by Greig Beck
She set the newspaper down and pulled her feet from under Jess. ‘Should have done it before, old girl.’
As she got to her feet there came the almost imperceptible sound of branches snapping in the trees near the house. The noise carried easily to the dog’s ears on the still, cold air and Jess was immediately on her feet, hackles up from her neck to her tail, making her seem twice as large as her usual huge self. Her bark was deep and booming in the small room, and her lips had pulled back to show all her teeth.
Kathleen put her hand on the dog’s head, then ran it down over one ear and along her back. ‘Stop that, you silly thing. You’re scaring me.’ She felt the huge chest working like a set of bellows, the muscles bunched and tight.
Jess hadn’t taken her eyes off the front of the house, and skittered on the rug now as she rushed to the front door. Kathleen went to the window and looked out into the clear, moonlit yard. The front of the house was clear, and there was nothing visible amongst the large fir and birch trees she had allowed to grow to within fifty feet of the house. Weird old dog, she thought, as she looked over to where the firewood had been stacked neatly by that nice Jim Miller boy, who had cut it for her.
Kathleen pulled on her cardigan, picked up the firewood bucket and headed for the front door. On her way, she stepped out of her slippers and into a pair of rubber half-boots. As she approached the door, Jess moved to stand sideways across the frame. The dog looked up at her briefly, before swinging her head back to stare at the door as though seeing straight through the wood and out into the dark night.
‘You’re not going out if you’re going to carry on like that,’ Kathleen said. ‘I’m not planning on chasing you up the side of the mountain. So move, please.’
Jess took no notice.
Kathleen scowled at the dog, then pointed down beside herself. ‘Heel, Jess.’
The dog reluctantly came and sat beside her. She tried to lick Kathleen’s hand, whining and obviously highly agitated.
‘Stay.’ Kathleen walked to the door and looked back. The dog was licking her lips nervously and started to get to her feet. ‘Stay!’ Jess sat down again, but Kathleen could tell she was struggling to obey the command. She frowned again and shook her head; Jess had never disobeyed her before… ever.
‘I’ll just be a couple of minutes.’
Jess got to her feet again, but Kathleen opened the door and went out before the dog could try to stop her.
* * *
Alex and Adira allowed their horses to amble along the Ashkelon shoreline. Both in T-shirts, jeans and bare feet, they were enjoying the late afternoon sunshine on the coast of the ancient city. Alex inhaled deeply, taking in the smell of salt, warm sand and drying seaweed. He felt Adira watching him and turned to smile at her.
‘It’s magnificent here — thank you. Smelling the sea, hearing the sound of the waves… I find it peaceful.’ He looked out at the ocean and breathed in deeply again. ‘It’s strange, I know how to ride a horse, but don’t remember ever actually riding.’
‘We’ve been here before; it’s one of our favourite spots. Don’t worry, it’ll come back soon,’ Adira said smiling and pointed to a small horseshoe-shaped cove, where the sand was flat and golden. ‘Let’s give the horses a rest,’ she said.
She slid from her horse and Alex followed suit. This far south the beaches were unoccupied — too close to the Gaza Strip to be considered safe, but perfect if you wanted solitude. A few trees stood at the edge of the dunes, and tough grass dared to creep down towards the water. Alex tied his horse up in the shade and walked a few paces to lie down on the sand. He closed his eyes. The gentle sound of the small waves breaking just a few feet away should have made him relax completely. But there was a nagging prickle behind his eyes — as if there was something he needed to do, or remember, and his overactive brain wouldn’t let go until he did.
He opened his eyes and lifted one of his arms, examining the skin on both sides. The fresh scars that had been visible a few days ago were gone — not just healed, but vanished entirely. There was something else too: he’d started to sense things… things beyond sight, smell and hearing. Adira had told him his name was Horowitz, and that he was a soldier in the Israeli army. He’d been injured in battle, concussed, and he’d lost his memory. It sounded right, but didn’t feel right.
Even as they got closer, he couldn’t tell whether she wanted to be his bodyguard, or his keeper… or something more. Back in Israel, he’d seen her talking daily to the man she called his doctor, but he’d known she was lying. She was good at it, but he could tell. He mentally shrugged. Did it really matter? Alex didn’t feel in any hurry to remember whatever it was that the doctors, or Adira’s superiors, desperately wanted him to remember. After all, he had everything he needed here — as Adira kept telling him.
She sat down beside him, and Alex opened one eye and watched her for a minute. She never relaxed, never once closed her eyes and surrendered to the warm sunshine. She was always on guard, on duty; her eyes never stopped moving, from the line of dunes, to the crystal-clear water, to the small stand of trees…
He tapped her leg to get her attention. ‘Do you miss them?’
She looked at him quizzically. ‘Miss who?’
‘Whoever it is you keep looking for.’ He grinned at her, still keeping one eye shut against the glare of the sun.
She laughed and lay down, propping herself on one elbow. ‘I just keep a lookout for you.’
‘I’m right here,’ he said, brushing some sand from her jeans and letting his hand remain on her thigh. ‘It’s hot. Bring a swimsuit?’
‘Very, and no.’ She leaned forward, her dark eyes containing amusement and desire.
Alex recognised the gaze, but in a flash Adira’s face had morphed into that of another woman, with finer features and soft blue eyes. He tried to put a name to the face, but the prickling he’d felt behind his eyes turned to white-hot pain. He winced and sat up. Something was happening, or about to — he could sense it, he knew it.
Adira pulled back from him and stood quickly. ‘Come on, let’s get out of the sun. You need to rest.’ She sounded disappointed.
* * *
Adira woke to the sound of crashing and Alex yelling. She switched on the hall light and stood in his doorway, just able to make out his shape sitting on the bed holding his head. The migraines again, she thought. He seemed to suffer them most when he tried to reach back into his memory and recover who he was. His past was still locked away from him — behind a red-hot door of pain.
‘Are you okay, Alex?’
She waited a few seconds for him to respond. When he didn’t, she walked into the room and sat on the bed beside him. She poured him a small cup of water and lifted it towards his lips. ‘Here.’
He held her hand and the cup, draining it.
‘I see faces in my dreams.’ His voice was slow, as though he wasn’t fully awake. ‘I see a soldier, grey-haired and mean-looking. And an old woman on a porch… there’s a mountain in the background. I know her… I know her.’
Alex looked at Adira, but she wasn’t sure he actually saw her or whether his mind was still somewhere else. It was hot in the room, hotter than usual, and his body was an unnatural temperature. She had been told to expect it as his metabolism worked well above the normal average range. She used the cuff of her long-sleeved T-shirt to wipe his brow.
‘There are other things.’ His tone was becoming insistent. ‘Things that hide in the dark, or crawl on insect legs — monsters, maybe, from my imagination… but they seem so real.’
Adira had seen one of those monsters on a mission with Alex in the Iranian desert. They’d been attacked by something that should never have existed outside of a nightmare — and it wasn’t only his sleep it haunted.
He grabbed her wrist. ‘Something’s reaching out to me, calling me — it won’t stop.’ He pulled her closer and stared into her face.
She brushed the damp hair from his forehead. ‘Shhh, you’re safe
here, Alex.’
‘You’re all I’ve got left.’ He drew her even closer and she let him. ‘You don’t know how much I…’ He found her mouth, and the kiss that started softly became hungrier and more urgent.
She clung to him, feeling a warm bloom spread in her belly. Deep down, she knew this was what she had wanted almost since she’d first met him. ‘Alex, Alex…’ She kissed him again and again, on the mouth and neck, tasting the salt of his perspiration. It excited her even more.
She wasn’t supposed to let anything complicate her mission objectives. She never had before, and it had been easy: she was always a soldier of Israel first. She was her duty.
His mouth found hers again.
This is different, she thought. This is something I want… something that’s just mine.
She lifted her T-shirt up over her head, and he pulled her down on top of him. The warmth in her belly spread lower.
* * *
The night was at its darkest; it would be morning soon. Sleep was impossible. She lay on top of the sheets, feeling the perspiration trickle from her temples into her hair. There was a fluttering sensation in her stomach that made her feel euphoric and apprehensive at the same time. The values she held dear and the things she’d thought she wanted suddenly seemed far less important compared to the selfish desires she now harboured. Throughout the night, silly half-dreams of going away together, somewhere far from either of their countries, somewhere no one would find them, had played over in her mind.
Adira could hear Alex’s soft breathing beside her, rhythmic like a machine. The feelings of apprehension rose again. She couldn’t count on his memory never returning. What would he think when he found out that he was someone completely different from the person she’d told him he was? He’d hate her — she’d lose him.
Her objective was to get Alex Hunter to reveal the elusive element that made the Arcadian treatment work. Science alone was unable to deliver it. Her success would give Israel access to a source of security for the future. Her country was a mere eight million souls surrounded by an Arab world numbering nearly three hundred million, most of whom wanted Israel erased from the map. But once that door in Alex’s mind was opened, other corridors back to his past would be available to him.
She groaned and rolled towards him, but couldn’t make out his profile in the blackness of the room. When she was a little girl, her uncle, now the general, had told her of a famous Israeli saying: Alone we are weak, but together we are iron. She would not abandon Israel, but how could she do that and not lose Alex?
She reached out and touched his shoulder, feeling the heat. She had been faithful to Israel her entire life. Didn’t that count for something?
This will not end well, she thought, and closed her eyes.
ELEVEN
Chief Logan stood in the afternoon chill and watched Forensic Services finish up their examination of the Wilson place. He’d managed to persuade Helen and Clark Wilson to stay in a motel in town for the evening so they wouldn’t be following the officers around during their investigation. His men needed the freedom to probe everything, from under the beds to the surrounding woods. It would be stressful for the parents if nothing was found; even worse if something was.
An hour earlier, one of his officers had returned from the far tree line at the foot of the mountain carrying a small red sweater in a plastic bag. It matched the description of the clothing Emma was wearing when she disappeared. It was intact, and there was no blood or other signs that could be associated with an animal attack. At least that’s something, Logan had thought as he watched the head of Forensics, Ted Brandon, open the bag.
Brandon had sniffed the contents then recoiled slightly.
Logan had frowned. ‘What?’
Brandon shook his head, shrugged and resealed the bag. He’d thrown it to one of his team and wandered over to Logan.
‘What was it?’ Logan had asked again.
‘Funny smell is all.’ Brandon had looked distracted.
‘Got something, Chief!’
The shout from the woods startled Logan back to the present. He should have felt elated at the discovery of a clue, but for some reason he was dreading any news at all.
‘Whatta you got, Ollie?’ he yelled back.
Officer Markenson pointed at several spots amongst the grass and dirt in a clearing. ‘Tracks… plenty of ’em.’
Logan and Ted Brandon moved quickly to where the men had formed a ring around where Markenson was pointing with a flashlight. Brandon crouched down and rested his forearms on his knees. After a moment he nodded. ‘Yep.’
Logan went down beside him, squinting at the disturbed soil and twigs. Brandon reached out with one hand and spread his fingers over a group of scuffs and indentations.
‘Big pug marks — ten inches at least. Here’s your escaped lion, Chief.’
Logan drew in a breath and let it out slowly.
Markenson raised his flashlight and pointed back into the trees. ‘Came in from there,’ he moved the torch towards the mountains, ‘and goes out there. This is as close as it got, I think.’
Logan nodded. ‘Good man.’
He felt a glimmer of hope that the tracks didn’t come within a hundred feet of the house.
Brandon moved some twigs. ‘It was here a while. What was it doing… just watching?’
Markenson shook his head. ‘Lying in wait probably. They do that, you know.’
Logan shook his head. ‘Unlikely.’ The Kringle Brothers had told him the lion had never attacked anyone in its life.
Markenson crouched down with him and pointed the light at Logan’s face. ‘I was doing some reading before I came up, Chief. Adult lion eats up to twenty pounds of meat a day. That little Wilson girl was just over forty wringing wet. If it did take her, in a couple of days, there ain’t gonna be much left.’
‘That’s enough of that talk. We don’t know the lion took her.’
‘It’s true, Chief,’ Officer Parsons said from behind them. ‘And they don’t eat their prey right away. They usually take it somewhere quiet and secluded. They like to eat where they —’
Logan shot to his feet. ‘Shut the fuck up, both of you.’
Brandon rose slowly, wiping his hands on his thighs. ‘Bill, they’re right. Big cat, hungry, probably confused and scared. Used to people or not, all bets are off, I reckon.’
Logan looked up at the sky; it was getting dark. He walked a few paces away from the small group and stood with his hands on his hips, looking up into the thick forest cover of the Black Mountain. For the first time in his life, he thought the beautiful peaks seemed secretive, even a little threatening.
They probably were right about the lion. Decisions mattered, and even minutes probably counted now. He spun back to the group.
‘Markenson, Parsons — you two just pulled extra duty. We’re going up.’
* * *
We shoulda done this days ago, Logan thought miserably as he and his three men moved up the side of the mountain, breathing hard, leaving plumes of hot air behind them. Logan was only just managing to keep pace with Harry Erskine, who was being dragged up the steep incline by the twenty feet of leather lead attached to his tracking hound. The large animal was picking up speed in spite of the increasing slope.
Logan tried to remain upbeat. She’s going to be okay. She has to be… No one gets attacked by a lion in North Carolina, for chrissakes. Might as well put up signs at the Fontana Dam warning of sharks.
Nevertheless, he felt himself sagging, fatigue and concern weighing him down.
‘Get your running shoes on, Chief,’ Erskine called. ‘Buzz must be getting close.’
Erskine leaped over a log and nearly slipped on the frozen ground. The leash went taut and jerked him forward once again. Logan looked back and frowned; his two officers had fallen nearly fifty feet behind and looked ready to sit down first chance they got. He swore softly, before yelling back down the hill, ‘Markenson, Parsons, you get your asses up here,
pronto. We got contact.’
Markenson looked up briefly, gave his senior officer a thumbs-up, and started taking larger, though not faster, steps. Pete Parsons nodded, but struggled to get his thick thighs moving at any increased speed. He resorted to using the barrel of his shotgun as a hiking stick, which elicited a torrent of foul language from Logan. Parsons lifted the gun and wiped the stock on his jacket sleeve, then put his head down and ploughed forward, breathing hard in the icy air.
Logan followed Erskine into a thicker stand of trees, and nearly crashed into the man’s back. Erskine had reeled the dog in and strapped its snout. It whined softly and danced at his feet, eager to continue the chase and confront whatever it had been tracking for the last few hours.
‘What…’ Logan began, but stopped as Erskine held the back of one hand up in front of his face.
‘It’s just through them bushes,’ he whispered without turning, ‘moving in and out of the rocks. Must be a cave or shelter or sumthin’ there.’
Logan followed Erskine’s gaze. After a second or two, he saw movement — something large, fur-covered, moving in and out of the shadows. The dog whined again and pulled on its lead.
‘What’s up?’ Markenson’s voice made Logan jump.
He turned to scowl at the man, put his finger first to his lips, then pointed through the foliage. Markenson nodded slowly, mouthing, Got it.
‘Whatta we doin’?’ Parsons gasped as he reached them, his round face the colour of boiled beef.
Logan stood, giving up trying to be quiet. ‘For fuck’s sake, Parsons. Why didn’t you bring your bugle? You coulda belted out the cavalry charge. Whatever it is, it’s through there. I’m going in, but I want you two ten feet further up near that big oak. Keep watching me, and whatever you do, don’t bunch up. And don’t fucking shoot each other… or me.’