by Roger Hayden
Davis then walked alongside the car, examining it in awe. “I'll be damned. This baby actually runs.” He paused and looked squarely at James. “I assume you purchased this from Bill after all?”
James shook his head and then dug into his backpack. “There was no time. Look, I have cash. I can leave you a couple thousand.”
The sheriff's eyes widened as he stepped away. “Whoa. Don't worry about that now. You’ve got get your wife. I hope you'll come back so we can talk some more about what happened.”
“I'll try,” James said, holding his open backpack.
Davis patted the side of the car and backed away. “All right. You be careful out there.”
Relief washed over James as he shifted the car into Drive. “Thanks, Sheriff.” He slammed the gas and tore out of the parking lot as the church faded into the distance. He raced past vacated homes on both sides of the desolate two-lane road, gripping the wheel tightly. He still hadn't come to terms with what had just happened. His mind was on autopilot, and all he could think about was returning to the cabin without running into any other escaped prisoners.
11
Tracks
After getting a safe distance away from Winslow, James pulled off to the side of the road. A cloud of dust rolled over the car as it idled. He had made it back in one piece; now all James had to do was hide the car until the next day. Then he and Marla could travel anywhere they wanted. James reached behind him and grabbed his backpack. Unzipping it, he pulled out some fresh T-shirts he had taken from Bill's bedroom. He felt light-headed, with the adrenaline from the shootout still rushing through his veins. The shotgun blast and the man's lifeless body collapsing with half his head intact still shook him.
James stared down the long, rural road ahead, seeing no one. If roving gangs of escaped convicts had descended upon the area, no one was safe. Larry's remote cabin, however, was far from any town and well hidden. He still wondered if he should warn them. He found a medium-sized shirt among the handful on his lap and quickly changed, pulling off his blood-stained shirt and tossing it aside.
With a glance in the rear-view mirror, he saw no one coming from the opposite direction either. He shifted the car and drove back onto the road, searching for the familiar path that led up the hill and into the woods near the cabin.
Roughly two miles ahead, James found his marker in the form of an oak tree, absent most its leaves, in the middle of an open field. Directly across the street from this site was a narrow path, shrouded in tall grass and weeds, that led to the cabin. James slowed down and turned off the road, driving across bumpy terrain again.
He followed the sand tracks and compacted grass, worn down by other vehicles, as it curved up a hill and was soon completely hidden from view. As he navigated through the forest, James looked for somewhere safe to park the car. The car coasted along at a steady pace, rocking up and down. He didn't want to get too close to the cabin and have the sound of the engine travel put Larry on alert. The safest bet was to give it a mile or two between his stopping point and the cabin. He dreaded the thought of leaving it.
He drifted off the path, driving over sticks and leaves and down a slight ridge with bushes almost covering the roof. Light raindrops tapped against the windshield as he came to a stop. He didn't know how long he had been gone. It could have been hours, whereas it felt like days. With the turn of the ignition, the car went quiet, leaving only after ticks of a still warm engine. He opened the door and stepped outside just as the raindrops increased. He had nothing to cover the car with and with its white paint, it wasn't exactly hard to see. But the chances of anyone stumbling onto the car within the next twenty-four hours were slim.
James locked and closed the door, looking up with his eyes closed, as raindrops fell against his face. The wetness from above provided a soothing relief, cleansing him of the violent spectacle he'd witnessed. Two people were dead by his hand. That he had shot them in self-defense didn't make anything better. He pushed the thought behind him and began walking, compass in hand, wearing his jacket, hat, and hiking boots as though nothing had happened. Trees shielded him a bit from the rain, but much of it still trickled through, and he was soon soaking wet.
James continued uphill and trudged across the moist ground and dead leaves. The cabin wasn't far. He reached the top of a familiar hill and the ground leveled out. Stopping against a tree to catch his breath, he noticed something unusual ahead, barely visible in the haze of drizzling rain. There was something on the ground ahead, sharp and metallic. He walked over to get a closer look, and saw a bear trap, open and set for an unsuspecting victim. Further ahead, he saw another, concealed under some bushes. Whether Larry had placed them out for a person or animal, James wasn't sure. He only knew that he needed to be extra careful for the duration of his hike home.
He arrived at the cabin just as the rain cleared up. His journey through the forest had taken a little over an hour, and for some reason, he felt no urge to rush, though he’d been gone all day. He needed the time to clear his head, if such an endeavor was even possible. He saw Larry's station wagon still parked in front of the cabin next to his wife's truck, relieved to be back. He reached the door, hesitating to open it. They'd ask all sorts of questions from him. They'd want to know what he saw and what he did. James took a deep breath, preparing himself for an inquisition, and then opened the door, ready to start lying.
Larry and Carol were sitting at the kitchen table. Marla was on the couch by the fireplace with a book. Their heads looked up in unison as he walked in; shadow stretched across the hardwood floor. Marla jumped up, thrilled. “James! You're back.” She ran over and hugged him despite his wet clothes. “Oh, you're soaked. Let me get you a towel.”
Carol was already headed toward the bathroom, way ahead of Marla. Larry remained seated, tools in hand, working on a disassembled radio.
"You get lost in the rain?" he asked.
James nodded and tried to hide his anguish. Inside the cabin, it felt like an entirely different world from the town he’d just left. Everything was quiet and peaceful. Marla lightly smacked his shoulder. "You were gone all day. Some hike!" She was playing her part well.
Larry leaned back in his chair and shifted the toothpick in his mouth. “Yeah. I sure hope you got that wanderlust out of your system. We have a big day tomorrow.”
Marla wrapped her arms around him, resting her head on his shoulder. “For now, you just rest. Carol and I are making dinner tonight.”
Carol emerged from the hallway on cue and handed James two towels. He thanked her as Marla backed away, examining him. He could tell in her expression that she noticed the unfamiliar plain blue shirt he was wearing, different from the University of Tennessee one he was wearing before he left. But it was such a minor detail, and he didn't think she'd even notice.
“So, what'd you find out there?” Larry asked, digging into the radio with some pliers. “Anything useful?”
“Is the radio not working?” James asked him in return.
“It shorted out earlier,” Carol added. “He's been working on it all day.”
Larry lowered the radio with a frustrated sigh. “Excuse me? That's quite a stretch. Try an hour or two.”
Carol spun around, facing him with her hands on her hips as they proceeded to banter back and forth. James suddenly felt Marla's warm hand upon his shoulder. He turned to see her worried eyes watching him with concern. “You look troubled.”
James opened his mouth and tried to speak, but the words wouldn't come.
Marla then took his hand and led him to the hall. “Come change and lie down before you get sick.”
Halfway to the bedroom, Larry shouted out, “We eat in an hour, so be ready.”
James waved as they entered the bedroom. Marla closed the door behind him. He tossed his hat onto the bed and began drying his hair, pacing toward the bed. Marla grabbed some clothes from the dresser. James took his backpack off and set it on the floor.
Light raindrops trickled onto the
window, the tail end of a storm that had nearly passed. James slid off his hiking boots, followed by his wet jeans and T-shirt. He could hear Larry and Carol converse about who was doing what chore in the morning, coupled with a debate over who was the better at what. James had to give it to the happy couple, they took their roles seriously.
He continued to dry himself and then changed into some pants and a fresh shirt Marla had placed out for him. For the first couple of minutes, she didn't press him on anything.
“It's been a pretty uneventful day for the most part,” she said, sitting on her side of the bed. “How about you?”
James sat down, stretching his legs out with his back propped against the baseboard. It felt great to not be walking anymore and even better to finally be out of his boots. And best of all, not having thugs wanting to kill him. He let out a sigh of relief and simply nodded without giving an answer.
“James?” Marla said, growing suspicious. She leaned closer with her face in front of his and made eye contact. “Can you talk to me now?” Her voice suddenly lowered. “Did you make it to Winslow? What did you find?”
Again, he tried to explain, but the words didn't come easy. “Just a little town with nothing in it,” he eventually said with nervous laughter. “No surprise.”
Her eyes narrowed as she studied his unsettled face. “What else?” she asked, resting her hand on his chest. “You can tell me.”
“I got us a car,” he said, jumping to the point. “It's a long story, but I helped a guy out, and... he gave me his car.”
He expected unparalleled joy from her, but her straight-faced reaction was quite the opposite. It was almost as though she didn't believe it. “Who's this someone?” she asked. “And why would he just give you a working vehicle?”
“Because I helped him,” James said.
“Doing what?” she asked, undeterred.
He grabbed her hand, startling her. “It doesn't matter. Listen to me. We're leaving tomorrow. We head straight up north, and we don't stop until we get there.” The plan made all the sense in the world, but he knew it wasn't going to be that easy. The uncertainty on Marla's face made that clear. Maybe she was getting used to Larry's cabin and the way things were.
“What are we going to tell them?” she asked, signaling to the door.
James hesitated at first. There was no easy way around it. “That we appreciate everything they've done for us, but we're moving on.”
Marla moved her hand away and lay back, staring at the ceiling. “I don't know, James. It doesn't feel right.”
“Finding this car was a miracle,” he began. “I parked it away from the cabin. We can pack tonight and leave first thing in the morning.”
Marla held a finger to her mouth, uncertain. “Okay... It's just. I can tell something is wrong. You're hiding something from me.”
James felt anger toward her indecisiveness, but starting an argument wasn't going to help their situation. He'd been through hell and back just to get the vehicle, but Marla didn't know that, nor would she. He needed her on his side. He needed them both clear-headed and united. It was the only way they were going to get through things. He spoke in the calmest voice he could muster. “It doesn't matter. We can do this.”
“We're about ready to start dinner!” Carol announced.
Marla stood up and moved toward the door. “We'll be out in a minute.”
“Don't say a word to them yet,” he told her as she walked past the dresser. “I'll talk to Larry first.”
She ran her hands through the dark hair that swept down to her shoulder, tying it in a ponytail. "Okay." She opened the door and stepped out, closing it behind her. James sat up and looked at their luggage sitting against the wall. They were really going to do it. That much was clear to him. One more night in the cabin, and they'd be off. He couldn't wait. But they had no idea what was out there or what to expect. But it was worth the risk. He had to tell himself that.
Dinner that evening was baked potatoes, dug from the garden, and Stroganoff from the food supply kits. The four of them ate quietly at the dinner table with candles lit in the middle, casting a cheerful light. Larry had shut the generator off for the evening, as was the protocol. As their utensils scraped against their plates, Marla barely said a word. James didn't feel much like speaking, but he didn't want to make it seem as if they were hiding anything either. Carol then broke the silence with an idea.
“I'd like to set up a dehydrator station out back. At least while the weather permits.”
Larry nodded as he took a bite. “Sounds good, dear.”
“Just a few stacked trays with some fruit and vegetables on it. That could make a big difference come winter.”
Marla perked up at the mere mention of the word.
“Yes. We should have set one up already,” Larry said. He drank from his canteen of water and glanced from James to Marla. “If either of you think of any ideas, feel free to share. Despite our illustrious reputations, Carol and I don't know everything.”
Marla gave a polite laugh as James smiled. “You've got it, Larry,” he said.
Seated next to James, Larry then lowered his fork and leaned in closer. “So, tell us about your little adventure today. I'd be interested to hear what you came across.”
James could feel Marla and Carol watching him. He took a long sip of water and then set his glass down, dismissing the day as largely uneventful. “Lots of beautiful woods, but nothing else.”
For the most part, Larry seemed convinced. But there was something in his tone that led James to believe he suspected more. “You didn't see anyone else? Not even from afar.”
“Not a soul,” James said, taking a bite. “Looks like we're all alone out here.”
Carol cut in with a laugh. “And that's how we like it.”
Despite looking away, James could feel Larry's stare. He wasn't going to give up that easily. “You were gone for quite a while,” he began. “We thought you might have gotten lost.”
James quickly responded, to kill any speculation. “I did for a little bit, but I got back on track. The rain actually helped cool things off.”
“We should all go for a little hike this week,” Carol suggested. “It'd be good for morale.”
Larry finally took his focus off James as he shook his head in disagreement. "We can't leave the cabin unattended. Not a chance." He scooped into his baked potato, topped with a bit of precious butter and sprinkled with chives from the garden. "You guys go if you want. I'll stay behind."
"But you know these forests better than anyone," Carol said. "It'll be no fun without you."
Larry stopped chewing and held both hands out. "The cabin can't be left unattended, dear. That's all there is too it."
"I can stay," Marla said, speaking up for the first time. "I'm not a big fan of hiking anyway." But just the opposite was true. James knew that he had to say something soon. The mounting pressure was beginning to weigh on him. Larry and Carol needed to hear the truth, or at least as much as he was willing to tell them. There was no reason the situation needed to be so sensitive. Leaving wasn’t personal.
“I did come across something today,” James said, silencing the room. He lowered his head and laughed, wiping a napkin against the corner of his mouth. “It was the strangest thing. I was just walking along...” James paused, wondering how he was going to finish what he had started, what details he was going to divulge and what he was going to omit. All they needed to know was that he found a working vehicle. The how wasn't as important. But Larry wasn't a man who dealt in generalities. He'd want to know everything.
“I came across something,” James continued to the silent room. He could practically hear them breathing as they stared, waiting for him to go on. A distant scream sounded from outside. Carol looked around the table as everyone froze.
"What was that?" she asked. A
Their faces went pale as a second scream, this one even more tortured, came from a distance but within earshot. Larry’s expression was
one of dread.
“Bear traps,” he said under his breath. “We've got company.”
Before he could say another word, a crash came through the window near the front door. Their heads spun around to see a flaming bottle roll through the cabin. A moment of shock kept them glued to their chairs, the sting of panic in the air. Another crash followed from a different window, and this time the bottle exploded into a fiery burst across the hardwood floor.
“Get up!” Larry shouted, tossing his chair behind him as he rose. He ran toward the kitchen and grabbed a fire extinguisher from under the kitchen sink. James got up and grabbed Marla's hand, staring into her eyes. “We have to get out of here, now.”
Carol rushed toward her bedroom, kicking the first bottle out of the way as it rolled away, flames rising from the rag stuffed inside. The room smelled of kerosene and fire, a crude Molotov cocktail. Larry ran between them dousing the spreading flames, trying his best to put out the fire. Though no one knew who was attacking them or why, James feared the worst. "No," he said, pulling Marla close. "It's impossible."
"What is it?" she asked. Without warning a third Molotov cocktail launched through the window, exploding on the kitchen table. Larry circled the living room, overwhelmed and spraying the fire extinguisher. Carol reemerged with a loaded rifle in one hand and two pistols in the other. She halted halfway, shocked to see the flames spreading throughout their living room and kitchen. Larry urged her to stay back as he struggled with the increasing fire. James pulled Marla toward the hallway, watching the chaotic scene unfold.
“Where are we going?” Marla asked in a panicked tone.
He stopped and whipped his head around, eyes widened. “Get your stuff, and let's get out of here.”
He continued down the hall, pulling her arm as she stumbled with resistance. He called out to Larry and Carol to follow them. The only way out that he knew of was the window in his and Marla's bedroom. And it was their only chance of escape.