by Jen Wright
"I'm John Tanner. Who can fill me in?"
Tanner was a big man of about 280 pounds. Zoey could tell that his clean-shaven, tanned face was that of a man who spent most of his time outdoors. He was soft-spoken but with an air of authority.
Scott spoke up and did a reasonable job of bringing him up to speed. Tanner pointed to the two machines following behind his and ordered everyone into the sleds for the ride back out. Ree and Zoey stayed put. A brief smile appeared on his face and then disappeared as he said, "What do you two need?"
Zoey shifted her feet a little. "We're going with you to find Jo and Sandy."
He raised his eyebrows and appeared to contemplate the situation. "And why is this a good idea?"
"Because we know them. The snow is going to prevent you from tracking them by snowmobile. We can track them on foot while you follow."
Ree piped up. "Yeah, we can." It sounded a bit ridiculous, but it was worth a try.
He bit his lip, shifted his weight slightly, and rubbed his chin while he looked the two women over. They were all standing eye to eye. "Are you the one who helped Jo take that gangster hit man down?"
Zoey stood a little straighter. "Yes."
He turned to Ree. "And you're a volunteer with the Fire Department and an EMT?"
Ree brightened, and a flicker of hope flashed in her eyes. "A doctor, actually. And I have my equipment with me. And yes, I'm trained in rescue."
With a motion of his hand toward the front sled, he added, "I can track them in the snowmobile. How do you think I got here? Let's go, and don't get in my way."
They high-fived and bounded into the sled. Zoey wondered what the heck a girl from New Mexico was doing chasing down a maniac with a gun in a blizzard and let out an involuntary laugh. She couldn't for the life of her figure out why Tanner was bringing them along. She wondered if he was asking himself the same question. Zoey had made up her mind she would follow on foot even if he didn't give them a ride. Perhaps he sensed that and didn't want to be responsible for yet another party wandering out in the storm.
A mile into the journey, the sled abruptly stopped. Tanner had drawn his gun with one hand and held out his other toward Ree and Zoey in an attempt to keep them still. Two figures emerged out of the snow and raised their hands.
Zoey hollered out, "Amanda!" The woman appeared immensely relieved to see them.
The other woman dropped to her knees and sobbed. Ree rushed out with her medical bag to help her. Tanner still had his gun drawn and turned to Zoey, saying, "You obviously know them."
"I know Amanda; I don't know who the other one is."
He squatted and gently asked the other woman her name. Through her tears, she introduced herself as Jean and relayed how she'd ended up walking away from Don and Frank, and her concern for both of them. She piqued Zoey's attention when she mentioned the "bunker" and how Jo and Sandy were planning to go in after Don.
Zoey felt a little dizzy and sat down.
Ree cast a knowing glance her way. When Ree was done assessing Jean, she indicated, "She's cold and dehydrated, but she'll be OK."
She helped Jean slowly get to her feet. "This poor woman has been marching around in knee-deep snow for half a day. It's impressive that she can still stand."
"Let's get her back and then continue." Tanner assumed they would just go along with him. Again Ree and Zoey stood their ground.
"Ladies, don't be absurd. We'll bring her to the cabin, make sure she has a ride out, and be right back at it."
"Go ahead. We'll press on, and you can pick us up on your way back."
He gave an exasperated sigh and ordered them into the sled. "Get in. I told you to stay out of my way. We're wasting time."
Neither of them wanted to chance being left back at the cabin, so they walked down the trail. They heard him mutter, "Women!" before starting up the machine, turning it around, and beginning his journey back to the cabin.
As they walked, Zoey thought of Jo's dogs Cocoa and Java. She had almost begun to think of them as "our" dogs. They were still in the cabin and would be for a long time.
"Ree, I hope our dogs are all right in your cabin for such a long time."
"I'm sure they will be. Hanna lives relatively close to us and will see to that. It's what we do. If she were out longer than us, we would do the same for her. It's all part of the deal."
Zoey was amazed at the love of this little community. Who would have thought that an area as big, spread out, and rural as Big Noise could have so many tight-knit pieces interwoven into it. She smiled and said, "Cool."
The tracks were fairly easy to follow, and the snow had begun to slow. Visibility was back to about ten feet. Zoey reached down and felt one of the tracks in front of her in hopes that it was Jo's. Ree watched her in silence.
When they started again, she sparked up a conversation. "You have it bad, don't you?"
"I have it good," she said with a smile. "I think it has me bad."
CHAPTER 29
Aaah, my bunker is just as I left it. Safe and secure. No one knows it's here, and now it will serve me well, Don thought to himself as he pushed the captive fornicator inside the stairway leading to his underground haven. The fieldstone had held up well as a foundation. Twelve inches of fieldstone and mortar, and nothing could hurt him. Not that he was afraid. He was feeling particularly strong with his rifle pointed at Frank's back.
Skinny little back, he thought to himself. What did she see in him, anyway? What could she possibly see in him?
He'd figure that out later. He was simply there to reclaim what was his. Rightfully his. He was also doing God's work. He knew for certain that this miserable sinner was doing the devil's work.
Don was going to bring justice to the world.
He saw me shoot that Deputy, so he knows what I can do to him. No, he won't be a problem.
Frank stumbled into the fifteen-by-fifteen bunker as Don flipped on the small battery-operated light. As his eyes adjusted, Don watched Frank to be sure he wasn't planning an escape.
No, he's just plain scared. He knows what he's in for. I can't believe the little weasel hasn't pissed himself already. I shouldn't have let Jean escape, but I couldn't shoot her. It's not part of the big plan. They are fornicators, and I'm going to bring them to repent to God. I need Jean to witness his repenting, though. I shouldn't have let her get away.
Don quickly ordered Frank to kneel and then hog-tied him, forcing him to lie on the dog bed in front of the woodstove. He then took his time building a fire and heating up water for coffee. Don went through all of his supplies in the pantry, and then went through them again, arranging everything perfectly. The dry goods were all in good shape. The water was partially frozen, but the container had held. There was enough to last Jean and him several months.
Jean. My Jean. She will come back to me. She will know how much I love her because of what I'm doing. How could she not? She will. She will become the woman I once loved. If she can't, then God will tell me what to do.
He stripped down to his thermal underwear and hung his clothes up on the hooks behind the woodstove and settled in for a cup of coffee.
We can have what we once had. She will again be happy to be a housewife. Eager to please. Eager to keep our home. We will have that again. I need to do this right. Everything will be all right then. Everything.
"Nothing you do will fix it, idiot. You screw everything up, anyway. The end of the world is coming. Nothing you do will keep it safe. Jean doesn't love you. Your only mission is to bring them to repent. You are the chosen one. Only you. You shouldn't have let her go."
"No, that's not true. This bunker is safe. I built it. I am stronger than they are. If I make him repent, it will all be better. I can show God that I know his way. Jean will love me." He was saying this out loud. Speaking to someone in his head. He didn't even realize that he was gesturing with the rifle and swinging it from side to side.
"You don't know. You don't know. You don't know."
A loud blast ripped through the air, sounding like a bomb in the tight space. The bullet pinged off of the stone foundation.
Damn! What have I done? Duck, the bullet is flying all over the place. Get down. Get down.
Don felt the bullet plunge into his forearm. My right, fucking forearm. How could I have done this?
He stood there holding his arm in shock and in pain until he could open his eyes. His bone ached, and his whole arm felt like it was on fire. He tried to pull the bullet out, but he couldn't grab onto it with anything, and it hurt too damn much. He wrapped it tightly with an old towel to stop the bleeding. The blood soaked through, so he grabbed a short rope to use as a tourniquet and awkwardly twisted it around his upper arm.
Damn it! I really am screwing this up, like everything. He was right. Dad was right. I will never amount to anything. I'm weak. Stupid! God is just trying to teach me humility. No! I'm the chosen one. I have to do this right.
Don sat down in front of the fire again, then got up and moved the gun into the pantry. He got a bottle of whiskey and took a long pull right out of the bottle, trying to dull the pain. He knew alcohol made his self-doubt and the echoes of his father's voice louder, but what choice did he have? He needed it to be able to work through the pain. As he got up and paced around, he heard a thud on the roof of the building and then another.
CHAPTER 30
They both jumped at the sound of a gunshot. Jo knew they couldn't break their way into the bunker, but they sure as hell could let Don know they were out there. Sandy found a large branch that had fallen from a nearby tree, and Jo scrounged around in the snow looking for a boulder. Finding none, she settled for another large branch hung up against a tree trunk. They threw them as hard as they could toward the bunker roof. After hurling the branches, they dove back into the woods.
Jo had thought about shooting the pistol to create noise, but she didn't want to waste any ammunition. She silently hoped she wouldn't need any.
They waited what seemed like an eternity but heard nothing. After about ten minutes, they devised another plan. Circling the bunker, they realized they were looking at a mostly underground structure. There were no windows, and the door appeared to be made out of thick wood and framed with two-by-sixes. No way could they break in. The earth berming and heavy materials made the bunker virtually bulletproof, which could work to their advantage.
Communicating all of this without words, they retrieved and brought their branches over to the entrance door. Because the door was essentially mounted on a stairwell that led down into the structure much like a cellar door, they could stand on either side of it. They beat the door with their branches. Jo was prepared to draw Bruns's weapon if Don attempted to exit the bunker. A faint sound emanated from the bunker, but they couldn't tell what was going on. They hit the door several more times and heard someone yelling. Because the walls were stone, all they heard was a muffled male voice. Hitting the door several more times produced more muffled shouts.
Frustrated and dejected, they made their way up into the woods while staying in clear view of the door. If this guy was coming out, they wanted to know about it. They took a moment to confer about the next plan of action.
"Well, clearly he isn't coming out," Sandy said.
"What should we do next?"
Sandy shrugged, and they both sat down on a fallen log.
"I thought for sure we could draw him out," she said. "If the guy is that nuts, we must be having some effect."
"Apparently not. Let's hope we didn't make it worse for Frank. God, I hate to think what's going on in there. Isn't there some way we can get in and find out? What haven't we tried?"
Sandy got a little smirk on her face and said, "The roof window." She jerked her head up, energized.
Jo held up her hand to stop her in that thought. "Whoa, slow down. He has a rifle. We would be sitting ducks. Remember our first priority? We have to stay safe here." She looked at Sandy closely. "I'm pretty sure he could shoot at us through the window."
Sandy slumped back down. Jo felt cold and tired. Having to sit still during the majority of the time they had been at the bunker was impacting their ability to stay warm. They heard soft footfalls off to the east and dropped down as far as they could, listening quietly.
CHAPTER 31
After walking for about fifteen minutes, they smelled smoke. Zoey eagerly anticipated finding Jo, and she could sense that Ree was equally impatient to find Sandy. They had both picked up the pace, continuing on in silence. The tracks seemed to be going in a circle, so she speculated that the bunker might be smack dab in the middle. They followed the tracks in silence but kept their headlamps on. The snow had begun to slow, so even Zoey could tell that the tracks they were following were new.
After they had walked what she guessed to be a semicircle, they heard a faint "Whoo-aah." It was Jo. This was the special signal they used to find out if someone in the woods was friend or foe. All of their close friends knew it and responded in kind.
Zoey's heart leapt, and she "Whoo-aah'd" back and started running as fast as her snowshoes would take her in the direction of Jo's voice. When she got to her, she hugged her tight. Ree and Sandy hugged each other, too. Once they had reconnected, Zoey updated Sandy and Jo on the status of Tanner and his likely return. Jo told them about the gunshot and their attempts at drawing Don out.
Zoey went numb, trying to absorb what Jo had said. When she gained her composure enough to find her voice, she said, "You did what?"
Jo stood there, fidgeted a little, placed her hands on her hips, and then took them down. Put them back up and forced a weak smile.
Ree repeated the question to Sandy, "You did what?"
Sandy did at least try to defend herself, "There is an innocent man in there with a lunatic. We heard a shot. We had to do something."
"Like run," Zoey blurted.
They agreed to hold tight and wait for Tanner to show up with his snowmobile. They were all hungry and cold and a little peeved at each other. They could afford to be, now that they knew everyone was safe, at least for the moment.
After about ten minutes of waiting, Tanner arrived, and they brought him up to speed. He stubbornly had to make his own assessment about the impenetrability of the bunker and the dangers involved in trying to get at Don and Frank. Tanner was also a little peeved when he heard about Jo and Sandy's attempts to lure Don out. Everyone watched as he made his inspection of the structure and the surrounding area.
CHAPTER 32
Frank struggled to stay upright as Don pushed him down the stairs and into the dark cabin. One dim light clicked on, and Frank blinked at the sudden illumination. The bunker was made of stone and had a roof window, lots of shelving, a kitchen table, and some type of pantry. Don put the gun to Frank's back and nudged him toward a dog bed.
A fucking dog bed. This is how I'm going to die. Please God, don't let me die this way.
Frank's fear increased as Don spoke to himself again as he tied him up. He had been talking to himself off and on all day. Hell, they had been hiking through the snow all fucking day.
Why didn't I recognize it earlier when Don was out of it in the woods? He was walking in circles and muttering to himself. I should have run then. I might not get another chance. If I do, I'm going to take it. Damn, I hope I get another chance.
Frank worried that he had missed his one opportunity. He could barely move his frozen feet and hands, but if he got one more chance, he vowed to run like hell.
The big man pushed Frank down on the dog bed and tied him up. He still had all of his wet clothes on. Don built a fire and made coffee. Frank again heard him muttering to himself about getting her back, arguing about whether or not she still loved him, and resolving to finish what he had started. Frank silently hoped he was not part of what Don intended to finish.
Don was working himself up into a frenzy when he suddenly cowered in the corner and shot the rifle. Frank nearly wet himself, sure that the bullet was meant for him, but he coul
d see from his position on the dog bed that the bullet had ricocheted and hit Don in the arm.
Maybe I have a chance. Maybe God is watching out for me. I promise God, if you let me out of this, I'll do anything. Be a better person, anything. Please God, let him bleed to death.
Frank watched in silent dread as Don pulled things together enough to wrap up his bleeding arm and drink some whiskey. Damn, but Frank really wanted some whiskey himself. He felt he couldn't say anything because he didn't know how Don would react. He didn't have any experience with people who heard voices. He didn't want to make things worse. He knew from talking to Jean that Don could be dangerous. And when Don shot that Deputy at the third cabin, it was obvious what he was capable of.