The Witch On Twisted Oak

by Muller, Susan C.

  Her lips were blue and she shivered uncontrollably. Of course she was cold. Was it even fifty degrees? Maybe, maybe not. Frost had coated his breath while he ran. And she had on a thin T-shirt and flip-flops. What had happened to their Indian summer? Yesterday must have hit eighty.

  He pulled her onto his lap and wrapped his arms around her. “You’ll be warm in a few minutes.”

  Not lying on that damp ground with only a layer of leaves over her. He had to wrap this up fast, or she’d be in trouble. Was she right? Should they keep going and look for help?

  Not mid-week, and not this time of year. They were all alone and if he didn’t find Jacinto before Jacinto found them, they were both dead.

  He started to pull off his shorts.

  “What are you doing? You can’t take those off.”

  “I’m going to tear them up and wrap them around my feet. I can’t keep going like this.” He pulled a thorn out of one foot and removed a sticker burr from between his toes. “Wearing them doesn’t make me any safer. One sixteenth of an inch of cotton won’t stop a bullet.”

  “It won’t stop a sticker, either. Use my shoes.” She pulled off a flip-flop and handed it to him.

  “I can’t wear these.” It was less than half the size of his foot.

  “Tie them to the bottom of your feet.” The knee of her pants was torn and she ripped the leg off and handed it to him.

  It was a crazy idea, but it worked. Sort of. He took a few steps. Better than going barefoot through the woods.

  He waited while she adjusted her position then spread the leaves over her, starting at her feet and working up.

  When he reached her head, he squatted in front of her, holding out the gun. “You remember how to use this. You practiced with it yesterday. If you’re sure Jacinto sees you, you have to shoot him. Wait till he’s close, but not close enough to touch you. Until that time, you don’t move, you hardly breathe. As still as the stars, as silent as a shadow.”

  He finished covering her head with leaves and added a broken limb. “Don’t you come out, no matter what you hear. If he sees you, he will kill you. That’s a certainty. And I can’t be chasing him and worrying about you.”

  “What about you? You should have the gun.” Her voice was muffled under the ground cover.

  “I can take care of myself. Better men than he have tried to kill me.”

  And he didn’t need a gun against a looser like Jacinto. Not when her life was at stake.

  A break in the leaf-cover allowed Tessa to see straight in front of her, although nothing to either side.

  She watched Ruben jog several feet away before stopping to study the area around her. He stared directly at her hiding place. She held her breath, even tried to slow her racing heart.

  When he smiled and gave a thumbs-up, she released her breath, disturbing a leaf that had been lying flat. Now it tickled her nose. She blew at it, then snorted. It moved a fraction of an inch, but threatened to return each time she inhaled.

  Ruben disappeared into the trees, and the forest noises returned. Her eyes burned and she realized she had been so focused on watching for danger, she had forgotten to blink. She closed her eyes while she counted to ten. When she opened them, the burning had lessened.

  How much time had passed? Thirty minutes? No, it couldn’t be. Probably half that. Had Ruben gone back to the cabin? Where was Jacinto?

  The damp ground soaked into her pajamas and the wet cloth stuck to her already chilled skin. She began to shiver. What had she read about Canadian airmen on long flights? She tensed and untensed her muscles. That helped some.

  A prickling sensation started at her feet and traveled up her leg. Was it ants? If felt like ants. Unless it was a spider.

  Don’t think about that. Think about something else.

  The air in her hole was damp and full of mold. Her nose started to run. Could she move her arm to wipe it? She twisted her head to the side and rubbed her nose against her shoulder.

  Ahhh. How could something so little feel so good? But now the ants were back. If only she wasn’t so cold. What was taking Ruben so long? Had he been hurt? She should have gone with him.

  She hated women in movies who stood on the side and screamed while the hero did all the work. She had the gun, maybe she ought to get out and go look for them.

  Ten minutes. She could stand it for ten more minutes. If nothing had happened by then, she’d crawl out and go find Ruben.

  Chapter 36

  Ruben squatted behind a tree and studied the cabin. No sign of Jacinto that he could see, but that intuition Adam had admired screamed at him to wait.

  A strange shadow moved beside the house. Jacinto?

  More likely a squirrel.

  Every fiber in him wanted to run like hell into the cabin and grab his Glock. Maybe some shoes, even a coat.

  Too much open space. What made him think the Glock was still there, anyway? Jacinto probably had it in his coat pocket. His nice, warm coat.

  No, he’d hidden the Glock in a kitchen cabinet, behind the peas.

  He shivered. If he was this cold, what about Tessa? She was lying on wet ground, and didn’t have an ounce of fat to keep her warm. How long before the willies got to her and she crawled out? He should have found a better spot for her.

  What if he made a commotion? Drew Jacinto to him? Then what, yell Boo and scare the guy to death?

  Time to make his way back to Tessa. If Jacinto had managed to follow them, she might be in danger. Her spot was well hidden. The asshole would never find it on his own. If she hadn’t moved.

  He backed silently deeper into the woods. Thorns tugged at his skin, adding new scratches to the one he already had. An unpleasant bath in alcohol awaited him, if he lived over this. Insects buzzed around him. He brushed them away. No time to worry about them now.

  As he took one last glance at the cabin, Jacinto scurried out the door, hugging the side of the building.

  If he’d gone into the cabin, he’d be dead now.

  Jacinto darted across the clearing and into the woods, only feet from when he’d been minutes earlier. A dull glint caught his eye.

  Son-of-a-bitch, he found my Glock.

  This was his first good look at Jacinto since the day he’d broken the guy’s leg. The awkward, rolling walk, said it hadn’t healed well. That alone didn’t account for his unattractiveness.

  The old man had mentioned he liked to box. That hadn’t done his face any favors. In addition to adolescent acne scars, his nose resembled a well-used piece of Play-Doh. So did one of his ears.

  Even that might be overlooked. The general sense of evil he emitted couldn’t be. Those vibrations traveled through the trees and hit Ruben, hiding behind a wall of bushes.

  He remembered a character in some cartoon he used to watch. The poor kid had a black cloud over his head that followed him everywhere. On Jacinto, it was more of a haze that surrounded his whole body.

  Was this that aura thing people talked about? Nah, just the dirt he’d probably rolled in.

  His black suit had one knee torn and blood dripped from scratches on his face.

  Ruben was close enough to hear him mutter, “Fucking cat. I’ll save you for last.”

  Jacinto hunched over and tried to tiptoe through the leaves and twigs. He didn’t have the grace to pull it off. Ruben eased up and followed from a distance.

  The route he chose wasn’t straight; it swerved and circled, but headed in Tessa’s direction.

  He needed to close up on him, but couldn’t do it in here. He’d have to wait until Jacinto stepped into the open. And that was too close to Tessa. Please, God. Don’t let her have moved.

  As he followed, he watched the ground for a branch strong enough to do some damage on Jacinto’s thick skull. Everything appeared too small, or rotten. If he could manage to get an arm around his neck from behind . . .

  Jacinto stopped and pivoted in a full circle. Ruben willed himself to blend into a tree.

  It must have worke
d; Jacinto kept going. Every step closer to Tessa.

  That was it. Something had definitely crawled into her one remaining pant leg and was making its way up her calf.

  Tessa set the gun down and placed her palms on the ground, ready to push herself up.

  What was that? Did she hear something? The crickets and birds that had taken up their song as soon as Ruben disappeared had fallen silent again.

  If only she could see more than a tunnel directly in front of her face. She exhaled and closed her eyes, but her body wouldn’t relax.

  Someone was out there, she knew it. But was it Ruben or Jacinto? She closed her hand around the pistol.

  A face appeared in front of her, blocking off all the light. A gray, furry face with whiskers and a nose that twitched.

  She hissed, and the squirrel shot up a nearby tree and barked at her. Stupid rodent. Why had she ever though they were cute? But it helped her forget the spider crawling inside her pajamas so maybe she could forgive him for scaring her.

  Jacinto stood at the edge of the small clearing and scanned the area, his head moving from tree to tree.

  How far could two half-naked people travel through this minefield of branches and stickers? He wore thick shoes and a heavy coat, but his hands were cold and he was covered with scratches and had sticker-burrs imbedded in his socks and pant legs.

  He watched the small clump of trees and decided Marquez couldn’t hide in such a tiny space. He’d cut across the clearing and maybe get a glimpse of the sun. Chase away the claustrophobia that had closed in on him. Every few steps he was sure he heard someone following him, but when he twisted around, no one was there.

  His nerves were beyond frayed, trying to look in every direction at once. He’d take five minutes, sit with his back against a tree and enjoy the sun. Maybe warm up a little.

  Let the light chase away images of a dark closet and the hours he’d spent there as his parents’ favorite form of punishment.

  Those were definitely footsteps. No question about it. But whose?

  Tessa held her breath and squinted her eyes closed. If she couldn’t see them, they couldn’t see her. Right?

  She heard a splash and something warm and wet ran over her feet. Holy Mother! Someone was peeing on her. Was it Jacinto, or a mountain lion or whatever you called that cat-like animal mounted on the cabin wall?

  If it was Jacinto, it surely meant he didn’t see her. But it also meant she couldn’t move, and certainly not scream.

  How could she lie still, knowing her feet were covered in urine? Not only that, now she needed to pee. Bet the ants wouldn’t bother her feet any more.

  Footsteps came around the tree and stopped in front of her. A pair of scuffed shoes waited at the edge of her vision.

  Her breath stuck in her chest as a body slid down the tree and sat, blocking most of her light. She gripped the gun and studied the man’s black jacket. Could she shoot an unsuspecting person in the back?

  What if it wasn’t Jacinto? It could be a deer hunter. Not wearing dress shoes and a suit coat. But what about another policeman who’d come to help them? Not likely. No one knew they were in trouble.

  Still, she couldn’t shoot this guy even if he had a nametag reading ‘Ruben Jacinto, professional killer.’

  A scream built in her throat, but she swallowed it down. If Ruben didn’t come soon, she might not be able to stop the next one.

  Chapter 37

  Ruben gaped in horror when Jacinto relieved himself in Tessa’s direction. Could she stay quiet while that was going on? Could he have?

  Why hadn’t he made his move while Jacinto was occupied? Because he was still too far away, that’s why. He eased closer, one step, pause, two steps, pause. He reached the edge of the tree line as Jacinto leaned back against a tree.

  Now what? All cover was gone. Should he run at him and hope to take him by surprise, or continue to close the distance with stealth?

  If only he could see. Was the gun in his hand, or lying on the ground? That fraction of a second might make all the difference.

  What the hell? He wasn’t built for stealth. And if Tessa moved . . .

  Ruben slipped out from behind a tree, took a deep breath, and ran like his life depended on it. A twig snapped after only two steps.

  Jacinto twisted toward the sound, but from a seated position, he couldn’t bring his weapon around far enough. He twisted the other direction and took aim.

  A cruel grin crossed his face. “Enjoy it while you can, Marquez. You’ll never run again.” He lowered the Glock toward Ruben’s knee as Ruben pivoted and changed direction.

  An unearthly scream split the air, and a creature made of mud and leaves rose from the ground and crashed into Jacinto. He fell to the side, still holding the Glock.

  Ruben was on him in an instant, grappling for control of the gun. Tessa tugged on the weapon, but her hands were wet and muddy and slid off without any impact.

  She fell onto her back, and struggled like a turtle to regain her footing.

  Ruben spared a quick glance her direction, but couldn’t help her. He leaned his weight on his left hand, pinning Jacinto’s gun hand to the ground, drew back his fist, and socked Jacinto in the jaw as hard as he was able from a prone position.

  Jacinto hardly blinked.

  What the fuck’s he got, a titanium jaw?

  Ruben socked him again, but the only thing damaged was his fist.

  Jacinto grabbed a handful of Ruben’s hair and yanked, just as he twisted to the side. They both rolled, with Jacinto landing on top. He still held the gun, but Ruben’s grip on his wrist hadn’t eased.

  A flash of muddy cotton passed him as Tessa stumbled and swerved toward the tree line. She’d be safer there, but the signs of hypothermia were alarming.

  He had to finish this fast. If she wondered into the woods and passed out, he’d have trouble finding her and she could be in big trouble.

  He gripped Jacinto’s neck and tried to squeeze, but the man was shaped like a block and had a neck as wide as his head. Jacinto leaned his head back and Ruben’s hand slipped off.

  He made another fist, but this time aimed for Jacinto’s Adam’s apple. Jacinto saw it coming and blocked it with his free hand. The blow landed, but did little harm.

  Jacinto pulled his head back and head-butted him. If the muddy ground hadn’t softened the blow, Ruben didn’t want to know what force it might have had.

  They swung at each other from awkward positions, landing several blows, but inflicting little damage beyond cuts and bruises. Ruben’s hands were so cold his fists only closed half way.

  He began pushing with one foot, hoping to roll Jacinto off of him, when he saw Tessa headed back toward them. She was walking straighter and dragging a tree limb. Why was she coming back? The hypothermia must be worse than he thought.

  He gave a shove and lifted himself to his knees. Tessa swung the limb just as Jacinto threw himself to the side. Ruben tried to duck but Tessa struck him on the forehead. In the exact same spot Jacinto had head-butted him moments before.

  Tiny black dots swam in his vision. He didn’t lose consciousness, but for a few seconds his body refused to respond to commands. Jacinto yanked his gun hand from Ruben’s grip and kicked him in the kidneys. He toppled slowly to one side.

  Jacinto raised his foot and stomped on Ruben’s left leg. Ruben saw it coming and rolled but that only softened the blow, not avoided it.

  When Jacinto turned toward Tessa, she tried to run, but managed only a few stumbling steps before he caught her. He dragged her back to where Ruben struggled to sit up. He kicked Ruben back to the ground and put his foot on his neck.

  Ruben placed both hands around Jacinto’s ankle and tried to move it, but he had no more strength than a child. As the wet ground soaked his bare back he started to shiver and wondered what he’d done to Tessa, leaving her in the open is so few clothes.

  Jacinto increased the pressure on his throat as he slipped the Glock into his waistband. Tessa struggled,
but didn’t have a chance as he held both her arms.

  Mud and dirt clung to every inch of her body, even her face. Leaves and sticks caught in her hair, her lips were blue, and her T-shirt clung to her skin. A lump of mud fell off her shoulder like a piece of rotting flesh off a zombie.

  Somehow she managed to look both horrifying and sexy at the same time and Ruben gave one last effort to move Jacinto’s foot. Jacinto wiggled it, like he was crushing a cigarette, and Ruben’s arms fell to the ground, useless. His vision reduced to a tunnel.

  “Do it. Your mother wouldn’t.” Jacinto’s voice cut through the fog in Ruben’s brain. “If you don’t want to end up like her, you’ll do it.”

  He saw Jacinto grab Tessa’s hand. She struggled, but couldn’t pull away. A moan escaped her lips and it sent a chill down Ruben’s already frozen body.

  “Do it,” he said again.

  “What do you want?” Tessa cried.

  “Read my palm. Tell me what’s in store for me. Will I ever find someone who loves me?”

  Ruben’s head swirled and he tried to make sense of what he heard. This wasn’t about the drug business? Tessa always insisted her mother wouldn’t have anything to do with criminals. But to kill people over advice for the lovelorn? He and Tessa were about to die because Jacinto couldn’t get laid?

  “I don’t know,” Tessa pleaded.

  “I’ve asked you once. If you don’t answer, I’ll shoot him in the arm. If you don’t answer then, I’ll shoot him in the leg. When I finish with his arms and legs, I’ll shoot him in the stomach. I’ve heard that’s a slow and painful way to go. Is that what you want?”

  “No. No. But I don’t know the answer.”

  Make something up, Ruben screamed in his mind.

  A gunshot rang out close to his head and he felt a small bump in the fleshy part of his arm. Had Jacinto aimed into the ground and a rock flew up and hit him? Something had to go fast. He wouldn’t aim at the ground again.

  “Never,” Tessa screamed. He could hear the tears in her voice. “Never. You’ll never find someone who loves you.”