The Seventh Taking: A Mountain Mystery

by BJ Bourg

  “How’re we supposed to make a fire?” Charlie asked.

  “Crap! I left the matches.” My stomach sank. I’d forgotten that small detail. Fire was necessary to keep us safe from bears and any other wild animals that might be lurking around. “If we plan to survive the night, we’re going to have to make a fire.”

  Charlie’s face turned a shade whiter. “Wait—what do you mean by survive?”

  “We have to worry about more than Leaf Creature. This place is crawling with wild animals that can kill us within seconds. Without fire, we’re defenseless. We’ll never see them coming. We could die.”

  Charlie gulped, stared wide-eyed. “How do we make fire?”

  “When I was a kid, I read that you can do it by rubbing two sticks together.”

  Charlie nodded. “Yeah, I saw it in a movie. Let’s get it done.”

  We scrambled around and gathered up leaves and tiny twigs and made a small pile at the center of the clearing. “These are all wet,” Charlie said. “There’s no way they’ll catch fire.”

  I grabbed two stout twigs and peeled away the wet bark and tested the bare wood underneath. Saturated. I began rubbing them together vigorously, hoping the friction would dry them enough to start the fire. I rubbed for probably three minutes, but it felt like fifteen. The muscles in my hands and arms burned. I stopped rubbing and touched one of the sticks to my cheek. It was barely warm.

  “Is it working?” Charlie asked.

  “Not at all.”

  “What’re we supposed to do? How’re we going to make a fire?”

  “I don’t know, Charlie. I guess we’ll have to try and make do without it.” A thought occurred to me. “Maybe it’s a good thing that we don’t have fire. If we build a fire, Leaf Creature would see us from a mile away.”

  “That’s true.” Charlie paced back and forth in the little clearing. “Okay, so we should be safe from the creature because he can’t see us, but what do we do if we’re attacked by a bear?”

  I reached into my pocket for my bear spray and yelped. “My bear spray’s gone!”

  Charlie frowned. “I lost mine when Leaf Creature was after us. I pulled it out and was going to spray him if he got close, but I dropped it somewhere on the trail.”

  My heart started to race. That can of bear spray had been a constant source of comfort as we traversed this backcountry, but I now felt naked and vulnerable. “This is it, Charlie. We’re doomed.”

  CHAPTER 10

  Within minutes, it was dark. We heard strange sounds from the surrounding forest and an occasional twig snapped in the distance. I’d been in the swamps many, many times at night, but I’d always had a flashlight and a rifle. Charlie and I had even spent the night in the swamps at least a dozen times, but we’d slept up in this ancient oak tree to keep from being eaten by alligators. Even if we could climb these giant trees, we might be safe from Leaf Creature, but we wouldn’t be safe from the black bears. Out here, there was no place to hide. We were on our own. My hands shook a bit as I pulled the rope from my rucksack. If I could tie this rope across the one opening in the briar patches, at least it might alert us if an animal or Leaf Creature tried to invade our space.

  “Charlie, bring your phone over here,” I said. “I need some light.”

  I couldn’t see Charlie. I only knew where he was from the rustling noise he made as he moved toward me. I heard him grunt and knew something was wrong.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  “My phone’s dead. It drowned in the river.”

  I pulled my phone from my pocket and fumbled with the buttons on it. Nothing lit up. I held it up in front of my face and couldn’t even see it. “Leaf Creature could be sitting in my lap and I wouldn’t be able to see it.”

  “This is scary,” Charlie said. “I’m really regretting our decision to come here. I mean, what are we supposed to tell Brett’s mom?”

  “Let’s try not to think about that.” I reached out in the dark and my hand brushed against soft clothing.

  Charlie jumped. “What was that?”

  “It was me,” I said. “I’m trying to feel the tree that was here earlier.”

  I heard Charlie stirring beside me. I then felt his hand grab my arm and guide it toward the rough bark. “Here it is.”

  “Let’s put our backs against the tree for protection.” I scooted over until my back was pressed against the tree, and I could feel Charlie sitting beside me with his back against the tree. I reached to my belt and pulled Jezebel from her sheath. “You still have the punch knife I gave you?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Get it in your hand and stand ready,” I said.

  “It’s already there, but it would be useless against a gun.”

  My brows furrowed. “It had to be human.”

  “What? That creature that killed Brett?”

  “Yeah. Animals can’t shoot guns.”

  Charlie grunted. “That makes me feel so much better—”

  Twigs snapped nearby. It seemed like a mere dozen feet away. I turned to look in the direction of the noise and then realized how futile it was.

  “What was that?” Charlie asked, his voice a whisper.

  “I’m not sure.” Jezebel felt like an extension of my hand. I clutched it with every ounce of strength in my arm. “It can’t be Leaf Creature. There’s no way it could’ve found us by now. We went too far downriver.”

  “I sure hope you’re right.”

  More twigs snapped. “You think a bear can break through all those briar bushes?”

  “How should I know?” Charlie’s voice shook.

  I tried to slow my heart rate by using the deep breathing exercises I’d used when boxing—inhaling through the nose to a slow count of five, holding for five seconds, exhaling through the mouth to a slow count of five, holding five more seconds, and then repeating. It had always worked wonders in the ring and enabled me to recover faster than my opponents between rounds. It used to always give me great confidence when I would come out at the bell for the next round breathing normally, while my opponent panted like a police canine who had tracked clear across the swamps.

  But the breathing exercises weren’t working now. My heart pounded so hard in my chest I could hear it in my ears. My breath came in labored gasps. I wasn’t ready to die. I had too many plans, too much to do.

  A distant howl somewhere to my left caused my heart to skip a beat. I felt Charlie jerk beside me.

  “That sounded like a wolf,” I said.

  Another howl came from somewhere behind us. “You think they know we’re here?” Charlie asked.

  “They shouldn’t be able to get through all those briars. I mean, we’re bigger and stronger than wolves and we can’t push our way through it.”

  “But they’re lower to the ground,” Charlie said. “They might be able to slide under the radar.” I heard Charlie move and when he spoke again his voice was up above me. “I think we need to leave this area. We’re like turtles sitting on a log. We’re completely defenseless.”

  “No, Charlie, it’s safer to stay here. We can’t see a thing.”

  Charlie’s shoes crunched against the dry leaves as he walked away from the tree.

  “Charlie, get back—”

  “Ouch!”

  I heard briars rustling and Charlie groaning. I scrambled to my hands and knees and crawled toward the sound, using my hands like antennas to feel my way forward. “Are you okay, Charlie?”

  “I tripped.”

  I crawled into him. “Are you hurt?”

  “I’ve got some spears stuck in me.” Charlie groaned with each thorn he pulled out of his skin. I wanted to help, but I couldn’t see him. I could tell by his breathing he was scared, and I knew it was up to me to be strong and keep him calm.

  “Look…we’ll be fine tonight. People camp in this backcountry all the time and they don’t get eaten by anything. We’ll stay here until daylight and then find our way back to the trail.”

  “What if we can�
�t find the trail?”

  I didn’t have an answer for him, so I simply said, “We will.”

  “And what if Leaf Creature gets us like it got Brett and probably Joy?”

  That thought of that creature putting his hands on Joy made my stomach turn. “He won’t.”

  When Charlie had removed the last of the thorns from his body, we felt our way back to the tree and resumed our positions. Every now and then I heard a low grumbling sound and I didn’t know if it was Charlie’s stomach or mine. “You hungry?” I asked.

  “Starving.”

  “Do you want to eat something now?”

  “I’d rather wait until morning. If our food attracts bears, I’d at least like to see them coming.”

  “Good idea.” I leaned the back of my head against the tree and allowed my tired eyes to slide shut. The nightly sounds coaxed me into a false sense of security and I could feel myself slipping into a much-needed slumber.

  * * *

  When I first heard the steady crunching sound, I thought I was lying in my backyard listening to Achilles—my giant German shepherd—eating his dog food. I would often feed him after my workouts and then lie on the ground to recuperate while he ate. The cool breeze blew against my cheeks, and I knew it had to be fall, which meant boxing tournaments would be in full swing soon. The crunching stopped briefly and then a twig snapped. I stirred in my sleep, turning to my side. The ground was uncomfortable, but the soothing sound of Achilles eating his food began again, and I settled into my sleeping position. After a few seconds, another branch snapped and I wondered what could be making that sound in Achilles’ dog pen.

  I suddenly bolted upright as it all came back to me—Brett being taken by Leaf Creature, the storm, the raging river, the briar patches, and us being lost. I scanned the area and when I saw the bear I started to scream, but it got stuck in my throat. The bear had stopped what he was doing and now stood staring at me with brown beady eyes. He was so close I could smell him. With the exception of his tan eyebrows and snout, his fur was black as the night we had just survived. A dark reddish liquid dripped from his snout and I wondered if it was blood.

  I realized my hands were empty and slowly felt around for Jezebel. When I found her, I gripped the handle and lifted it in front of me, pointing one of the blades at the bear. As though trying to smell my intentions, the bear tested the air with his black nose. He then reared up on his hind legs and made the most horrific noise I’d ever heard. My heart pounded in my chest so hard it hurt. The bear stood staring down at me, trying to decide what to do next.

  “What’s going on?” Charlie stirred beside me and sat up to wipe his face. When his eyes focused on the bear standing over us, he lurched to his feet and made a dash for the opening in the briar patches behind us, screaming as he ran.

  This seemed to startle the bear, as it dropped to all fours, turned, and loped off in the opposite direction. I sank against the tree and sighed, nearly peeing my pants. “Charlie,” I called halfheartedly. “It’s gone.”

  I stood on trembling legs and grabbed my rucksack. I pulled it onto my shoulders, snatched up Charlie’s bag, and set off in the direction Charlie had disappeared. Whatever energy I’d regained from a good night’s sleep had been zapped by the fear of the bear encounter. I wanted to roll up in a little ball and go back to sleep, but, instead, I trudged on, calling for Charlie as I hiked. He wouldn’t answer, and I began to fear the worst. At that moment, I felt as alone as I’d ever felt. I swallowed hard, as I tried to imagine what fate had befallen Joy. Had she truly been killed by Leaf Creature? Was she still stumbling around the mountains all alone? Or was she hiding out with her aunt?

  I didn’t know how far I walked—calling Charlie’s name every few steps—but it had to have been twenty minutes before I heard a response to my hollering.

  “Over here, Abe.”

  I stopped and looked in the direction of Charlie’s voice. Solid briar patches. “Where are you?”

  “Over here,” he said.

  I searched for a way around the prickly bushes and detected a small passageway through the thinner portion of the thickets. I shucked off my rucksack and, holding it in one hand and Charlie’s in the other, I inched sideways through the narrow lane. As I zigzagged along the passageway, I noticed globs of mushy fruit on the ground that were the same color as the dark reddish liquid I’d seen on the bear’s snout. My blood ran cold. This trail had been made by a bear. What if we encountered it?

  “Charlie, where are you?”

  “Here,” Charlie said. “I can see you.”

  I quickly traveled the last stretch of the passageway and finally broke out into a shaded clearing. Charlie had moved away from the briar patches and was standing several yards away at the edge of a rocky river.

  “Where are we?” I asked.

  “Not sure, but it’s a lot nicer than the place we stayed last night.”

  I threw Charlie’s rucksack in his direction. “If you ever leave me to carry your rucksack again, everything in it is mine.”

  “Knock yourself out. There’s nothing in it except the camera, a bottle of water, and a bag of beef jerky.”

  My thoughts quickly went to food and I remembered how hungry I was. We would need to keep our energy levels up if we planned to survive out there. I sat on a rock near the river and opened my rucksack. Two cans of peaches, a bag of beef jerky, and one bottle of water. “I guess it’ll be beef jerky and water for breakfast.”

  “Breakfast of champions.” Charlie pulled his beef jerky out of his bag, and we ate in silence, each of us lost in his own thoughts.

  Mine were on Joy and Brett and the hopelessness of our plight. It was all very surreal. We were almost out of food and completely lost. Our best bet was to follow this river and hope it would lead us to civilization. If it didn’t, we were in a world of hurt. Sooner or later, Leaf Creature would find us. I turned to Charlie. “Maybe we should preserve some of our water.”

  “There’s a lot of fresh cold water right there.” Charlie pointed to the rushing river. “We’ll never run out.”

  “We can’t drink that water. What if it’s got bacteria in it?”

  “We can boil it before we drink— Oh, we don’t have any matches.”

  “No matter. We’ll be out of here soon enough. We’ll just follow this river until we hit a trail and then follow it to civilization.”

  Charlie stood and walked to the river, chewing on a mouthful of beef jerky. “Which way do we go?”

  I joined him and studied the river to the left first and then to the right. I didn’t know what I thought I would see to help me decide which way to go, but, except for the flow of the water, everything looked the same—rocks, rushing water, and dense forestland.

  “Well, Captain? Which way do we go?”

  I shook my head. “Since we don’t know where we are, it’s hard to tell.”

  “If we go the wrong way, we could end up even deeper in the mountains and we’d be at Leaf Creature’s mercy.

  “I know…so what do we do?”

  Charlie chewed on his lower lip for several seconds and then his eyes lit up. “I’ll throw my water bottle in the air. When it lands, we’ll go in whatever direction the cap is facing.”

  “Okay,” I said. “Do it.”

  Charlie threw his bottle high into the air. It hit a low-lying branch and ricocheted off it, landing in the river with the cap facing the opposite shore.

  “That wasn’t an option,” I said.

  The bottle rocked gently in the water and began floating downriver. Charlie splashed after it and snatched it from the water. He jogged back toward me, high-stepping through the cold water. “I’ll do it again.”

  “Why don’t we just follow the flow of the river? It has to lead somewhere.”

  “Sounds good to me. That way, if we end up lost forever and die out here, it’ll be on your conscience, not mine and my bottle.”

  This river had to lead somewhere important. It looked a lot like the
river we had fallen into yesterday afternoon—except it wasn’t surrounded by massive cliffs—with its sections of violent whitewater rapids followed by long stretches of calm pools that looked cold and deep. It had the appearance of a sport river, and I almost expected to see a convoy of whitewater rafts and kayaks round the bend to our right.

  After we finished eating our beef jerky, we tucked the empty bags away and shouldered our rucksacks.

  “Here goes nothing,” I said, as we headed off down the riverbank.

  CHAPTER 11

  Although the sky was bright blue and clear, the area along the riverbank was shady and cool, which kept our sweating to a minimum. Tiny pebbles and smooth rocks lined the shores of the river and we were able to make good time. We said little as we walked. With each mile we hiked, I became more and more concerned we were heading deeper into the backcountry. When I had paced off ten miles, I stopped and turned to Charlie. “Want to take a break?”

  He shrugged and stripped off his rucksack. He seemed gloomy. “I guess so.”

  I dropped my rucksack and walked to the river so I could splash water on my face. As I knelt down on the wet sand at the river’s edge, I jumped back when a small trout darted out from under a rock and stabbed at the surface of the water a few feet in front of me. The water was crystal clear and I was able to watch the trout flash back and forth in the pool, feeding on tiny insects walking on the water. I eased my hand into the water and remained motionless until the trout made its way back toward me. When it got within inches of my hand, I raised my arm quickly and was able to hit it with the tips of my fingers, flipping it into the air. It splashed back into the water several feet away and disappeared in the deeper water.

  “Hey, Charlie,” I said, “how about some fried fish for lunch?”

  “That’s not even funny.”

  I splashed the freezing water on my face and sucked air when it hit my chest. After wiping the water from my eyes, I stood and turned to Charlie. He was lying on his back, a forearm covering his face.