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Charming Lily

Page 15

by Fern Michaels


  Now that he had come full circle and back to his starting point, he realized he wasn’t quite as confident as he’d been earlier in the morning. A yoke of worry settled itself on his shoulders as he entered the building he thought he would never see again. He walked back outside almost immediately and around to the back of the building, to see which second-floor windows had been boarded over. His shoulders slumped even further when he realized he would have to be a trapeze artist to climb out of the window, assuming he could even get it open, and then somehow climb up to the steep roof. An impossible feat, even if he was fifteen years younger and ten pounds lighter.

  “Shit!”

  Back inside the building, with the door hanging open behind him for light, he viewed all the roasted, toasted bats from yesterday. His eye fell on one of the bats still flopping around, whose mouth was foaming. So they were rabid after all. Now he didn’t feel so bad about the fire. He turned to run, but one of his knitted socks snagged on a splinter just as he came down hard on the ball of his foot. He yelled in pain as the splinter gouged through the socks into the middle of his foot. One eye on his foot, his other eye on the flopping bat that was way too close, he ran, dragging his injured foot behind him. He had the good sense to slam the door shut before he dropped to his knees in the little clearing outside the building.

  He hated the sight of blood, especially his own. He yanked at the large, rough splinter and then pulled off his socks completely, forgetting the blisters on his heels and toes. He screamed in agony as blood poured from his foot. His clenched fists pounded the ground in front of him. Now what was he supposed to do?

  Get off your ass and do something. He looked at his foot, trying to see if there were any more splinters in the open wound. He’d come down hard on his foot, and the wood spike had gone through the three layers of his wool sock and into the fleshy part of his instep. He wanted to touch the wound, to try and squeeze it to see if any tiny splinters were gouged in the flesh, but his hands were black with the sticky resin from the pine boughs. He sure as hell didn’t need an infection. Lily had said survival was basically common sense. She’d left out the word knowledge. He closed his eyes as he tried to remember what if anything he had learned when he’d taken the course with the other top executives. No one had punctured their foot. He’d gotten poison sumac, and he now knew what those leaves looked like. He itched just thinking of the experience. He’d never touch one of those vines again. Maybe mud. Somewhere he’d learned that if you packed wet mud around a bee sting, the swelling would go down and the stinger would come out when the mud was washed away. What would mud do for an open wound? Maybe leaves on the wound and then the mud and the sock. He was going to have to go back into the house and go upstairs to get more socks from the window seat Then how was he going to find some mud? The ground was just short of being frozen, there was no water, and he had nothing to dig with but his hands. The leaves, if he could find leaves, would have to do. He was pleased to see the blood was starting to clot. He also knew that the wound would open up the minute he started to walk on it.

  Maybe it was time to throw this one out to the universe, too. He did, and didn’t feel one bit better.

  Matt woke and looked around. He knew the day was going to come very soon when he would start to hate the smell of pine. At Christmas he’d have to get an artificial tree. He moved gingerly, shrugging off the pine boughs he’d broken off yesterday. He must have slept a very long time. The sun was just now creeping over the horizon. That had to mean it was around six or seven o’clock, more likely seven. Something was wrong. He didn’t feel right. Then he allowed himself to feel his foot throb. He was warm and incredibly thirsty. Where could he possibly get water where no water existed? Lily would know. Sadie would know. He looked around and felt pleased with himself when he saw the heavy dew on the scraggly bushes. He crawled around, licking as many leaves as he could. It took thirty minutes of licking before his thirst was quenched. He felt proud of himself. He hoped the day would come when he could tell Lily what he’d done. He could picture her smile, see her beam with pride that he’d remembered something from the wilderness journey they’d taken together.

  Matt stared around the clearing. He knew the direction he’d come in on because he’d broken and trampled the brush. Which direction should he go now? He tried to look beyond the tops of the pine trees but it didn’t help. He had to choose a direction and start out.

  He hobbled inside, careful to steer clear of the flopping bat, and made his way upstairs. He reached in blindly, his eyes on the eaves as he grabbed as many pairs of socks as he could. The trip down the steps was agony. His breath exploded in a loud swoosh of sound the minute he was outside with the door closed behind him. With the clean socks on his feet, the decision not to wear the Wellingtons was easy. He would take them with him, though, because sooner or later the bottoms of the socks would wear through.

  Matt started off, choosing to go west. He didn’t know why. An hour into the trek he started to feel uncomfortably warm, and his chest felt heavy. He opened the quilted jacket. The boots were heavy. He thought about leaving them behind, but Lily’s words about common sense demanded he carry them. Walking was becoming more difficult even though he was basically walking on his right heel and more or less dragging it along. He tried to ignore the pain.

  It was midafternoon when he realized the terrain had changed. The ground was less hard, more springy. Maybe that meant he was near water. Or maybe it meant it had rained in this section of the woods. The trees were a little more sparse, the undergrowth considerably lighter. He could actually see ahead of him for sections at a time.

  It was time to stop. His right leg refused to function, and he was starting to ache all over. He was coughing, too. He couldn’t carry the jacket and boots any longer.

  He looked for a place to stop for the day. Maybe if he slept for an hour or so he would be able to walk another hour, possibly two before total darkness. It had become fairly routine, yanking at the scrub pine and breaking off the branches, layering the ground and then breaking off another layer of pine boughs to cover himself. He sank down on the ground, grateful for the softness of the pine boughs. As his eyes started to close, he wondered if he had a fever. He wanted to touch his forehead the way his mother used to do when he was little, but sleep overcame him before he could do it.

  Help was on the way, but it was long hours away.

  A light drizzle was falling as Lily led the parade out to the Rover. She carefully stored their gear and the dogs in the deep cargo hold. Sadie took the front passenger seat, while Dennis climbed into the back.

  “I can find my way to Highway 61. I can put us in the general proximity of where we want to go. From there you’ll have to direct me, Sadie. There’s a map light on your right.” She turned to look at Dennis. “This could well be a wild-goose chase, Dennis. If Sadie and I decide that’s the case, then we’re heading back, and I’m going to the police. Make sure you understand that. I don’t care about Digitech stock taking a nose-dive or Marcus Collins or even you at this moment. Matt’s been out there seven days. That’s an entire week. I don’t know if he has water or food. I’m hoping he does, but if he doesn’t, he isn’t equipped to handle an experience like this. The weather alone could do him in. I’m not selling him short, I’m telling you like it is. Do you understand, Dennis?”

  “Yes I do, and I agree. Let’s just hope for the best.”

  They rode in silence, sipping on coffee they’d picked up at the twenty-four-hour convenience store. It was full light when Sadie said, “Slow down, Lily. This is as far as you can take the truck according to the map. There might be another way in, but it’s not on this map. Normally there is a front end and a back end. I imagine if this place has been deserted for a long time, the back end has overgrown. This looks like a fairly current map. Let’s rock and roll, people.”

  “I’m sorry, Dennis, but since you weigh in at 180, you have the heaviest backpack. Remember what I said about carrying a third of y
our body weight. That’s why. I gave you the climbing gear, the stove, the spikes, and the flare guns. Sadie and I will take the dogs and our own gear. Let’s go. It’s at least an hour’s walk to that abandoned hunting lodge. Don’t talk, conserve your energy. Pay attention to the ground. I’ll notch the trees as we go along. Let’s go.”

  An hour and twenty minutes later, the hunting party ground to a halt near the abandoned hunting lodge. Lily stooped down to her haunches and slid her backpack to the ground, sighing with relief. Dennis did the same, then sprawled on his back. To Lily’s eye, he looked a pale green. “You’re out of condition, Dennis.”

  “I was never in condition. Walking up and down the halls at Digitech was my only exercise. I see now where that has to change. I’m okay, I can handle this. If you can do it, I can do it. I might not do it as well, but, by God, I’ll do it. Now what?” he gasped.

  “We check out the building, then make a decision,” Lily said. “Easy Gracie, easy. Buzz, calm down. Stay,” she said firmly. Both dogs sat back on their haunches, their eyes on Lily. “I’m almost afraid to open the door,” she said tightly.

  “I’ll open it,” Sadie said. Dennis was on his feet a second later, crowding Lily out of the way to stand next to Sadie, who reached down, turned the knob and then kicked the door wide open.

  Gracie gave a mighty lunge and jerked free of Lily’s hold. Buzz followed and both dogs bounded into the dark building.

  “Stay back. Lily, call the dogs! Do it now! This place is full of dead bats and some live ones as well. I can see foam on one of their mouths. God, I’ve never seen anything like this. Someone must have built a fire, and they were nesting inside the chimney. There are hundreds of them.” Gracie threw back her head and howled as Lily struggled to pull her backward.

  “I’ll wait out here with the dogs. See if there are any signs that Matt was here.”

  It was nine-thirty by Lily’s watch when Sadie and Dennis exited the deserted building. “Well?”

  “Someone was here. The ashes are cool, but not cold. The fire was recent, within the past few days. Like I said, there are hundreds of dead bats in there. A bunch of live ones too, up in the eaves. There’s a second floor. The top of the window seat was open, and there’s stuff in it, old clothes mostly. Large in size. There’s no food, no sign of food or water anywhere, and there’s no furniture either. Most all the windows have been boarded up. That’s it, Lily. I think, and this is just my opinion, if more than one person had been here, there would have been a sign. There’s nothing. If they left Matt here, he’s gone. Gracie would know. Do you want to trust her in there with those bats?”

  “No. I’d let her loose, but I’m afraid she’ll run off. We’d never be able to keep up with her. I’ll loosen the leash and see what she does.”

  The retractable leash allowed the shepherd to move forward to the edge of the small clearing where the underbrush was the lightest. She barked furiously as she nosed the ground and pawed at it. When she made a mighty lunge forward, Lily fell to her knees, Gracie dragging her forward in her frenzy. When she backed out of the tangled vines, Lily’s jaw dropped at what she held in her mouth.

  “What is that?” Sadie screamed.

  “It looks like a sock. Let me see, Gracie. Easy girl, I just want to look. It’s a sock all right. Actually, it looks like it’s four socks all in one. And there’s blood all over it, along with a bunch of splinters. The sock was in a layer of pine boughs. Matt made himself a bed. That’s good, he’s thinking. He did pay attention after all,” she said quietly.

  “You might want to take a look at this,” Dennis said, holding up a sharp, thin sliver of wood with blood on the end.

  “You don’t need to be a genius to figure this one out,” Sadie said. “Remember that spell you had with those green boots? They were probably too big and Matt put on extra socks from that window seat upstairs. He probably got blisters and took the boots off and got the splinter in his foot.”

  “When? Before or after? If he had the boots, why didn’t he leave?” Lily demanded.

  “I don’t know. It’s just a thought. Maybe he got bitten by one of the bats and is disoriented. It’s possible, Lily, so don’t look at me like that. I hope it didn’t happen. Why don’t you try yanking that pendant again. Maybe something will come to you,” Sadie mumbled.

  “I’ve been doing just that since last night.” She gave the Wish Keeper a hard tug, but nothing happened. “See?”

  “It’s starting to rain harder,” Dennis said, pulling the hood on his jacket up over his head. The girls did likewise. “We need to find some cover.”

  Lily led the way to the edge of the forest and waited for the others. Gracie sat patiently, the sock firmly between her teeth, Buzz at her side.

  “We have to decide which way he went. The only thing we know for certain is, he slept out here, but we don’t really know if it was just last night or the night before. The pine boughs are very fresh. He could have slept here as many as three days. This is just a guess on my part, but I think he set out, went round in circles, and ended up back here. This looks like the brush has been trampled, and that would be south. But it’s trampled coming in, not going out. So we don’t want to go that way. If he took another direction to leave the first time, the heavy dew made everything spring upward. Or else he was extremely careful, which isn’t like Matt. He can be like a bull in a china shop. We’ve got north, east, and west left. I say we split up. Divvy up the flares, Sadie.” She spread the map open on the ground. She marked off the areas the three of them would cover. We’ll search till two o’clock and meet here,” she said, putting a large red X on the three maps Dennis had photocopied the night before. It will take us roughly an hour from all three directions to get to the X, and that will give us enough daylight time to make camp. The forest is pretty thick but the rain is still going to come down, and that’s going to slow us down. If anything goes awry, shoot off your flare. Any questions? Okay, Dennis, you take Buzz. He’s very good in the woods. Buzz will always know how to find me. Sadie, are you okay with this?”

  “Sure. See you at three o’clock.”

  “Okay, Gracie, let’s go find Matt.”

  Matt woke and struggled to curl into a ball. He tried to bring his knees up to his chest, but his right leg was too stiff. He knew he had a problem the moment he pulled up his pant leg. An angry red streak was crawling up the inside of his leg. Blood poisoning. He tried to remember the last time he’d had a tetanus shot. Years and years ago. He knew he needed some very strong antibiotics. He wished he was part-Indian so he would know which leaves would work to draw out the poison. For all he knew the ones he’d wrapped around his foot could be making the condition worse. He couldn’t ever remember feeling as bad as he felt at that moment. He knew he had a fever, and every time he took a breath he coughed. His chest felt like it was on fire.

  It was still light out. He had to move, and he had to move now. Lily’s words echoed inside his head. The worst thing you can do is stay put. Move, always move, don’t wait. Waiting for someone or something can get you dead. Move. Crawl if you have to, but keep moving. He moved, on his hands and knees. His stomach rumbled, and he needed water. He noticed then that it was raining. Thank you, God. Rain meant he could stand still with his mouth open. He would also get chilled and develop pneumonia. Like there was really something he could do about that. He was sick. He knew it and also knew there was nothing he could do to help himself except to pray and keep moving. He wished he wasn’t so hungry. He wished so many things. He wished he was a little boy playing outside with Dennis just waiting for his mother to call him in to supper. On Thursday nights she always made chicken with stuffing. Dennis liked the stuffing better than the chicken. His mother always made cherry cobbler on Thursdays, too. His mouth watered. Bread-baking day was Wednesdays. The house always smelled so good, especially in the winter. A late-afternoon snack for Dennis and himself on bread-baking day was a thick slice of bread with a scoop of yellow butter and his mother’s st
rawberry preserves. His mother would always keep track of which one got the heel of the loaf since it was the favorite slice for both Dennis and Matt. On rare occasions, she would slice off both ends and present them with a huge smile and a big hug. He wondered if Lily would ever make bread and jam. He made a mental note to ask her. Lily. Please, God, let me see her again. I’ll do whatever You want me to do, he thought.

  Get off your ass and move. Charming Lily, my ass. Tough-as-nails Lily was more like it. But only when she had to be tough. Most times she was soft and warm. Her smile could light a room and his heart at the same time. Just because a bird can eat berries doesn’t mean a person can eat them. Remember that. There weren’t any berries at this time of year anyway. His stomach continued to growl. He looked around for the stick he’d been chewing on. He bit down on it. A far cry from fresh homemade bread and strawberry jam.

  Matt felt the rain trickling down inside the quilted jacket. For a brief moment it felt cool and wonderful. Then he started to shake. Move. Keep moving. Look for cover. What did that mean? Move and look for cover. Should he find a spot to get out of the rain or should he keep moving? How could he do both? Just the thought of breaking off more pine boughs and making a new bed made him dizzy. He knew he didn’t have the strength to jump up and pull down a branch, much less try to break it off.

  It was raining harder, and before long it would be dark. His feet were cold and wet, time to put the Wellingtons on. He struggled to get them on over his soaking wet wool socks. If he lived through this, he was never going to wear shoes or socks again. Never. He felt his forehead. It was hot. Not warm but hot. He checked the red streak going up his leg. “Mom,” he said in a choked voice, “I need some help. I should be able to do this myself, but I can’t. Are you watching me? Am I disappointing you? I’m trying, Mom. I’m really trying. I’m going to go on until it gets totally dark. Lily said you have to keep moving. Remember that time I had my tonsils out and you rocked me on that big old rocker in the hallway. My throat hurt so bad. You kept putting those little chips of ice in my mouth and singing to me. That’s one of my best memories. You made ice cream that day in the ice-cube trays, and that night you let me suck on them. It was vanilla. I love vanilla, Mom. Listen, Mom, I don’t want you to worry about me. I’m just talking to you to make myself feel better. If you can ... you know . . . do stuff . . . that we can’t do down here, will you look out for Gracie?

 

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