Will the Sun Ever Come Out Again?

by Nate Southard

  “Something moving through the woods to the east,” Joe said. “Trying to be quiet, but I heard footsteps loud and clear.”

  “Could be a deer,” Sidney said.

  “Doesn’t matter. We’re supposed to be cautious.”

  “So we check it out,” Ratner said. “Everybody stays alert.”

  Renee shook her head, blond hair whipping in the darkness. “I don’t want to go out there.”

  “We don’t want you out there, Paris.”

  “Stop calling me that.”

  Mitchell pulled her close. “I can stay back with her, keep an eye on things.”

  Ratner took a turn shaking his head. “No deal. I don’t trust the two of you alone.”

  “You can trust her,” Mitchell said.

  “Sid, you want to hang back with her?” Davey asked.

  I watched annoyance and disappointment wage a silent war in Sidney’s eyes. “Fine,” she said. “Anything gets past you, I’ll handle it.”

  “That’s what I like to hear.” Then, Davey led Ratner out the cabin’s back door, and I followed Joe out the front.

  The night was clear and calm, a little cooler than I’d expected. Goosebumps erupted along my arms and legs, and I gripped the pistol with both hands, hoping the action might quell the shivers racing through me. I won’t pretend nerves didn’t play at least a small part. With each step, I half-expected to be lit up from above, a black helicopter nailing me to the ground with a spotlight. From there I’d either be shoved to the forest floor by federal agents of just have my switch flipped by bullets.

  Heading toward the forest’s edge, I shook off the heavy thoughts. They were nothing more than distractions, a good way to get killed. If Joe really had heard something, any threats would be on the ground. I pressed my back to a tree as Joe did the same ten yards from me. Holding my breath, I listened to the night. It didn’t answer. A heavy silence blanketed the forest, and I couldn’t even hear Davey and Ratner on the other side of the cabin.

  I turned and gave Joe a look. He held a finger to his lips and pointed deeper into the trees. Maybe he heard something I didn’t. A second later, a single rustling footstep caught my attention. The snap of a twig followed it. Joe eased into a crouch, the shotgun hard against his shoulder, and I did the same. He pushed away from the tree and started into the forest. Whoever was out there was close, no more than twenty yards, concealed by darkness and trees and the thick vegetation that all but choked the forest floor. As I followed Joe, I wondered what we might find, what we’d have to do. Were we seconds from a firefight? We hadn’t thought to put on our vests. Stupid.

  We closed to within ten feet of the snapping twig, and then a tortured screech stopped us. The agonized sound peeled out of the brush. I jumped, nearly firing a shot into the ground, and I saw Joe curl in a tighter posture. He threw a look over his shoulder and waved for me to follow, and then he was out of his crouch and charging forward, rushing toward what sounded like an animal being tortured. I broke right as he went left, determined to surround whatever was close and dangerous, but the underbrush slowed me. Even sprinting, I had to wrestle my way through bushes and branches and knotty vines. The screams died off before I joined Joe. By then, we heard Davey and Ratner rushing toward us.

  When Joe lowered his weapon, I did the same. Something had been there, but it was gone now. Joe held up a hand as the others approached, and their rushing footsteps became slow and cautious, just shy of casual. He pointed toward the ground, and the rest of us looked. Davey stooped beside the mess and played a penlight over it.

  If I had to guess, I’d say it used to be a rabbit. I saw a lot of fur and a lot of blood spread across the ground, but little I’d call identifiable. Something had torn the little bastard apart, hadn’t killed it or tortured it so much as ruined it.

  “Coyote?” Ratner asked.

  Joe shrugged. “Maybe a bobcat.”

  Davey prodded a scrap of fur with the muzzle of his weapon. “Would have been nice if it had left some meat behind.”

  “Let’s do a quick sweep and head back in.”

  We agreed and got to work. Five minutes later, we decided we were indeed alone, and we went back to bed. Moving forward, I just have to remember to keep my eyes open in the woods. Don’t want to wind up face to face with a bobcat.

  August 20th

  Renee’s gone. Mitchell swears he doesn’t know where she went, that he woke to find her gone, no note left behind and the few belongings she’d brought right where he’d last seen them. Just in case, we have him cuffed to a chair. Honestly, I don’t think it’s some grand plan of theirs. Most likely, she got scared and ran in the middle of the night, left everything behind and didn’t bother taking one of the vehicles because she didn’t want to wake anyone.

  At the heart of it all, her being gone really makes things rough for us. The only scenario we can think of that doesn’t end with her giving away our position involves her being found by either us or whatever tore apart that animal. Right now, the others are out searching the forest. It’s my turn to keep an eye on Mitchell. We figure if he wasn’t in on it, there’s still an outside chance his wife will come back for him. Yeah, that idea hinges on Renee being an idiot, but there’s no end to the idiots out there.

  Tried talking to Mitchell a bit. Didn’t go well.

  “Did she talk about leaving?”

  “No. I mean, she didn’t want to come here. The first night, she wanted to go, said we were paranoid. I explained it to her, though. Maybe she hadn’t come around completely, but she was getting there.”

  “You explained it to her?” I couldn’t believe he was serious.

  “I know my wife. She loves me, okay? We communicate. I didn’t have to abandon her to prove it, either.”

  “Watch it, Mitchell.”

  “Please.” He got this look on his face like he’d just tasted something rotten. “I’m not an idiot. If they don’t find her out there, I’m the one who’s gonna get tortured for it. Somebody’s going to think I know something.”

  I shook my head, hoping he wouldn’t realize I’d already considered the idea. “You want coffee?” I asked. Seemed like a good way to veer off that road.

  “I’m fine.” He didn’t look happy.

  “Well, I can use some coffee. Everybody else will need some, too. Probably got a long day ahead of all of us.”

  “Guess it might get real long.” I guess he was still thinking about torture. Who could blame him?

  As I bustled around the cabin’s kitchen, getting a pot ready to brew, I didn’t talk to Mitchell. Didn’t even look at him. Every time I saw him, I felt my anger grow a little hotter, like an ember in a gentle breeze, threatening to catch. A quick glance out the window didn’t show anybody marching back, Renee in tow.

  “What was I supposed to do?” Mitchell asked. “She’s my wife. That’s…it’s like she’s a part of me. I’m really just supposed to leave that behind?”

  That breeze picked up a little, and the ember glowed. I saw Jenny’s face as I told her there was someone else and that I was leaving. Tears spilled down her face. Her lips trembled and pulled back to show grinding teeth. Somewhere in the house, the kids wailed.

  I waited for the coffee, staring at a block of knives on the kitchen counter. My knuckles burned, and I stuffed my fists into my pockets.

  The back door opened and Sidney entered. She looked tired, her face coated in a thin sheen of sweat and dirt.

  “Anything?” I asked.

  “Joe thinks he might have found some tracks. Maybe. Anything from Mitchell?”

  “He thinks he’s the only one who loves his family.” Petty, but it felt good.

  “I never said that.”

  I poured Sidney a cup of coffee, and she sipped at it while she stared down Mitchell. Part of me expected her to throw it in his face, but she didn’t.

  “Did you help her go?” she asked.

  “What?”

  “You heard me, Mitchell. Answer the question. If you an
swer it, it’ll be okay. We just need to protect the mission. No one will get hurt.”

  He shook his head and looked at his feet. “I woke up, and she was gone. That’s all.”

  “Where would she go?”

  He shrugged without looking up. “Back to the house, maybe? Her mother’s? If she didn’t take a car, I don’t really know. I love the woman, but she’s not a hiker. Doesn’t even like camping. The idea that she just took off….”

  “It’s a little hard to swallow,” I said. Silence filled the air between us. I decided to down a cup of brew and take Sidney’s place in the forest.

  “They went east, Joe and Ratner,” she said as I opened the back door. “Davey’s headed west or northwest. Pick a direction and go. Keep your eyes open.”

  “Will do.”

  I really thought I’d just go out and look for her, but I found some things that really bugged me. Maybe I should go ahead and get into it, but I’m tired and Ratner keeps shouting. Mitchell’s still crying, and I can’t concentrate. I’ll get it down tomorrow.

  Good night.

  August 21st

  I need to explain what I found in the forest, but I also need to talk about last night and what happened between Ratner and Mitchell. The rest of us are partly responsible, I guess. We let it happen. There’s just this anxiety and a good chunk of paranoia. What if Renee tells the authorities? Do we need to bug out? A fair amount of variables, and variables create stress.

  “Where did she go? Where did she go, Mitchell?” Ratner kept saying it over and over again, getting louder each time. He stalked in circles around the chair where Mitchell sat, leering in for emphasis now and then. Something in his eyes burned. More than anger, it was a bright and broken thing, like his brain had cracked and caught fire.

  For his part, Mitchell did his best to not look scared. His act wasn’t very convincing. “I already told—”

  “Where did she go?”

  “I don’t—”

  “Where did she go, Mitchell?”

  Davey stood at the back door, watching with narrowed eyes. Sidney stayed in the kitchen, pretending she was working on something. I’d watched her get steadily more agitated as Ratner worked his mantra, though. I think he was getting to her more than Mitchell. During any instant of silence, I listened for Joe’s footsteps outside. I trusted him, but what I’d found in the woods had me spooked.

  “Where did she go?”

  “Dude, sit down and breathe,” Davey said. His voice sounded tired. “Even if he knows, he isn’t going to tell. Just sit down and relax. We’ll sort our next move here in a bit.”

  “Where did she go, Mitchell?”

  Ratner dove on the guy before any of us could realize he was moving. Both men crashed to the floor, cracking the wooden chair beneath their weight, and Ratner took hold of Mitchell’s throat. He stopped using words and just screamed in short, mad bleats. With each exclamation, he shook Mitchell by the neck. I ran to stop him, and I heard Mitchell’s head bounce off the floor before I could reach them.

  As I climbed onto Ratner’s back and tried to wrestle him loose, I heard a harsh sound that was almost a cluck from Mitchell. He wasn’t getting so much as a gasp of air. Ratner kept shaking him, and his body felt hard as stone as I wrapped my arms around him. Mitchell’s skull bounced off the floor again. I watched his eyes roll back in his head and his body go limp, and that just made Ratner throttle him harder.

  Davey’s arms joined mine, and together we finally ripped Ratner free of the comatose body he was strangling. With each of us wrestling an arm, we dragged him toward the kitchen. He kept screaming, violent bursts of random sound filling the cabin. I lost control of his left arm, and he threw a fist over his right shoulder, barely missing Davey’s temple. As Sidney rushed past us to check on Mitchell, I fought to grab hold of Ratner’s arm again. Trying to control a fire hose was probably easier.

  Sidney crouched beside Mitchell, taking his face in her hands, and we rushed Ratner out the back door. I’d known the man for years, considered him one of my better friends, but I’d never seen his temper explode like this.

  “Easy,” Davey said.

  Joe ran around the cabin’s corner, rifle butt hard against his shoulder, and stopped short when he saw us. “What in hell…?”

  “Easy, dude. C’mon. Ratner, listen to my voice and chill out.”

  It took time, but Ratner’s breathing did ease from shouts and screams and gulps to labored huffs and then finally slow, even breaths.

  “You okay?” I asked.

  He nodded. “I’m fine. Just…just a lot of shit in my head right now.”

  “We all got that. Gotta keep cool, right?”

  “He never should have brought his wife.”

  “I know. He fucked up. All we can—”

  “He never should have brought his wife.” This time, he didn’t wait around for me to say something. With a disgusted shake of his head, he pushed through us and walked into the woods. I started after him, but Davey gave my shoulder a squeeze and stopped me.

  “Just give him some time.”

  I nodded, but Davey hadn’t seen what I’d seen out there. He didn’t know.

  Guess I can talk about what was in the woods now. Ratner came back after twenty minutes, and Sidney said Mitchell’s got a minor concussion and should be okay. Hell, Ratner even apologized. Nothing’s really solved, since Renee’s still missing and we don’t know our next move, but the lid’s been put back in place. I guess that counts for something. Maybe not progress, but a holding pattern.

  So, the woods. When I left the cabin, I headed south, which took me deeper into the valley. I had my eyes peeled and my pistol in hand. Not sure if I was afraid of stumbling across police or agents or what. Maybe I thought I could solve the Renee situation if I came across her. I don’t like admitting it, but she was a liability, and a single bullet to the back of her head would solve a lot of problems. Yeah, that’s a real mercenary way of looking at it, but both sides take casualties in a war. Sooner or later, that’s a fact you just have to accept.

  The deeper I trudged into the valley, the darker everything became. Full trees choked out most of the sunlight, and the slopes of the hills surrounding me took care of almost all the rest. Soon, the air around me was humid but cool, almost cold. Several times, I nearly tumbled down the hill’s steep grade, only a last second grab at a tree stopping me. If Renee had been anywhere nearby, she would have heard me.

  By the time I reached the valley floor, I was almost out of breath. My pulse beat in my skull, and I tucked the pistol into my waistband so I could rub both temples while I leaned against the nearest trunk. Looking up the hill, I couldn’t think of anything but how much that walk back was going to suck.

  Once my breathing and heart rate slowed to their normal pace, I examined the valley, looking for some sign Renee had passed. There were no footprints in the old foliage or snapped branches, no trace of Renee. Or there were and I couldn’t find them. I saw trees and a cover of leaves in various stages of rot, some thick tangles of underbrush. That’s it. Searching for clues only pointed out that I was no tracker.

  With nothing else to do, I picked a direction (left) and started moving. My shirt was cold and damp against my back, and that kept my nerves twitching. I tried to move as quietly as possible, but my footsteps were the only thing I could hear. The shifting of old leaves filled my head, a whisper that dug deeper and deeper.

  I’m not sure how long I traveled down the valley before I saw the shack. It didn’t feel like that long, but it’s hard to tell without the sun. And it was twilight before I reached the cabin again.

  A part of me wanted to call the crumbling wooden structure I found a cabin, but it was barely as large as a backyard storage shed. It stood about fifty feet up the opposite hillside on a tiny patch of even ground. Boards that had faded to an ash gray clung to each other desperately. There was no door or windows, just an opening lined with splinters like teeth.

  I ducked behind a tree
and peered around the trunk, examining the shack from a distance. If Renee had made a break for it, would she see that wooden structure and hole up? Maybe she would, but maybe she’d just set some kind of trap and keep going. The thought almost made me chuckle. Like Renee had shown she could set even the most simple of traps. As far as I can tell, she lacks even the most basic of survival skills, and the way she balked at Mitchell’s sudden reveal told me he hadn’t bothered teaching her any.

  Counting to thirty, I continued watching the shed. When I reached my magic number with no sign of Renee or anyone else, I stepped out from behind the tree and approached. I kept my weapon ready. The slightest sign of movement, and I would put it down. Maybe I didn’t realize it at the time, but I do now. My nerves were stretched thin as fishing line. We’d done a good and thorough job of scouting the locations of our safe houses. How had anyone missed something like a shack? It was a careless thing, and it made me wonder what else had been missed.

  A heavy stillness surrounded me as I crept closer to the shack, like the forest was holding its breath. Even my footsteps were silent, and I’m not exactly an expert when it comes to stealth. Maybe it was my senses playing tricks on me or my thoughts being too loud. Something like that.

  I reached the shack without seeing so much as a hint that anyone was inside. With my back plastered to the outside wall, I threw a quick glance inside. After a second look, I decided the place was deserted and entered.

  Really, I don’t know what I was expecting. The place was tiny. To the left of the doorway, a thin mattress that had probably been ripped off a cot filled the dirt floor. A small dresser sporting three drawers stood across from the entrance, and I tried to imagine someone wrestling actual furniture into the valley. It maybe should have given me a chuckle, but instead it just left me confused. Leaves had blown in, dusting both the mattress and the ground. The shack looked like it had been abandoned for some time, months at the very least. A thick layer of dust coated the dresser, and the leaves had clogged the space beneath it.