Dark Mountain

by Richard Laymon

  Should’ve just tented with Karen in the first place. Well, with the Gordons along they couldn’t have done that anyway.

  He swung the stove away from the campfire flames, and set it inside its aluminum holder.

  “You got that sucker going yet?” Flash asked, coming up behind him.

  “Stand back and get ready to duck.”

  Flash scraped the last of his scrambled eggs and bacon bits from the bottom of his dish. “Ah, that was good stuff. Want me to polish off yours for you?” he asked Rose.

  “No.”

  “Aw, come on. It’ll only weigh you down.”

  “Daddy!”

  “Let her finish it,” Alice said. “Have some Grape Nuts if you’re still hungry.”

  “Bleah.”

  “It’s good roughage.”

  “So is bark. Doesn’t mean I want to eat a tree.” He looked at the twins. “Everything out of your tent?” They nodded as they shoved forkfuls of egg into their mouths. “Let’s get to it, Nick.”

  Nick, on the other side of the fire, took a sip of coffee, nodded, and stood up. They went over to the tent and started taking it down. They worked in silence, pulling the guy lines, Flash holding the front upright while Nick folded the rear forward, then easing the front backward. When the tent was flat, they removed the collapsible rods, pulled out the stakes along its sides, and folded it into thirds. Flash rolled it up with the rods inside. Nick held the plastic stuff bag open, and Flash shoved the tent into it.

  They stepped over to the other tent, and began to repeat the process.

  “So long, over there,” a voice called.

  Looking up, Flash saw three teenaged girls through the trees. They were on the main trail, hiking single file.

  “’Bye,” Nick yelled. “Have a good trip back.”

  “Watch out for the crazy woman,” warned the girl in the lead. Then the three vanished among the trees.

  Nick eased the rear of the tent forward.

  “Those the gals you ran into last night?” Flash asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “What’s this about a crazy woman?”

  “Nothing much,” Nick said. He shrugged as if it were unimportant, but his eyes looked worried. “They told us they ran into some weird old lady yesterday at a lake the other side of the pass. I guess she yelled at them, or something.”

  “What for?”

  “I don’t know. They just thought she was crazy.”

  “Takes all kinds, I guess.”

  “Hope we don’t run into her.”

  “Don’t worry about it. Any crazy old bag gives us any lip, we’ll stomp her. Right?”

  Nick gave a nervous laugh. “Sure thing.”

  Heather grimaced, lips drawn back and teeth clenched, as she pushed her left foot into her boot. “What’s wrong?” Alice asked. “Nothing.”

  “Let me see.” She squatted down beside the girl. “Take your boot off.”

  “Really, Mom, it’s all right.”

  “I’ll be the judge of that.”

  With a reluctant sigh, Heather pulled off her boot. She peeled the wool sock down her ankle. The skin above her heel was gray, as if smudged with dirt. She winced when Alice pressed it. “Arnold, would you come over here?”

  He was crouched over his pack, securing its flap. He looked over his shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

  “We have an injury here.”

  “Oh, shit,” he muttered. He hurried over.

  “A bruised Achilles tendon,” Alice said.

  Arnold gently rotated the foot. Heather’s face showed pain. “It’s all right,” she insisted.

  “How did this happen?” Alice asked.

  Heather shrugged.

  Rose, who’d been sitting on a rock nearby and watching, said, “I’ll tell you. It was that klutz, Benny. He kicked her last night.”

  “He didn’t kick me, he stepped on me.”

  “Shit.”

  “Arnold!”

  “Does it hurt much?” he asked.

  “No. Really.”

  “I thought I saw you limping,” Alice said. “Good heavens, Heather, why didn’t you tell us about it?”

  The girl shrugged, and pulled up her sock.

  “I bet,” Rose said, “she just didn’t want to get Benny in trouble. She’s got a crush on him.”

  “I do not!”

  “Do, too.”

  “Knock it off,” Arnold muttered. He frowned at Heather. “You can walk on it okay, though, right?”

  “Yeah. It’s fine.”

  “Well, we’ll try to take it easy today. If it gives you too much trouble, we’ll figure something out.”

  “Let’s leave her behind,” Rose said. “So the coyotes can eat her.”

  “That’s enough out of you, young lady.”

  “All right,” Arnold said. “Let’s haul it. I’ve got a feeling this’ll be a long day.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Nick stopped at the trail sign. It read CARVER PASS, 2 MI. Leaning against a rock to ease the weight of his pack, he looked down into the valley. Lake Parker was there in the distance, as blue as the sky, its north shore hidden among the trees. The south shore was mostly barren rock. He spotted the outcropping he’d climbed down last night, and felt a small tremor of the fear that had numbed him when he came unexpectedly upon the two girls. Then he smiled, remembering Rose’s shriek and the way she’d scurried up the rocks. It had been quite a little adventure. Damn it, though. Poor Heather. They should’ve just stayed in camp after all.

  “Hand me my water bottle?” Julie asked.

  “Sure.”

  She turned away. Nick unzipped a side pocket of her pack, and pulled out the green plastic container. He watched Julie tilt the bottle to her lips and drink. Her face was burnished with sunburn, her nose peeling a bit. The leather band of her beret was dark with sweat. When she finished drinking, she offered a drink to Nick. He took a few swallows, and slid the bottle back into her pack.

  “This is gonna be a bear,” she said.

  “Yeah. Especially for Heather.”

  “That idiot brother of mine.”

  “Looks like it’ll be switchbacks from here to the top.”

  “Don’t you just love switchbacks?”

  “On the bright side, it’ll all be downhill to Lake Wilson.”

  “If we can just make it to the top.”

  Down the trail, Scott and Karen appeared, hiking side by side through the shadows. “Let’s hold it up,” Scott called. “Wait for the others.”

  “How’s Heather doing?” Julie asked.

  “Holding her own.”

  They waited. Soon, Nick saw Rose coming up the trail. His father and mother were a short distance behind the girl. Dad was carrying Heather’s red backpack like an unwieldy grocery bag. Nick hurried down. Taking the pack from his father, he saw Benny and Heather. They were far back. Heather, limping along with the aid of Nick’s blackthorn stick, laughed at something Benny said. A good sign. At least she wasn’t whimpering with pain.

  Nick turned away. He trudged up the trail ahead of his parents.

  “Is that pretty heavy?” Julie asked.

  “Not as bad as ours.”

  Karen stepped toward him. “Let me feel.” She took Heather’s pack from his arms. “Why don’t we split up what’s in it? We’ll each carry some, and nobody’ll be stuck with lugging around a full pack all day.”

  “Not only pretty, but brilliant,” Dad said. “Any objections?”

  Rose wrinkled her face, but nodded with defeat. Everyone else acted as if it were a great idea. Heather watched, looking embarrassed, while packs were opened and rearranged to make room for her belongings. When her father started to lash her empty pack to his own, she finally objected. “I can carry that.”

  “No trouble,” he told her.

  “I’ll carry it,” Benny said. His voice was a little whiny. “It’s all my fault.”

  “Hey, those things happen,” Dad consoled him. “Don’t blame
yourself.”

  Benny looked around as if searching for a hole to crawl into. Finding none, he let out a deep sigh. “I’m sorry, everybody.”

  “No sweat,” Scott told him.

  “Sure,” Julie said. “It’ll be fun carrying a little extra weight.”

  Scott scowled at her.

  “I knew we shouldn’t have let them go off last night,” Mom said. “Nobody listens to me. Next time—”

  “Let’s get this show on the road,” Dad interrupted. “We’ve got a mountain to climb.”

  Shouldering their packs, they started up the trail again. The trees thinned out, leaving fewer patches of shade, then no shade at all.

  Nick and Julie, in the lead, paused often to wait for the others to catch up. Finally, near noon, they stopped at one of the flat areas where the trail turned back on itself in its zigzag up the mountainside. They shed their packs and sat on a boulder. Scott and Karen were a distance down the trail, slowly trudging closer.

  “Who ever said backpacking’s fun?” Julie asked.

  “Not me.”

  “Shit.” She lifted the front of her T-shirt and rubbed her sweaty face. Nick glanced at her bare midriff. She pulled the shirt down again. It clung to her. “Feel like I’m gonna die.”

  “At least there’s a little breeze.”

  “How’d you like to dive in a swimming pool about now?”

  “I’d dive into anything that’s cold,” Nick said.

  “You and me both. Man, this is the pits. How’d we get into this? We could be home right now, having iced tea by the swimming pool.”

  “A hamburger and chocolate shake at Burger King.”

  “On the other hand…”

  “What?”

  “Well.” Julie looked at him, and shrugged. “If we weren’t up here in this godforsaken armpit of a wilderness, we wouldn’t…I wouldn’t have got to know you. I mean, I’m glad about that anyway.”

  The words made Nick’s heart pound fast. “Maybe when we get back, we could—I don’t know—go to the movies or something.”

  She met his eyes. She smiled slightly. “By then, you’ll be sick of me.”

  “Maybe,” he said.

  Julie laughed.

  “I doubt it, though.”

  Karen called, “Where’s the top?”

  “Up there someplace,” Julie answered.

  “That’s the rumor,” Nick added.

  “You guys are really burning up the trail,” Scott said.

  Julie nodded. “Regular roadrunners.”

  Scott and Karen took off their packs. Scott looked as if the strenuous hike had barely fazed him. He wasn’t even breathing hard. Karen looked just as good. She fluttered the front of her plaid shirt, then opened the three lower buttons. She gathered up the shirttails and made a knot just below her breasts. “Nice breeze,” she said. She lay down against her pack, and fanned her face with her floppy hat.

  “We thought,” Julie said, “that this’d be as good a place as any to have lunch.”

  “Sounds good,” Scott said.

  After a lunch of gorp, dehydrated fruit slices, shortbread cookies, and Tropical Chocolate bars, they resumed the hike. At first, the weight of his pack felt unbearable to Nick. His shoulders and back throbbed with pain, and his legs seemed barely capable of supporting him. He felt like collapsing, but forced himself to take one step after another. Slowly, the torment faded, as if his body were giving up its rebellion, accepting its role as a beast of burden.

  He walked behind Julie and matched his stride to hers. Her boots were powdered with trail dust. One sock was slightly lower than the other. The seat of her white shorts had two half-moons of yellow-brown dirt from sitting down, and he could see the outline of her panties through the thin fabric. The panties were very brief. Like a bikini bottom. “Did you bring a bathing suit?” he asked.

  “Sure. You?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Water’s so cold, though. We’d freeze our butts.”

  “Those girls swam.”

  “Must be polar bears.”

  “Probably not bad, once you’re in it.”

  “Depends. Some lakes aren’t so bad.”

  “Warmer if they’re shallow,” Nick said.

  “Depends on the runoff, too.”

  “Way I feel, I’d swim in ice cubes.”

  “We get to Wilson in time, I’d give it a try.”

  They trudged along in silence. Looking up the slope, Nick could see where the mountainside ended. It didn’t seem far above them, but he realized that the view might be deceiving. The area that appeared to be the top from here might turn out to be a shelf, the rest of the mountain farther back and out of sight. He tried not to let his hopes get too high.

  He and Julie were still a distance below the apparent top, however, when the trail, instead of switching back, continued forward and curved around the slope. A strong, cool wind blew against Nick. Julie stopped. He moved up beside her. She smiled at him. “What do you know,” she said.

  “Didn’t think we’d ever make it.”

  Ahead of them, the trail wound over a flat, barren area between two bluffs. Then it dropped out of sight. In the distance, Nick saw peaks shrouded by clouds. A few minutes of hiking took them across the level area. They shed their packs and sat on a block of granite. From there, the trail started gradually downward along a narrow ridge. To the right of the ridge was a deep ravine. To the left was a shallow valley with two lakes. The lower lake, no more than a hundred feet below their perch, was larger than the other, bounded by rocky slopes except for a small stand of pine at its western shore. The upper lake, just above its southwest end, looked treeless and even more desolate.

  “Must be the Mesquites,” Nick said.

  “The ranger was right. They’re the pits.”

  “I don’t see anyone down there.”

  “The Madwoman of the Mesquites?” Julie asked. “She’s probably moved on. I mean, who’d want to camp there? Looks like the backside of the moon.”

  “I hope Lake Wilson’s better than these.”

  “The ranger said it was nice. Besides, it’s about a thousand feet lower.”

  “What is it, three or four miles?”

  “Something like that.”

  Nick followed the trail with his eyes. It passed above Lower Mesquite, and vanished behind a steep wall of granite. “At least it’ll be downhill,” he said.

  “Sometimes that’s worse.”

  “Yeah. Gets you in the toes.”

  “And everywhere else.”

  Scott and Karen arrived. They took off their packs, and settled down on a nearby boulder. Karen lifted her blouse again and tied it in front as she’d done when they stopped for lunch. “Ah,” she said, “that wind’s terrific.”

  “I don’t like the looks of those clouds,” Scott said.

  The clouds hugging the distant peaks were thick and gray. Nick figured that they must be at least ten miles away.

  “I don’t think I’d mind a little rain,” Karen said.

  “It’d put a damper on dinner.”

  “Maybe it’ll miss us,” Julie said.

  Scott shook his head. “Looks like they’re coming our way. These mountain storms are unpredictable, though. Could pass over us without leaving a drop. Or we might be in for it. Only time will tell.”

  “Time wounds all heals,” Karen said.

  “Time’s like hiking, then,” Scott added.

  “Like Benny,” Julie said. “He’s the greatest heel wounder of all time.”

  Scott looked pained. “Why don’t you ease up on that? Benny feels bad enough without your help.”

  “He’s not here.”

  Scott ignored the remark and stared out over the valley. Karen leaned back against her pack. She folded her hands on top of her head, mashing the soft crown of her hat. “I wonder,” she said, “if Heather can make it as far as Wilson.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Ettie watched with despair through a crevice in the r
ocks. Luck had sure turned against them. Maybe the Master was dishing out punishment, paying them back for what Merle did to those other two campers—claiming he offered them down when he did no such thing, but just went at them for his own need and then laid it on the Master.

  Then again, maybe Ettie wasn’t judging the matter right. Could be a test. Maybe even an offering. She’d have to find out for sure, so she’d know what to do.

  One thing was sure: the campers were fixing to stay. They were down in the clearing by the trees, setting up four tents, a kid in glasses rounding up rocks to build a fireplace.

  Ettie eased away from the crevice and made her way across the slope to the cave entrance. Turning sideways, she squeezed through the opening. The murky light inside seemed very dark after the brightness, but she saw the dim shape of Merle sprawled out on one of the sleeping bags. She sat down on the other bag. Sunlight from the fissure overhead made a hot band along her crossed legs. She leaned back slightly against the cool granite wall.

  “You awake, Merle?”

  “Just laying here. I sure like this sleeping bag. It’s the softest thing.”

  “We’ve got some folks down by the lake.”

  He sat up so fast that it startled Ettie.

  “Just stay put,” she warned.

  He was almost to his feet, but he dropped down again as if his legs had gone soft. “Can’t I see ’em, Ettie?”

  “Just sit still.”

  “Who are they?” he asked.

  “How’d I know that?”

  “They snooping?”

  “They’re putting up a camp. One’s soaking her foot in the lake. She came limping in pretty bad. I guess she hurt herself in the pass. I figure that’s maybe why they stopped.”

  “A girl?”

  “Don’t get your heat up. They got three men along.”

  “Can’t I just look?”