just rousing back to consciousness.
"Wake up," the woodsman commanded and cuffed him lightly across the face. The woodsman hauled him to his feet by his hoodie, the man dangling limply like an uncooperative toddler. Without the big man's support, Baldie would have collapsed, as I saw his left leg was twisted gruesomely.
"The Saint will have your head for this," Baldie snarled through bloodstained teeth. He tried to bear weight and screamed at the grinding of bones.
"I bet you're wondering why I only broke your left leg and not your right because I think you're smart enough to realize I'm the kind of bastard who normally breaks all the limbs. To quell your curiosity, I left you two good hands and one good foot so you can drive you and your companions out of here." The woodsman leaned in close. "You take your Saint a message. You tell her I know she's coming, and she's got a fight waiting for her. Finnigan Walsh and I are ready and willing to throw down. You tell her that. She better be ready for blood, because Finnigan and I certainly are."
I raised a finger to question who exactly this "saint" may be and why I was supposedly set to battle her and maybe state that I didn't believe I was ready for anyone's blood. But neither paid me any attention and I was afraid to actually say anything aloud. So, I just curled my finger back into my palm.
The woodsman drug Baldie to the Cadillac, stuffed him into the driver's seat and slammed the door. The car roared to life and slowly pulled out of the lot.
I was alone with the woodsman. I looked around the lot. "Now what?"
"Breaking all my non-violent resolutions has made me thirsty. Let's get some beers. Besides, I'm betting you have a lot of questions."
Now that was an understatement.
"You are Finnigan Walsh aren't you?" he asked.
"Well..." I mumbled, still reluctant to admit it out loud to this giant.
"Oh, knock it off. I know who you are." He extended a hand. "I'm Clancy. Clancy Kreuger."
"Nice to meet you."
"You probably won't be thinking that in a couple of days."
I was thinking that already, but I kept it to myself as I followed him back into the bar.
Chapter Words - 2048
Total Word Tally - 8309