They were at the last tree when Deborah felt a strong hand grab her from behind and clam her mouth shut. She couldn’t make a sound, but she could still hear. A scurrying figure ran through the woods carrying Dave’s metal detector. She got into Deborah’s car and sped off. “Coward,” she thought. Flower had abandoned her here with neither her car, nor Dave’s metal detector.
Her captor dragged her backward away from the path where she had driven into the forest.
“Look what I caught?” said her captor. He pushed her into the middle of a logging camp.
A man with an axe across his knees stood up and frowned.
“I caught me a tree spiker.” He held Flower’s hammer and a handful of bent nails.
“No, I’m not,” said Deborah .
“There were two of them, but one got away.”
“I’m not a tree spiker. I was pulling nails out of the trees,” Deborah said.
“Sure,” said another logger.