by Aaron Mach
“Who was the man you were with? Real easy, he’s dead anyway, so no harm no foul right?”
Marie just couldn’t give up Jack’s name. There was a connection between them. The time they had together was so short but it had been so long since she was able to connect with anyone, let alone a man. The thought of him lying out there in the cold woods alone, and the thought of his lifeless body lying sprawled out broke her right there. The sobs came flowing out of her in waves.
“Now now, it was a really easy question. A name.” Arch was beginning to lose patience. The day was going long and the bourbon was going to his head. Between last night’s alcohol fueled drug binge, offing a couple locals, and now torturing this woman, he was beginning to feel the exhaustion.
“Soon my patience will be gone and I’m going to ask you one final time. What was the name of the man-you-were-with?” A moment passed and Arch nodded to the middle-aged thug. On the workbench was an assortment of tools all very capable of inflicting bodily harm. The short man picked up a pair of surgical scissors and handed them to Arch.
“Do you know what these are?”
Marie shook her head.
“These are used to cut tendon and viscera, very sharp. But you know what it’s not designed for? Little fingers. Do you want to make a bet? I bet that these scissors could take your pinky finger right off, in one chop. Okay? Let’s try, here with go.” Arch had an expression like a doctor about to tend to a patient afraid of needles. Caring and kind in the eyes, but his intention was not bedside manor, only the opposite. As the cold of the surgical instrument touched her skin and the pressure from the blades sank deeper into the skin she yelled, “Wait!” Arch pulled back and cupped his hand around his ear in order to demonstrate his willingness to hear the answer he wanted.
“Jack.”
“Just Jack? Was he a stage performer? He needed only the one name?”
“Jackson McAulle you son of a bitch!”
“McAulle huh, could have sworn I heard that before. Well, not to worry, we are done here. I’m going to go lay down, all of this torturing has taken it right out of me,” as he outstretched his arms and faked a big obnoxious yawn.
“You just sit right there and don’t move, we’ll uh, let you go in a little while,” and he began to laugh as he said this. His men also began to laugh as they walked out of the shed. On their way out they turned off the light and darkness filled room. Marie sat there with sorrowful sobs, as she didn’t have the energy to fully express her sadness. “Jack,” she cried under her breath, “where are you?”
…
“It’s me.”
“Tell me you got it all.”
“She didn’t tell anyone.”
“And the name?”
“Jackson McAulle.”
“Shit!”
“He’s taken care of.”
“Did you see it happen?”
“No.”
“Then it didn’t.”
XXII
Finally reaching the ground, Jack collapsed on his hands and knees and turned to land on his backside. He inched himself over to the wall of the cliff face and leaned his head back. Waves of nausea flooded him, as he was in a state of pure exhaustion. He hadn’t eaten anything in several hours, and his mouth was like cotton from dehydration. The cuts and slashes he sustained during the fight were drying up quickly and they seemed to have stopped bleeding. He crawled over to a nearby tree to retrieve the pistols he stashed so he wouldn’t have to climb with their weight. Leaning now against the tree and finally regaining his breath, “Marie.” How was she going to get her back? Dreadful thoughts entered his mind as his imagination began to run with all the possibilities of what they were doing to her. He winced at the thought, trying to maintain control of his mind. Trying to stay focused on what he had to do.
He gathered himself up and began to make his way back to the cabin. The river roared next to him and his exhaustion was beginning to enter his bones. The pace he set was slowing and eventually he could not move another inch. The darkness was entering into the corner of his eyes and the weapons he carried became heavier and heavier as he dropped them to his side. Falling flat on his face, the pain was dulled by his encroaching unconsciousness. Through his dreams he could hear the howling of some wild thing echoing through his mind, and a vision of the black wolf appeared. The wolf was running through the woods, dodging trees and leaping over creeks. There seemed to be nothing that would slow this beast. Fading in and out of his thoughts were the images of his father holding his shoulder, and through that a sense of regret and guilt on his behalf. The wolf continued to howl into the night, louder and louder, closer and closer. His body began to move and convulse. He opened his eyes and realized that large black beast was nudging his body in an effort to wake him. Jack immediately leaped to his feet and eyed the shotgun sitting four feet from him. The wolf jumped up on a large boulder and stood there on his haunches, staring intently into Jack’s eyes. In that moment there was a howl so loud that Jack stumbled back, plunging his feet into the icy glacier river. A moment later the wolf left, running through the darkness of the woods until there was no more movement and it was gone. Jack shook his head in disbelief. Did that really happen? Jack knelt down into the river and splashed the water into his face, taking hearty gulps of the fresh water. Gathering himself with a few slaps on the face and picking up his guns, he began to walk back to the cabin. The fire was still smoldering and there were still several trout hanging over the pit. Eating his fill, he began to wonder where they took Marie. He had overheard it was a logging operation, but where? It could be anywhere in this vast wilderness.
Jack walked over to the road and found the vehicle tracks. They were still fresh and it was his best chance to find where they had taken her. He turned his head and saw the cabin was still smoldering. He was saddened to think that Eli and his entire life were destroyed for nothing. Among the black heap of ash he noticed an object glinting in the moonlight. It was difficult to see but there was definitely something there. Walking over to the cabin, he brushed away some of the debris and found Eli’s buck knife. The handle used to be made of deer bone, but now it was pure black, hardened by the fire. Grabbing it and placing it into his belt loop, he took his two pistols, placed them behind his back, and held the shotgun in a ready position to his front. Charging the shotgun and loading a shell, Jack began to walk the road in the direction of Marie.
The tracks made by the truck were clear enough even in the dark to determine where he needed to go. He just hoped that those vehicles were going to the same place they took Marie. Up ahead, Jack saw headlights turn a corner. He immediately dove into the ditch, landing on several rocks. Biting his lip to keep from yelling out in pain, the truck moved right on past him. It was one of the same vehicles that picked up Marie. There were so many of the same with the identical logo, “GRIMES LOGGING.” It’s a start, he thought. Standing up in the ditch, he continued to follow it on the chance another truck came through or the other one decided to return. He turned on the same direction as the truck and continued on that road for what seemed like miles. Ahead he could see a massive compound. Jack moved up into the trees away from the ditch and continued to move up the hill to get a better vantage point. In the light of the coming dawn where visibility was still low, he would be able to remain undetected.
…
The Grimes Logging work truck made the trek back to the cabin.
“So this guy’s not dead?”
“Not sure man, the boss said to check for a body, so we’re gonna check for a body,” said Fred.
The truck pulled up to the rubble of the cabin that was once an oasis for a lonely old man.
“I don’t see anything, still too dark.”
“Get the damn flashlights out of the glove compartment.” The worker came back from the truck and handed Fred the flashlight, and they began to scan the area for any signs of Jack.
“What the hell we looking for anyway?”
“His body you
nitwit, we’ve been over this,” replied Fred, frustrated. Fred was no genius, Arch was adamant about making sure he knew this, but he was a league above his degenerate co-workers. They began to make their way to the creek and spread out, continuing downhill in the hopes of finding some evidence.
“We should have seen something by now.”
“You know, for once, you are actually right,” replied Fred. “Arch said they had the guy cornered right up there where the creek meets the cabin, there were shells everywhere, but I still see no sign.”
The men continued down the hill and came upon a horrific scene.
“Holy shit!”
“Damn.”
Their extremely overweight co-worker was laid prostrate with his face in the mud and his insides all over the trees. The sight made Fred want to throw up. “Been seeing too much of this shit lately, man.”
The worker nodded while staring at the scene in disbelief.
“Boss?” Fred called on the radio.
“Yeah.” Arch replied immediately with a yawn.
“Found him.”
“Who?”
“Nate.”
“Who?”
“One of the new workers, he’s dead.”
“No sign of McAulle?”
“None that we’ve seen, should we keep looking?”
“No, get back right now!”
The two ran up the hill back to the truck and sped off down the road toward the compound.
…
Jack heard an alarm burst through the entire camp. The people throughout the compound began moving around in a feverish pace. He was about two hundred meters away hiding behind a dirt mound surrounded by trees, but he could make out Arch standing on a truck with a loudspeaker.
“We have someone coming! Stop the work, grab the weapons from the lockers, I want everyone standing post right fucking now! His name is Jackson McAulle, and I want him dead! Do you hear me!? Dead!”
Damn, thought Jack, so much for the element of surprise. Twenty maybe thirty men all armed with various weapons, pistols, shotgun, rifles. In that moment he heard the truck that passed him earlier approaching. It must have gone to check if he had actually been killed. Taking a chance, he put dirt on his face and left his guns behind except for one of the small pistols. He placed it behind his back and covered it with his shirt. This is going to be really stupid, he thought. As the truck approached, and the remaining darkness on his side, he ran to the road and began to wave his arms up and down in a sign of distress. The truck approached and was not slowing down, they recognize me, shit, just stay strong Jack.
“Help!” Jack cried as the truck finally began to slow down. The trucks headlights were still on high beams and the light would help Jack to remain undetected.
“Help, oh God help, I’ve been lost in the woods.” Jack cried, man I should get an Oscar for this.
“Get the fuck out of the road man!”
“I need your help, please!”
Jack approached the driver side of the truck. Merely feet away from being able to grab him, “Please help me, sir,” Jack repeated.
“Shit, alright man.”
Jack approached and Fred was within his grasp. In that moment he grabbed his pistol from his pants and cold cocked Fred in the nose. The passenger immediately began firing through the windshield and was a horrible shot. Several shots rang out and Jack hit the dirt, crawling to the rear of the vehicle.
“Come out man, this ain’t gonna hurt one bit.”
Jack stayed low but wasn’t able to get a clean shot as the rounds continued to come in his direction throwing up rock and debris in his face. The passenger stood up on the bed of the truck and stood over Jack. The pistol was drawn right down on Jack’s face. Not like this, thought Jack, the nightmare of his failure was flashing before his eyes. How foolish had I been to think I could do this after all these years.
“See ya pal!”
A shot rang out and Jack braced himself for the other side. Eyes clenched, he heard something land right next to him. Opening one eye to see, he looked, the passenger’s face had gaping eyes and a mouth wide open. Above his right eye was a hole and the man lay there lifeless. He sat upright and laid his back against the rear wheel of the truck. Looking across the ditch in the dim light he could see someone approaching through the trees. The figure was slinging his rifle over his shoulder and walking carefully through the brush. Jack noticed dark hair shining in the remnants of the moonlight and the person’s walk. He recognized who it was immediately and could not believe his eyes. Stalking Wolf. Anders casually walked over and without a word came and sat next to Jack.
“Hey Jack.”
Jack continued to stare at him, “How the–what the–where did you come from?”
“Tracked you from the road. You’re not as stealthy as you used to be.”
“But–how did you even know to come find me, or why?”
“You were in a different cell block, but I caught a glimpse of you when you were leaving Deer Lodge. Didn’t even realize it was you at first. Had a feeling I needed to find you, just my gut I guess.”
“That was you at the prison? I was in a different place, didn’t even recognize you.”
“It has been awhile.”
“Nice gut, you saved my ass, again.”
“Yeah, you gotta start paying me back on these things man,” Anders said with a smile as he nudged Jack’s shoulder. “So what have you got yourself into now?”
“It’s a long story, and we don’t have the time.”
“Make it short, you want my help or not?”
“It’s not your fight, I can’t ask-”
“What we went through, don’t insult me by saying you can’t ask. We owe each other a lot. And I’m no longer employed, so I have that kind of time.”
“A man saved me out in the wilderness, some psychotic loggers told him to leave, he was stubborn and refused. Something you and I would probably do. The bastards killed him.”
“So is this a revenge thing?”
“That’s not me anymore Anders, that old man brought something out of me, showed me my humanity again. There was a woman, they took her and they are still holding her up in that compound.”
“Who is she?”
“She works for the government, been investigating this guy and I guess she got too close to the truth, not sure how long she has.”
“Are you and her, you know…”
Jack grinned, “No, but..”
“Gotcha. You certainly know how to get in trouble, you been out what, a couple weeks?”
“Story of my life, brother.”
“Well, what the hell we waiting for man, let’s get this thing done.”
Anders stood up and gave a hand to Jack, helping him to his feet.
“One more thing, these guys are amateurs but they are crazy, this guy Grimes is a sociopath and I don’t know what he is capable of. There is someone else out here, he or they killed Eli, it was done with skill. Keep an eye out.”
“You just got the one pistol?”
“Got a few more up where you came from, there’s a shotgun too.”
“What’s the plan?”
XXIII
“Get up on that tower! You! Take five guys and get in the tree line! I want another five on the girl, keep her alive!” Arch shouted through his megaphone.
Mumbling under his breath, “I want him alive to watch her die.”
Arch jumped off of the truck and threw the megaphone into the mud. He walked into his office and opened the floorboards. Never thought I would need this thing, he thought as he pulled out an M249 fully automatic machine gun. Attached were several hundred rounds linked together. Setting the beast of a weapon onto his desk, he was beginning to feel the exhaustion from his lack of sleep. He could barely handle the weight of the weapon and needed a pick-me-up. The cocaine he usually prescribed to himself wasn’t going to cut it, he needed something with a little more kick. With a smile he walked out of the office and thought t
o himself, what a wonderful excuse to dig into the good stuff. He wasn’t accustomed to its use, but he thought what better an occasion than now.
The building was discrete and set back into the woods. It was extremely large but taken care of better than any other on the compound. Surrounding the structure were large blue empty 55-gallon drums used to hold an assortment of chemicals. Several men guarded this building; it was more valuable than anything in Arch’s possession. You see the good thing about being friends with a congressman and doing their dirty work meant you could operate under the radar. What better activity to do under the radar than massive production of street grade methamphetamines? Arch walked into the building and was greeted by nervous and trigger happy guards. “Relax, its just one guy, consider it practice.” The men laughed nervously, as they found comfort in their bosses’ confidence. Inside of the building was an enormous structure with glass vials and beakers, large containers with temperature gauges and at least a dozen men in black rubber protective aprons and gloves. There were metal walkways all along the ceiling where guards moved to and fro, keeping a vigilant eye on the product. Arch casually walked over to the freezer unit in the back of the large building. Inside of it contained millions of dollars worth of product. There was a small locked cabinet near the rear of the freezer that contained Arch’s personal stash. He pulled one of the glass vials already loaded and took a lighter from his pocket. Burning the concoction of chemicals within the glass ball created that blissful and aromatic smoke with which Arch brought violently into his lungs. The burning was so intense that Arch began to sweat, immediately wondering if it was too strong. But, the pain subsided and the sensation of alertness and invulnerability swept through his brain and settled quietly right behind his eyes. In that moment he knew he would be victorious and that once he killed Jack, killed the girl, and sold the meth that his worries would be no more. He laughed at this little joke of his because he knew that wouldn’t be enough. Nothing would ever be enough. For him, it was the thrill of the uncertainty that really gave him bliss. The unknowable future, and the opportunity to inflict the pain he felt on a daily basis onto others. This was his only motivation; this was what he had agreed to within himself.