Dead Woods

by Raylan Kane

“God-dammit!” Marsh screamed.

  Lindsay couldn't believe her eyes.

  The lead wolf pawed at the ground and growled, no more than twenty feet away. Marsh threw the rope at the animal and jumped six feet down to an outcropping that barely counted as a landing. Lindsay, still in shock, didn't think she just followed the deputy over the edge and the two women took out their frustration on the rock wall, kicking the dirt hard and punching at every out-stretched tree root that presented itself as they quickly scaled their way down.

  At the bottom of the cliff the looked back up to the see the lead wolf staring down at them. Marsh gave the big canine the middle finger. Lindsay cried a little as she looked over at Tessa's twisted, lifeless body. “Can we please get the hell out of here now?” She said.

  “What do we do with her?” Wally said.

  “Nothing we can do,” said Marsh. “I'm through with taking any more time. We've gotta go. Or it's gonna be one of us next.”

  A bit of rock on the wall next to them exploded outward. Dust and flecks of limestone flew up around them.

  “What the hell was that?”

  A loud echo passed through them and carried through the ravine on the wind. “You hear that?”

  Marsh couldn't hear the echo, but she heard the sound that preceded it. Then another explosion on the rock wall beside them.

  “That's gunfire!” Lindsay said.

  “A rifle,” Wally agreed.

  “Shooting at us?”

  Another explosion as a bullet landed nearby.

  “They sure are,” Lindsay said.

  “Coming up from the south,” Wally said.

  “Quick,” Lindsay said jogging over to a large boulder. “Duck in behind here. Grab that bag.”

  24

  Another shot ricocheted off the top of the boulder sending bits of rock raining onto the three as they huddled together.

  “Who the hell is that? And why would they be shooting at us?”

  “You're asking me?”

  Marsh racked her brain. She couldn't reconcile why someone would encounter strangers in Hiller Canyon, especially given everyone in the region knew what was happening out there, and then engage them with gunfire. Is it me? She thought. Someone that recognizes me? A police hater? She'd encountered more than a few of those in the state of Alaska in her relatively short time as a Sheriff's Deputy. Some folks who hated the badge and anyone who wore it, for various reasons, and often not always the most rational.

  “Maybe it's me,” Marsh said aloud. “A police hater or something. Recognize me in their scope.”

  “And they just happened to find you out here in the middle of nowhere and start shooting?” Lindsay said, incredulous. “I don't think so.”

  “I don't think that's it,” Wally said.

  Another shot burrowed into the ground beside them.

  “Well, whatever this is, we're trapped.”

  “Only choice we've got is to throw shots back at 'em,” Lindsay said. “Wally here's a hell of a shot.”

  “How many rifles we got?”

  “Two.”

  “It'll do.”

  “It'll have to.”

  Lindsay fished a rifle from one of the duffel bags and handed it to the older man.

  “Wait until they fire off a round before you have a look,” Marsh said.

  “Yep.”

  Lindsay took the other rifle in-hand. She looked at Marsh. “You've got your pistol, but I'm guessing whoever's doing that shooting is outta range. Only other thing we got is that shotgun.” She glanced down at the rifle then back at Marsh. “I'm pretty good with this thing, how 'bout you?”

  “Not bad. But, you go ahead.”

  Another bullet bit into the boulder which caused them to flinch. On cue, Wally poked his barrel around the side of the big rock and he studied the forest in the far distance through the scope.

  Lindsay watched the old man squint through the glass, opting not to make a move herself until she was sure. “See anything?” She said to him.

  Wally swept side to side slowly with the lens, moving the crosshairs over the spruce forest hoping to catch sight of something, someone. “Nothing,” he said, “hate to say it, but I gotta stay out here exposed a little bit, see if I can pick up the muzzle flash.”

  Another shot echoed, but Wally didn't catch any flash. “Still nothing,” he said. “Couldn't tell ya where that came from.”

  “Guess I'd better have a look,” Lindsay said. She moved in behind Wally's position and then around slightly to his right.

  “Careful,” Wally said, “don't leave any part of yourself out there too much.”

  “Same as you, I have to see the muzzle flash.”

  “You don't think there's more than one shooter, do you?” Marsh said.

  “What makes you say that?”

  “I don't know, it's like whoever's doing the shooting, there's two different target areas or something.”

  “I don't know about that.”

  In an instant Lindsay flew backward and she screeched loudly holding her foot up in the air, laying on her back.

  “Holy hell!” Wally yelled and he dove sideways behind the boulder.

  A rifle shot blew off Lindsay's big toe on her right foot. Blood squirted from the hole in her foot and she howled and cried at the intense pain.

  “Grab her!” Marsh hollered. She and Wally ran to her and dragged her back behind the rock as she flailed and grabbed at her foot. Marsh held the woman at her shoulders and tried to keep her still as she rocked back and forth, her teeth grinding together as she hyperventilated.

  “I need you to keep calm, Lindsay,” Marsh said, “you hear me? You're going to go into shock if you don't. I need you to keep calm.”

  “Oh my god, it hurts. It hurts so bad. Oh my god.”

  “I know,” Marsh said, “I know it does. We're gonna do the best to look after it, alright? But for now I need you to keep calm. Can you do that?”

  Lindsay held her foot. “There's so much blood.”

  “Lindsay!” Marsh tried to snap her back to focus. “Can you do that?”

  Lindsay looked at her, serious worry across her face. “I can do it,” she said, grimacing.

  “Okay,” Marsh said, “now, lie back. Wally, grab me some bandages or something out of that bag.”

  Another bullet cracked off a piece of the boulder.

  “They won't stop shooting,” Wally said.

  “I know, but focus. Let's stop the bleeding here.”

  Marsh kept pressure near the gaping wound in Lindsay's foot. “Find something we can wrap around. We'll tie it tight.”

  “It hurts so much.”

  “I know,” Marsh said. “Try not to think about that. I know it's hard. Try to concentrate on something else.”

  Another round exploded nearby.

  “Like how much I wanna kill those sons-a-bitches?” Lindsay said in a groan.

  “Exactly.”

  Marsh and Wally managed to stop the bleeding, and the deputy applied bandages and tied a section of ripped off sleeping bag material around Lindsay's foot. She had Lindsay lay with her back against the boulder and did her best to put some padding behind her, and she had her leg elevated slightly off the ground. Marsh found the container holding the Tylenol-3's and gave Lindsay a few.

  “I noticed there's another boulder like this one, what, fifty feet ahead of us?” Marsh said.

  “That's right,” Wally said. “About that I'd say.”

  “Why?” Lindsay said. “What are you gonna do?”

  Marsh took one of the rifles in her hand and was ready to stand. “I'm running up there, over to that other rock,” she said. “And, I'm gonna kill whoever that is shooting at us.”

  25

  Deputy Marsh waited for another rifle shot to hit near their position. “You're gonna stay put, right?” She said to Lindsay.

  “Do I have much of a choice?”

  “Wally,” Marsh said, “keep an eye out. Actually, throw a shot up that way, wi
ll you? Then I'll go.”

  “Yep, on it.”

  The old man pulled the trigger and the rifle rocked in his hands.

  Marsh burst from behind the boulder and scurried with her head down until she'd reached the other big rock and she ducked behind it fast, hoping no part of her was left exposed from the unknown shooter's vantage point. She laid prone on the ground and held the rifle cocked slightly to one side with the barrel aimed at an approximate point she'd figured the shots might be coming from in the woods a good distance away. She glared through the scope and slowly scrolled the scope along the trees waiting for any sign of a shooter to present themselves. “Come on you son of a bitch,” she mumbled. “Show yourself.”

  She jumped a bit with a start as she heard Wally's rifle report, but she noted it didn't leave a ring in her ears at it might've normally.

  “Got him!” Wally hollered with the most excitement in his voice she'd heard yet.

  “You sure?”

  “Yep, I shot that bastard. He's just 30 degrees to the-”

  Lindsay screamed. The old man had been cut off mid-sentence when a bullet ripped through his skull and out the other side. He fell limp, half his head having been blown off by a second shooter.

  “Wally, no!”

  Marsh looked back at the other rock. “Is he hit? Wally?”

  “He's gone!” Lindsay yelled. “He's goddamn gone!”

  “What? They got him? Wally, you hit?”

  “He's dead, Marsh! Gone!”

  For a second the deputy felt like giving up. I could stand up right here where I am, hands overhead. Surrender. No, she told herself. They likely shoot you dead too. Obviously, whoever it is isn't worried about a murder charge and they're not looking to take hostages. Sadness gripped her as she thought about Wally and then all the rest. There'd been no time to grieve any of it. Her sadness in the moment gave way to anger. She'd had an inkling to run back to the other boulder, but figured they'd pick her off if she tried. Best I can do now is wait for the flash, and pick them off myself, she thought.

  “Marsh!” Lindsay called out. “What are we gonna do?”

  “Just hang tight, Lindsay, alright? Just hang on.”

  She laid back down and took a guess as to where the shot that killed Wally might've come from. Again, she worked the scope back and forth, up and down, searching the woods for a sign. “Come on, you bastard,” she murmured. “I've got you.”

  “Can you see them?” Lindsay shouted.

  “Not yet. You just lay still and keep quiet, alright?”

  “Okay.”

  Marsh laid in wait, and as the minutes ticked by, she wondered if maybe the shooter had gone. Please still be here, she repeated over and over in her head. She knew that logically it would probably be best if the threat of a murderous shooter was gone, and as a police officer that made sense, but in her rage she wanted whoever it was to stick around, just so she could kill them. She could hear Sheriff Lake's words echo inside her brain as though he was there with her. She knew exactly what he'd say if he was there. “Revenge isn't part of our job description. No matter how much the public might think so.”

  That might be, Sheriff, she imagined saying back to him. But, in this case, it's justified.

  26

  A crack of thunder shattered the silence in the ravine. Lindsay had passed out after taking the pain meds and she remained out even after the rifle shot collided with the front of the boulder she rested behind.

  The shot came after a half-hour of nothing and it took Marsh by surprise, but only a few minutes earlier, when she'd caught herself drifting off to sleep out of pure exhaustion, she'd forced herself to re-focus and so when the shot came she had been staring through the scope. She caught sight of the muzzle flash. Moving the scope slightly to her right she put her crosshairs on what she could tell was someone's head. Exhaling slow she pulled the trigger and saw the tell-tale red mist on the other end of her line. Whoever it was, was dead.

  Her heart jumped as soon as she saw the figure slump forward. A momentary feeling of guilt had tripped her up, but then she told herself this was self-defense all the way. If it came down to it, no jury in their right mind would blame her for doing whatever she could to ensure she and Lindsay got out of the situation alive.

  “I got him, Lindsay!”

  The other woman did not reply and the deputy realized she was still out, and that was probably best. What to do now? She asked herself. Then she heard some stirring back behind the other boulder.

  “Lindsay? You awake?”

  “I am,” Lindsay said, her voice a slight slur and quiet.

  “I got that bastard that shot Wally.”

  “Good. We should keep moving. Gonna be dark soon.”

  “I'm coming to you.”

  Please let that have been the only other shooter out there, Marsh said to herself. Again, she put her head down and ran for the other rock. When she got there, she could see Wally's gruesome head wound. She shook her head, but was grateful to see that Lindsay no longer seemed to be in as much agony as before. “You alright?” She said.

  “Hurts like hell.”

  “I can imagine.”

  “We should really move though. Gonna have to set up camp.”

  “Yes, this is true. I think I'm going to make you a crutch.”

  “So, we'll set up here, I guess?”

  “I think so.”

  “You're gonna have to set up the tent by yourself.”

  “That's fine.”

  “I can't do much at the moment, I'm afraid.”

  “I got it, just relax.”

  Marsh decided to set up the tent about ten feet behind the big rock. “Just in case, we'll put the sleeping bags at this end, anyone takes a shot in the dark, we'll be protected.”

  “Good thinking.”

  She wasn't sure how with it Lindsay really was, but it felt good to relay information to her all the same. It was a comfort and made her feel less lonely than if she were merely talking to herself. The strain however, of being the only able-bodied person left took its toll.

  “You think if I make you a crutch you'll be able to get around?”

  “I'll do my best.”

  Marsh pulled the tent from one of the bags and the entire time she was putting the poles together and sticking the pegs in the ground she felt a ray of heat on her back as though she were at the business end of someone's rifle scope. Take your shot, she said silently to anyone who might be out there. Put me out of my misery. Then she noted how the entire ordeal had taken her mind off what she thought was the biggest threat to them, the giant grizzlies. As if it wasn't bad enough to be fighting such an impossible animal, she thought. We're out here fighting each other. Maybe her mother was right. Maybe humans were the worst of them all.

  It took over an hour for Marsh to set up the tent herself. Lindsay tried to instruct her, but that only turned into mini arguments as Marsh couldn't figure out the oddly shaped ten-person structure, and Lindsay only grew more frustrated at not being able to get up and give her a hand and point her in the right direction. Eventually though, the thing took shape, and Marsh threw two sleeping bags inside. Guns too, a flashlight and a canteen a third of the way full of water.

  “I need your help to get you up on your feet,” Marsh said. “Think you can do that?”

  Lindsay held on to the deputy tight and as Marsh pulled the older woman dug in with her good foot and pressed upward until she was standing, a good deal of her weight leaning on Marsh.

  “Alright, let's get you inside.”

  With Lindsay hopping on one foot, her arm around Marsh's neck, the two of them clumsily entered the tent and Marsh laid her down on one of the sleeping bags. “You good with this one?”

  “Yep. Pass me those T3's would you?”

  The sun sunk beneath the tree line and things inside the tent got a lot darker. Marsh checked the weapons and saw rounds were chambered in each one. They were ready. She and Lindsay both took a sip of water, and then Marsh sl
id inside her sleeping bag ready to pass out. They laid there in the dark for a moment, each in silent contemplation of what a devastating journey through Hiller Canyon it had been.

  “Who do you think that was, shooting at us?” Lindsay said, breaking the silence.

  Marsh stared at the roof of the tent and she sighed. “I don't know. But, tomorrow we're gonna find out. Once I fashion you some kind of crutch, we'll hike over that way. It's where we were going anyway.”

  “Why would anyone wanna kill us?”

  “I don't get it either. It's not like they were after us specifically. No one would know we're even out here.”

  “Poor Wally and Tessa,” Lindsay said. “They didn't deserve that.”

  “None of us do,” Marsh said. “Try to get some rest, alright? We'll talk more in the morning.”

  “Alright.”

  Marsh's hearing was still tempered by a constant static sound. Almost like a gust of wind that never stopped. She worried that perhaps her hearing would be like that for the rest of her life. For a moment she wondered if eardrums were capable of repairing themselves. Then her thoughts floated back to Wally, and to Tessa, and Bill, and Sal. Everyone. Then she thought of Sheriff Lake and thought he'd know exactly what to do in this situation. She turned onto her side and curled her knees up toward her chest. I wish you were here, Tom, she thought. So bad. Right now, I could really use your help.

  27

  Deputy Marsh jolted upright. Had Lindsay just cried out? She noted she could see the tent's roof. Day had come again. She looked to her right and Lindsay laid in her sleeping bag, her eyes closed, not moving. I had imagined it, she thought to herself. The screaming. Maybe it was me? Marsh noticed she had a light coat of sweat over her. A nightmare perhaps. Then you wake up and realize you're still in it. Times like this are when your nightmares become dreams, she thought. Not the most comforting of notions. She forced herself to shove the negativity our of her brain, as much as she could. Time to go. You will get through this.

  “Lindsay,” said Marsh, with perhaps more forcefulness in her voice than she'd initially meant.