Timberlands: Blood and Prey

by J.J. Mainor

  Chapter 16

  Gunner dug the radio from his pocket, but by the time he had it, the sender went silent.

  “Zach,” he pleaded. “Zach, are you there?

  With no response, he took up his gun and charged into the woods. As if knowing where his friends were, he made for the trail heading to the killer’s home.

  Kimberly called out, but he was gone before she could plead her case.

  “Let him go,” Raymond commanded. “There’s something we need to talk about.”

  Without protest, Kimberly retook her seat beside the dying fire.

  “The pamphlet for the mental health facility? That was for me. Those demons the Natives mentioned, I saw them for myself. Everyone I knew of who survived death paid a price. They all lost their sanity. Many became psychotic. Those articles in my pack are about a guy who survived and went on a killing spree. This guy running around the woods survived his own trauma. I’ll bet you’re already hearing the voices breaking through the clutter in your head. They are in mine. It’s taken every ounce of concentration not to pick up a rock and bash your friend’s skull in.”

  Kimberly leaned forward concerned. “If you knew this would happen, why did you let this place save you?”

  “I’m hoping the insanity can be stopped. There are drugs. There are treatments for mental illness. I hoped to get out of here and get that treatment before the demons got a permanent footing in my head.”

  Kimberly’s eyes glanced off towards Gunner’s tent. As if sensing her thoughts, Raymond’s eyes followed.

  “What about Greg,” she asked.

  Raymond opened his mouth to answer, but Gunner’s return gave him pause. The young man was in tears. His gun dangled from his fingers, barely in his grasp.

  “Zach is dead,” he blurted out.

  Kimberly jumped to her feet, worried. The tears welled in her eyes fearful the same news applied to her boyfriend. “Maybe he’s just hurt like Greg was…like I was.”

  “No,” he sobbed. “His head…” He could not finish. His friend’s head had been broken wide open. It was too hideous for him to even voice. The killer had made sure there would be no recovery.

  “What about Reese,” Kimberly demanded. “Where is Reese?”

  Gunner shook his head. “I don’t know. I didn’t see him.”

  A spark of hope excited Kimberly. “He could still be alive! We have to go find him!”

  She looked to the forest anxious to go after her boyfriend, but Gunner held her back. “If he was alive, he’d be here. We have to take Greg and leave.”

  “What about the flat tires,” Raymond inquired.

  “Fuck ‘em! I’ll drive on the rims.” He nudged Raymond forward toward the van, and tried to lead Kimberly. She broke free from his grip and turned again to the forest behind.

  “I’m not leaving without Reese,” she protested. “You left without Greg before, and he was alive. I’m not leaving Reese behind.” Remembering Raymond’s confession, she took up a rock to defend herself. “I won’t let you stop me, Gunner.”

  As the killer stepped from the woods behind her, Raymond pointed. “He might though.”

  Kimberly spun around, finding herself face to face with something from Hell itself. The light from the fire reflected off the blood covering what was once his face, dripping through his beard, and soaking his clothes. He still had the ax in one hand, while his mangled hand held loosely to the Bowie knife reclaimed from Zach.

  Gunner found himself again in that night from the prior month, with Kimberly standing in for Greg. He raised his gun unwilling to second guess his decisions again. His shot was not clear though.

  “Kimberly,” he called, “get out of the way!”

  But Kimberly didn’t hear him. She only heard the voice in her own head taking over, telling her to make this guy suffer for stealing her boyfriend. She raised her rock to strike, but the killer was quicker, plunging the knife into her side.

  Gunner circled to get his shot. The killer, on the upswing, struck his hand with the ax, knocking the gun into a darkened thicket of trees. The downswing brought the ax into Kimberly’s head. She crumpled into a lifeless pile on the ground.

  Raymond pulled a stunned Gunner away from the fire. “It’s time to go!”

  Gunner led Raymond to the tents, stopping to rip open his own. “Greg, get out here!” But Greg was not inside. He had slipped out when they weren’t paying attention. Gunner lost what sense he had left, calling for his brother. But the killer finished with Kimberly and made his own way across the camp. There was no time to figure this out. Raymond grabbed Gunner, almost dragging him the rest of the way to the van.

  They jumped in locking their doors. As Gunner fumbled for his keys, Raymond climbed to the back, locking the remaining doors.

  “Greg’s alive,” Gunner announced. “I’m not leaving without him this time.”

  Raymond climbed back into the front seat. “I don’t see much of a choice for us.”

  The killer tapped on Raymond’s window, startling both men. Gunner dropped the keys, losing them between the seats. Raymond searched around for a weapon, but the front of the van was rather clean. The cigarette lighter captured his eye, so he pushed it in.

  Then the ax head came through the window. Raymond grabbed it, keeping the killer from taking it back. As they struggled over the weapon, the old man secured his grip with one hand, freeing the other to search his pockets. Out came a pocket knife.

  “Where was that back at the fire,” Gunner demanded.

  Raymond fumbled to open the blade one-handed. “Just start this van!” He turned to get his foot against the door. The added leverage allowed him to pull the killer through the window so he could drive the knife into his hand. The killer separated from the ax, but took the knife with him out the window.

  “I got his ax,” Raymond boasted.

  “Great.” Zach could feel the keys, but he could not twist his fingers to grip them, nor could he seem to pull them closer. “Now we can chop some wood!”

  Having recovered himself, the killer reached through the window and grabbed the old man. While they struggled for a second time, Raymond found the ax to be a useless weapon inside the close quarters of the van. He reached for the cigarette lighter and pressed it against the killer’s cheek. The killer gave no reaction to it. Raymond saw he was handling other pain well, but still reacting to it. Confused, he touched the lighter to his own skin. It was not even warm.

  “Doesn’t your cigarette lighter work?”

  “How should I know?” Gunner finally had the keys in his grasp. He took them up and placed one in the ignition. “I don’t smoke.”

  With a twist of the key, the van roared to life. He threw it carelessly into gear. Slamming the gas pedal to the floor, he glanced behind at the road he was to back into. Instead of moving backwards though, the van lurched forward into a tree. Raymond had been freed from the killer’s grip, but was thrown into the dashboard.

  Gunner corrected the gears. He pressed on the gas again, but the van refused to move. Something had frozen it in place.

  The killer came to Raymond’s window a third time. The old man turned to Gunner knowing their options were leaving them. “I’ll hold him off. You go find your brother.” He slammed open his door, throwing the killer onto his back.

  Gunner jumped out his door and bolted up the dirt road. He had no light but the moon to show him the way. Even it raced westward trying to reach the safety of the horizon as if the heavens themselves held no hope of surviving the night. But it had to survive just a little bit longer, just as Gunner needed his brother to.