Journal

by Craig Buckhout

  In response, she called him another name (I won’t say what it was here) and again told him to shut up and to keep his eyes on them, not on her.

  What I heard from all that was he used the word “they” when he spoke, and she said “them.” Well, I jumped right on that one. As far as I was concerned, it was just that much more proof that they were stalking at least two people and those two people were Anna and Gabriel. I started to worry about how I was going to warn them without getting myself killed.

  As she pulled up her pants, the man said, “Yeah, well, don’t you go blaming me when you miss ‘em.” So she hurried back over.

  As best as I can recall, this is part of the conversation that took place between the two of them. I’m writing it out because it will explain how everything suddenly flip-flopped. I wasn’t so sure anymore it was Anna and Gabriel they were hunting.

  Nora: “Ah… I don’t know. You think that’s them, huh? Which one you think is her?”

  The man: “You see, the one on the right there… Nah, that’s them. It’s gotta be them.”

  Nora: “I think you’re seeing things — as usual.”

  The man: “What’s the difference? One way or another, plan’s still the same. We’ll kill ‘em and then we’ll know for sure. They’re far enough away now, let’s start working ourselves back down there.”

  There was a little more conversation before they took off, but I couldn’t hear it all and of what I did, there’s nothing more worth stating. So you can see, now I wasn’t so sure anymore. I wanted to believe they were still alive, I really did. But I told myself that if it were Anna and Gabriel, Nora would have recognized them. After all, they’d spent enough time se people want you so bad?”

  As they started back down the hill toward the road, I was wondering two more things. First, how did they miss all the signs we left that we’d been there? And second, how in the heck was I going to warn the people these two were stalking, even if they weren’t Anna and Gabriel?

  Regarding the latter, after a few seconds of deliberation it seemed there was only one thing to do. I figured we’d have to try to parallel Nora and her companion through the hills and, at some point, get ahead of them enough that we could let Anna and Gabriel, or whoever, know the danger they were in.

  I knew doing this wouldn’t be either easy or certain of success. First, there was Petra. Her little legs on these hills would slow us down. Second, there was the fact that there was only periodic cover in the form of trees. Much of the terrain that I could see was covered with grass and brush that wouldn’t conceal us very well, so we’d have to use the contour of the land itself to hide in. In other words, only move forward when a ridgeline was between them and us.

  If we managed to catch up with the people being stalked and those people weren’t Anna and Gabriel, well, I couldn’t come up with a plan. If that were the situation, we really wouldn’t know what sort of people they were. They might be killers themselves. In fact, they might be worse than Nora and her buddy there. So if we approached them with a warning, that just might be it for us.

  There was an “on the other hand” to this. They could also be good, decent people and should be warned. Moreover, if they were righteous folks, and since they were going our way, they might be just the edge we needed to get to Woburn safely; safety in numbers and all that. So, it could be in our best interest to warn them, at least that’s what I was thinking.

  As soon as Nora and her companion started south along the road, we walked to the edge of the trees. When they were out of sight, we went down the hill and up the next. As we neared the top, we slowed down, and I belly crawled the rest of the way to the ridge, where I could get a view of the road again, at least up to where the next hill started. I watched Nora and the man she was with until they were out of sight, and started the whole process over again.

  That’s pretty much how it went the whole afternoon, except sometimes I carried Petra on my back, piggyback style, and sometimes she walked. On occasion, we also encountered a structure of some sort, a fence, or a vehicle, but most of the time just hills, grass, and trees. Once, though, we passed under some power lines, forty or fifty feet in the air, supported by two legged structures that looked like an army of invading aliens, marching single file, perfectly spaced, shoulders squared, stretched both directions as far as the eye could see. In the distance, to our east and near the top of the hills, was a wind farm, spread out, props dead still and useless. The best of mankind, made useless by the worst of mankind.

  About Petra now, she was a real trooper. She never complained or made it difficult for me to keep up with these people. She was quiet, too, seldom saying anything above a whisper. I think maybe she’s lived this sort of life so long that being quiet was as natural to her as walking.

  Late in the afternoon, we got our first chance to get past Nora and her partner. (Tell you what; I’m going to have to come up with a name to call the man with Nora, so I don’t have to keep writing man, partner, companion, etc. So how about High-Top? You know, for the shoes he was wearing, the high-top tennis shoes. It’s just going to make it easier to write this out, and easier for anyone who may read this to keep track of who was doing what.) Anyway, regarding our chance to get past them, we had pretty much been stuck with following behind because, as I’ve said, the only way to conceal our presence was to keep the ridgelines of the hills between us. Well, at the point I’m describing here, we encountered a fairly well forested area and were able to move through it unobserved. At the time, I figured this, in turn, would allow us the chance to warn the people Nora and High-Top were intent on killing.

  Since I didn’t really know where the people being tracked were, I figured that the best thing I could do was to try to get ahead of them, find a safe place to hide, and wait for them to come into view. From that position, I’d first find out if “they” and “them” meant Gabriel and Anna. If not, I’d decide if I wanted to chance a warning and, if so, how to do it. At least that was my plan.

  So that’s what we did or started out to do anyway. I took Petra by her little hand and moved as fast as I could south and parallel to the road below. We did this for about ten or fifteen minutes before I stopped at the edge of the trees in a spot where I had a good view of about fifty yards of the road.

  After five minutes of waiting and not seeing them, I began to think we hadn’t gone far enough and they were still south of us. I decided to give it another minute or so and, if they still hadn’t shown up, we’d move farther along and try it again. But all of a sudden I heard big booms, three of them in a row, a shotgun, no mistake about that, and other shots, too. The sounds were close by and to our north. My stomach twisted into a knot. “Please don’t be them,” I whispered to myself. “Please, let it be someone else.” I immediately regretted saying such things out loud and looked to see if Petra had heard me. She was staring at me, eyes wide. I swore — this time to myself.

  After re-reading the words I’ve just written, – those expressing my hope that it was someone else being killed instead of Anna and Gabriel – it strikes me that they are a terrible, terrible thing to say. I mean who would wish for one person to be dead so another would be alive? How about wishing nobody dead? Also, if it’s not Anna and Gabriel out there taking a load of buckshot, that would bring us all the way back around to the probability that they’re dead anyway; drowned in the river. What’s the point to make here? I don’t think I even know. Maybe I’m just a little shocked at how my mind works sometimes. I never used to think this way. Enough! I’m just wasting time and paper. Let’s move on.

  We started back toward the sounds of the gunfise people want you so bad?”

  I hadn’t even gone twenty yards when there were still more gunshots; a dozen maybe. They were a mixture, too, some shotgun and some something else. A bullet cracked and hit a tree somewhere to my right. I didn’t think it was close to me, but that didn’t mean the next one wouldn’t be. I looked back at Petra to make sure she was all right but couldn’t
see her. The trees blocked my view. As much as I wanted to see what was happening, who died, who lived, I knew I had to go back to her. I figured there was nothing I could do to change what was happening or had happened down below, but I could protect Petra, so I ran back.

  I’m not sure if it was a conscious act on her part or she was just scared and hiding, but I found her sitting with her back to a tree, arms wrapped around her knees, exposing as little as possible to the direction of gun fire. And that’s where I stayed, also. It seemed as safe a place as any until I could come up with a better plan.

  Five, six, seven minutes went by, I don’t know, maybe it just seemed that long but was less, and I heard a noise like someone was coming our way. I stood up and stepped around the tree to see if I could locate the source of the commotion and came face to face with Nora. She was standing about ten feet from me, breathing hard with her lips pulled back and down almost into a snarl. In her right hand she held a large knife.

  Before she could take a step toward me, I pulled the empty pistol from my belt, quick like, and pointed it at her. Because it was a revolver, and she might at that distance be able to see that it didn’t contain any live bullets, I pointed it slightly down, more like in the area of her knees than her chest. It must have looked deadly enough because it definitely got her attention. She stopped dead still, staring but not with anything that can be described as fear on her face. Tough as shoe leather, that woman.

  I told her to just keep right on going, that whatever she was involved in had nothing to do with me. And of course I told her what I’d do, which I couldn’t really do, if she had other ideas. I should point out here, by way of reminder, that she never saw me back at the farmhouse when Anna and Gabriel escaped. So as far as I knew, to her I was just some guy wandering around and trying to stay out of trouble.

  Why that course of action? Well, obviously empty pistols don’t kill, so couldn’t do that …as much as I might like to. I couldn’t bluff her into giving up, either, because then what. What would I do with her or to her? Well, okay, I guess I could have stabbed her to death. But I can’t imagine what Petra would think about that, killing a woman in such a bloody fashion, right in front of her. It would be loud and messy, to say the least. Also, she was big, at least my weight, and mean, meaner than me probably, so to try to stab her to death could be quite the fight, which could also mean an injury to me. So, chasing her off ; panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4tifseemed like the only choice at the time.

  She looked at me for a couple of seconds, and I could almost hear the wheels turning inside that twisted brain of hers. She must have made up her mind because she sidestepped a couple of times, kind of circling around a little, and started backing away north. After she had taken a half a dozen steps backwards, I lowered my pistol, pointing it at the ground. After a dozen more, I put the pistol back in my belt to make her feel more confident that her decision was the right one, and, at that point, she gave me the middle finger salute and took off running, weaving through the trees for protection.

  Man, was I mixed up. I wondered what the heck had happened. Maybe the hunters had become the hunted. Maybe Nora and High-Top, in all their sneaking around, had snuck themselves right into an ambush; this one on them. The prospect of that made me happier than a dog with a soup bone. But who lived and who died?

  There hadn’t been any shooting for a good ten minutes when Petra and I started, very cautiously started, walking in the direction of the road. Every few feet, I stopped to listen and look until we gained the edge of the forest, maybe thirty or forty yards from the road.

  There was a body on the ground — man, woman, Anna, Gabriel, I couldn’t tell. It was next to a pickup truck with a wood rack on it, surrounded by tall weeds. The vegetation and distance prevented me from getting a good, clear view.

  It looked like the truck itself had some holes in it from bullets striking at a severe angle. On the ground was a rifle or shotgun, could have been either one because of the distance and because I could only really see the stock end. I sure wanted that weapon. I needed that weapon. I was desperate to know who was lying there, probably dead, even though for some reason I just didn’t think it was either Anna or Gabriel. However, instead of going over there, I just sat and watched for several minutes to make sure it wasn’t a trap.

  At some point, I don’t even remember how long I waited, I told Petra to stay in the trees while I went down to have a look. It was dangerous, but I didn’t see I had much of a choice.

  Before getting there, I saw the shoes and knew right away the man down was High-Top. And once I stepped up to him, I could see he was all shot to hell and very, very dead. I didn’t waste any time thinking about how he must have hurt at the end. He got exactly what he was going to give, and I suppose I was glad for any pain he suffered.

  I searched him right away and came up with a cartridge belt around his waist that held nine, 12 gauge shotgun shells plus two more in his coat pocket. I also pocketed several empty shell casings on the ground on the off chance I might be able to later reload them. I finally grabbed up the shotgun, a pump, and started back toward the trees feeling more confident about our chance of survival, even though somewhere out there were the people who killed High-Top and a lot of other killers, too.

  I walked not more than five steps back to safety when I heard my name called. It was Anna, rifle in hand, running toward me. am I doing this because deif

  Of all the lines I’ve so far written, there are none I wish more to fairly describe my feelings than these, and none that will fail more miserably. How do I explain my lifted spirit? What words give perspective to promise and future? Imagine being suddenly blinded and saddled with the prospect of not seeing the blue of the sky, or the steam rising in the morning off a quiet pond, or the smile on the face of your lover. And now imagine your sight given back. All that you thought lost, returned, but reordered and better understood without giving it a moment’s calculation. That’s how I felt.

  We flung ourselves together, each thought lost to the other, in a crazy celebration of dance, and song, and cheer, and kisses. We circled around, pressed tight, our knees bumping, our hands and arms trying to get a hold, despite the baggage we shouldered, our lips mashed, our faces christened with eager, shameless tears. Never again apart, I promised.

  All this hugging and kissing and promising were interrupted when Petra threw herself onto Anna crying. Anna pulled away from me at that point, trailed her free hand down my chest, handed me her rifle with the other, and kneeled down so she could wrap Petra in her arms. At that, all three of us were bawling like the family of the bride at an Italian wedding.

  It strikes me now that this is how people should be — happy and loving one another, not hating and killing one another. If we could only just remember moments like this, maybe things would be different.

  But this celebration came to an end, too. It came to an end when another gunshot was heard north of us.

  She told me it was probably Gabriel shooting my rifle. Ah man, so caught up was I in seeing Anna safe that I forgot all about Gabriel. The realization of that made me feel about two inches tall. How could I do that?

  She explained that the dead man, High-Top, and Nora had tried to kill them, but she and Gabriel knew they were coming and had been waiting. They shot High-Top dead, but Nora got away. The gunshot was probably Gabriel just trying to finish the work. I decided that I’d wait to explain what we knew about Nora and High-Top. There’d be plenty of time for that. Besides, Petra needed Anna’s attention and someone, me, needed to check on Gabriel.

  Another thought pops into my head, out of sequence, excuse me for this. What about the young people like Gabriel? All they remember is fear, and hate, and killing. How are they going to know there is a better life? I’ll think some more about that later.

  I set Anna’s rifle on the ground, topped off the shotgun with shells, and started in Gabriel’s direction but kept looking back thinking how lucky I was to have found her again. Twice her eyes
met mine and she smiled. Just before being out of earshot, I heard Petra say to Anna, “We’re going to a safe place where there’ll be kids like me.” Maybe, after we get past all this, we’ll be all right after all.

  Gabriel saw me coming and gave me a big overhand wave and, when closer, a smile,se people want you so bad?”

  “That was Nora”, he said. “Don’t think I hit her, though.” Disappointment showed in his face.

  I wanted to tell him to consider himself lucky. Killing changes you. But in today’s terms, he’s a man and will have to choose his own way, so I bit my tongue. Besides, if not this time, he’ll more than likely, almost certainly, become a life taker sooner than later. I don’t think there will be any avoiding it. Gentle days no more.

  I’m going to step my narrative up a bit here because that’s what we were doing, stepping things up. It’s certainly the case that I was anxious to hear what had happened to them since Petra and I went overboard, and I’m sure they felt the same, but there was no time for that. We had no idea how far away the people who hunted us were, so we couldn’t afford to sit and chat. We simply had to get moving. So as soon as Gabriel and I got back to Anna and Petra, we culled our gear of everything unnecessary, redistributed what was left, and got on the road with an eye to our rear.

  We moved along at an accelerated rate, running from what was behind us, trying to cover as much ground as possible before dark. Occasionally, when the conditions were right, I dropped back or climbed to some high point to see if we were being followed, and after, would jog back to catch up. If they were coming, they weren’t close because I didn’t see them or detect any evidence of pursuit. Maybe Gabriel hit Nora after all. Once again, it’s a strange thing to hope for, but as the saying goes, better them than us.

  A couple things to make note of here: The first being that the road we traveled swung close to the river at this point in our journey and started a wide, gentle turn to the west. The land also flattened out on both the east and west banks into a broad valley and evidenced much past cultivation. We passed half a dozen silos in one grouping where, I suppose, farmers in the area had stored their grains. There was also an occasional building of the type to house farm equipment. In fact, there were several such machines in evidence, all in various stages of decay. On the opposite side of the river, I could see Highway 97 and a similar number and type of farming related structures. And finally, the weather; it was actually warm for a change.