by Edward Lang
“YOU THINK YOU CAN GET AWAY FROM ME?” Weaver screamed. “I’M GONNA FEED YOU TO MY BOYS, JACK! I’LL HAVE ‘EM RIP OFF YOUR NUTS WHILE YOU’RE STILL ALIVE! I’LL HAVE YOUR GUTS FOR GARTERS, YOU DIPSHIT!”
“Suck a bag of dicks, Weaver!” I yelled. “Make that skiris dicks – that’s all you’ll have to put up your ass after we’re gone!”
If he’d been mad before, he became completely unhinged.
He started firing at me, even though he didn’t have a chance in hell of hitting me.
BLAM!
BLAM!
BLAM!
Showers of rock fragments cascaded down the mountainside as I kept climbing down.
Man, what I wouldn’t have given for all that gunfire to start up an avalanche to carry him over the side of the mountain.
Unfortunately, there were no peaks directly above him. No huge supply of snow just waiting to be knocked loose.
So I kept climbing.
His voice faded into the distance as I kept descending the mountain, but I could still hear him, as enraged and impotent as ever.
“I’M GONNA KILL YOU, JACK! I’M GONNA KILL YOU IF IT’S THE LAST THING I DO!”
31
It took me three hours, but I made it to the bottom of the mountain.
From the base of the mountain, it was only a couple of hundred feet to the timberline. Unfortunately, that was wide-open space where Weaver could shoot me.
Of course, now I was probably 800 feet away from where he was on the top of the mountain. He didn’t have a shot in hell of aiming at me and hitting me… but if he decided to spray and pray, who knows, maybe the devil would grant him one last request. After all, even a blind squirrel occasionally gets a nut.
My guess, though, was that Weaver wasn’t on top of the mountain. He was probably descending the slopes with his small army of skiris at that very moment. Either he’d gone after Lelia or the others… or he was coming after me.
For the women’s sake, I hoped he was coming after me. I’d certainly done my best to piss him off and make him lose all rational thought, just so he would try to exact some revenge.
Well, and I’d done it because it felt good to taunt a rapist shithead who’d done a shit-ton of evil things.
I just hoped he didn’t get the chance to do any more.
I moved along the base of the mountain until I was fairly sure I had as much of the mountain between Weaver and me – and then I put on my snowshoes and hustled towards the forest as fast as I could.
I moved through the woods as fast as I could, heading in the same direction I’d told Lelia to travel.
I was pretty sure Weaver and the skiris would travel fairly slowly once they hit the woods beneath the logging area.
For one thing, the snow was deep. The skiris would have to bodily plow through the drifts, while Lelia and the others were walking on top of the snow.
For another thing, the trees were thick enough that the skiris would have to weave in and out of them. Again, not a problem for Weaver, but it would slow down their overall progress.
Only problem was, Weaver would be able to follow Lelia’s and the others’ snowshoe tracks like breadcrumbs. They would just have to do it slowly, that’s all, going around all the trees they couldn’t barge past.
Me? I could go fast and straight as the crow flies, and on top of the snow. My only hope was to overtake Weaver, pass him, and join up with the women later.
For the first hour, I made pretty good time. I made sure not to push myself to the point where I was sweating; after all, sweating in cold weather meant death. As soon as the perspiration freezes, you’re done for.
So I kept right at the threshold where I was moving fast, but not enough to work up a sweat.
Then I heard a roar and a rumble farther up the forest slopes.
Shit.
I instinctively headed down the mountain. I didn’t want to cross paths with them if I didn’t have to.
I continued like that for another 30 minutes… and then I heard Weaver’s voice shouting through the forest. He was pretty far behind me, but his voice carried in the cold air.
“Jack! Found your tracks, bud!”
Good. I much preferred Weaver coming after me instead of the women. Not only would it keep them safer, but it would be a huge tactical advantage for what I had planned.
So I decided to exploit it.
“This isn’t going to end well for you, Weaver!” I shouted back.
The idiot took the bait.
He kept talking to me… which meant he was still following me.
“I think it will. And actually, it could end good for you, too, bud. I been thinkin’ it over, and I ain’t mad anymore… shit, I’d’ve probably done what you did. Took balls and brains. So I’m gonna make you an offer.”
“What’s that?” I yelled back as I kept pushing myself right up to the threshold of perspiration.
“You take me to those bitches, and I’ll let you have half,” he called back.
“Yeah, I don’t think so.”
“You’re a greedy bastard, Jack, you know that? Wantin’ all that fine pussy for yourself – ”
“I want them to be free, you piece of shit,” I yelled back.
“You think you’re better’n me, huh? You try living out here, all alone, with nothin’ around but a buncha fuckin’ Bigfoots. You try surviving for a year in fuckin’ Antarctica.”
“There aren’t any trees in Antarctica, you idiot!” I yelled.
“FUCK YOU, JACK!” Weaver screamed. “I’M GONNA FUCKIN’ TIE YOU TO A TREE AND MAKE YOU WATCH WHILE I FUCK ALL THOSE BITCHES, THEN I’M GONNA MAKE THEM WATCH WHILE I TORTURE YOU TO DEATH AND HAVE MY BOYS EAT WHAT’S LEFT OF YOU!”
Pleasant guy, Weaver.
“YOU HEAR ME, JACK? YOU HEAR ME, YOU SONUVABITCH?”
I didn’t answer him.
That whole ‘when you peer into the asshole abyss, the asshole abyss peers also into you’ thing.
I didn’t need to spend any more time than necessary conversing with an human sewage pipe like Weaver.
Plus, I was sufficiently convinced he was angry enough that he would follow me, no matter what.
I just prayed that my plan worked.
Otherwise it was going to be an unpleasant ending for all of us.
32
I kept on moving through the forest, going as fast as I could. I stopped every so often to catch my breath, eat a bit of jerky, and take in some water by melting snow in my mouth. Some survivalists will tell you it’s a bad idea to eat snow if you’re out in the wild, because the cold can damage the tissues in your mouth and lower your body temperature – but I was burning up so much energy that I needed something to cool me down. It helped keep me below the threshold of sweating.
As the afternoon became evening and the sun slid behind the mountains, I could tell I was slowing down. What I really needed to do was rest and get some sleep – but I couldn’t. Not with certain death on my tail.
So I kept going.
Night fell, and the entire forest went almost pitch black. There was a tiny bit of moonlight sifting down through the treetops.
Fortunately, I had an ace up my sleeve for this one.
I had resisted using my headlamp for the last several weeks, for exactly an occasion such as this.
Well, to be honest, I hadn’t thought that I would be running from a sadist and his army of abominable snowmen – but I had wanted to save up the battery in case I came to a do-or-die situation. And I couldn’t think of a more do-or-die situation than this.
I turned on the light and attached it to my helmet. The bright light illuminated my path, making it easy as pie to see my way.
Unfortunately, it also make me easier to see at a distance.
“I CAN SEE YOU, MOTHERFUCKER!” Weaver screamed through the trees.
I was sure he wasn’t that close – but when everything around you is dark, and suddenly you catch a glimpse of a light through the trees, you can track it. At leas
t, you can follow in its general direction until you catch another glimpse.
Which worried me, because that meant they were close enough to be worrisome. I didn’t think the light would be visible beyond a quarter mile, so they were closer than I’d anticipated. Either the skiris were faster than I thought… or I was slowing down with fatigue.
Didn’t matter. I had to keep on going.
I moved all night, pushing myself past the point of exhaustion. I stumbled every few minutes, and just barely kept myself upright by grabbing onto trees.
I prayed – not to God, but to somebody else I was pretty sure was looking out for me.
Help me, Katie. If you’re out there, please – HELP me keep going.
The one thing that comforted me was that if I was tired, so was Weaver. And I was pretty sure that the more tired he got, the stupider he would get and the more mistakes he would make when it came to the endgame.
Bring on the stupid.
I kept fairly close to the edge of the timberline so that I could be sure I didn’t go too far in the darkness. I had a destination, and I couldn’t afford to miss it.
My headlamp ran out just as dawn began to break.
I said a silent thank-you to Katie and kept moving.
By the time the sun was above the mountains, I came to the open area that led up to the cave where Lelia and I had stayed. I must have passed the thin, needle-like mountain sometime during the night.
That meant I had been on the move for almost 18 hours straight. I was so exhausted I could barely stay upright.
But now we were in the final minutes of the game. I had the ball on the 20 yard line. I couldn’t stop now.
I kept pushing on.
I specifically avoided going up to the top of the slope where I thought Lelia and the others might have exited the woods. I didn’t want Weaver seeing their tracks.
I only wanted him to follow mine.
I snowshoed another ten minutes past my old valley. Then I found several pieces of dead wood that I knew would burn well, and stuffed them in my backpack. The extra weight sucked, but they were necessary for my final plan.
Finally I went up past the tree line to the beginning of the mountainside, and followed the bare rock until I reached the ravine.
The one up to the cliff above my cave.
Now I was at the ten-yard-line. One minute left on the clock.
Well, actually, more like a fucking hour to get up the ravine.
This was the longest football game on record, ever.
“Weaver!” I shouted from the base of the ravine.
It took a few seconds, but he shouted back, “You ready to give in, Jackie boy?”
From the way his voice echoed through the canyons, I was pretty sure he was no more than a quarter mile away.
“I’ll make a deal with you!” I shouted.
“Oh, NOW you wanna deal, huh?” he shouted gleefully. “When I got you AND your bitches, NOW you wanna deal?”
That line about ‘your bitches’ worried me a little, but I just assumed it was bravado.
“Go back to your fort,” I shouted, “and I’ll forget this ever happened. Otherwise I’m gonna kill your ass.”
Of course, I never would have cut any such deal. If I did, I would have to worry about Weaver forever afterwards – and there was no way I would turn him loose on other unsuspecting females of this world.
I just wanted to goad the motherfucker into following me, that’s all.
Weaver’s sinister laughter echoed through the mountains. “Go fuck yourself, Jack!”
“You were warned,” I shouted, then started up through the ravine.
It was slow going. I had pushed myself right up to the point of exhaustion, so I stumbled more than usual. I had to focus even more on every foot I placed, otherwise I might slip and break an ankle. That really would be ‘game over.’
The one bright spot was that I could hear the roars of the skiris echoing behind me through the ravine. I was absolutely, 100% positive that they had followed me.
I reached the top of the plateau – the one above my old cave – and stumbled over to the edge.
Two things immediately stood out.
Number one: I could see a long trail of snowshoe tracks across the virgin snow between the trees and the cliff beneath me. Along with the tracks was a single, deep furrow in the snow, carved by a small tree that had been dragged from the forest.
Number two: I could see the women directly below me, struggling to prop a fallen fir tree up against the cliffside.
My heart filled with joy and relief.
“Lelia!” I shouted down from the edge of the cliff.
All the women down beneath me looked up. Six of them wore headwraps – but not the six I was expecting. I could make out Lelia, Oona, and Feria’s faces. Apparently they had given up their wraps and capes to their three rescued friends.
“JACK!” Lelia screamed joyfully.
It was one of the happiest moments of my life – and simultaneously one of the most frightening. They weren’t safe yet, and I needed them to be safe.
“Is everyone okay?”
“Yes! We are tired, but we are alright!”
“Can you climb the tree to get in the cave?”
“I think so! What about you?”
“I’ll be fine – just get in the cave and get ready!”
“I love you, Jack!”
“I love you, too, babe! It’s gonna be okay! Just get in the cave!”
I pulled back away from the edge, shucked off my backpack, and emptied out the contents.
I took out the wood and leftover birds’ nests tinder, and set out to find exactly the right spot to build a fire. After digging around in the snow, I uncovered the perfect place: a flat rock with a three-foot-tall boulder between it and the cliff.
For my purposes, it couldn’t have been better.
I scraped away as much snow as possible, put down the wood, kindling, and tinder, and pulled out my watertight cannister of matches.
Thank God I hadn’t used them all up yet.
I lit a match and had the tinder ablaze within seconds. I lightly fanned the flames until the kindling caught fire, then kept at it until the wood logs were burning.
Then I went back to the edge of the cliff to check on the women’s progress.
They had leaned the tree up against the cliff, and Lelia was crawling up the trunk as the other women braced the tree so it wouldn’t move.
Not wanting to disturb her concentration as she climbed, I went back to my own preparations.
I drove an anchor into the rocks, made sure it was good and stable, then fastened my longest piece of rope to it. Then to the end of that rope, I tied the knotted rope attached to the stone.
Would it be enough?
It should be. The long rope was 100 feet, and the knotted rope was 30. Together they made 130 feet, give or take.
The cliff face was 150 feet tall, roughly. The cave was 40 feet up.
So I had to cover 110 feet down to the cave, and I had 130 feet of rope.
Given that there was some extra distance in the equation, like the five feet to the anchor, it was probably more like 120-125 feet of rope, not 130.
Still, it should be more than enough for my purposes.
Last time I’d gone down this cliff, I’d belayed Lelia because I didn’t want to risk her rappelling down and something going wrong. We could have rappelled, though.
Which was what I was going to do in about five minutes.
But last time, I hadn’t been under the gun.
Today, timing was everything. A matter of life and death.
Literally.
I decided to test it out before the life-or-death moment arrived. I went back to the edge of the cliff – and immediately my heart froze in my chest.
With my bird’s eye view, I could see over the treetops.
About 300 feet away from the cliff, a dozen large, white shapes were moving through the trees.
Sk
iris.
NO!
Weaver must have picked up on the women’s tracks, not just mine!
I squinted frantically, trying to see if the bastard was with them.
I couldn’t see anything – but that meant nothing. There were dozens and dozens of trees in the way.
The only consolation I had was that there weren’t 30 of the fuckers. Weaver had apparently split his platoon of monsters up and sent half after the women – which meant the other half was coming after me. Hopefully Weaver was with them.
I looked down frantically over the edge of the cliff.
Lelia and Fieria had made it up into the cliff and were extending their hands to others crawling up the tree.
“LELIA!” I screamed. “Skiris are coming! They’re in the woods!”
“How far?!” she cried out.
“Three hundred feet, maybe! They’ll be here in three minutes!”
“Jack, the others are too weak!”
I looked down.
She was right.
The tree was already pretty precarious as it was, the way it was leaning against the cliff. We weren’t talking about a solid oak tree, after all – this was a 40-foot-tall fir, which got weaker and more unstable the farther up you went.
And as more women climbed the tree, that meant fewer hands to hold it stable down at the base.
And the fewer hands at the base, the more the tree moved and the harder it was to climb it.
Because of the angle they’d laid the tree out, that meant the last five or six feet up to the cave had to be climbed by hand on bare rock –
And the three women who had been Weaver’s captives weren’t going to be able to do it.
The first one up was already on the tree, and she could barely hold on as it was.
In fact, 15 feet up, she fell off the tree and into the deep snow on the ground, exhausted.
Shit.
“I have to help them, Jack!” Lelia cried out.
“LELIA, NO – ”
But she was already dangling down from the cave opening. When she hit the tree, it bent beneath her weight, and she slid down it to the ground.
Shit, shit, shit –
The skiris would be there in no time.
And there was no way that Lelia was going to be able to help her friends get up into the cave –