Frozen Footprints

by Therese Heckenkamp

  I cocked an ear and was relieved to hear snoring still going strong. As it was impossible to tiptoe in our boots, we walked flat-footed, making little noise. We crossed the small living room, a room which taunted lurid memories of torture, and reached the front door. Max turned the knob, inched the door open, and indicated with a sweeping gesture for me to pass through first.

  He was right behind me as I stepped out onto the snowy porch. He closed the door quietly while I pulled in a deep breath of clean icy air. An owl hooted somewhere above, as if rooting for our escape.

  Giddy energy trilling through me, I padded down the few steps, then broke into a run.

  As I fled the cabin for the rustic road, blue, black, and gray shades of night blurred before my eyes, eyes which smarted and teared in the cold, a coldness which chapped my lips and dried my tongue. Running my tongue over my gums, I could even taste the cold, a slight metallic flavor.

  The glorious taste of freedom.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Snow crunched underfoot as I bounded down the slope of the narrow road, exhilarated by the rush of frigid fresh air. Not pausing, I headed left, following the road’s sweeping curve. It bent left again, swooping past towering, snow-capped pines, before straightening and ending abruptly at a wide open vista of white. There before me lay a magnificent, open expanse of snow-blanketed ice.

  “The lake.” My eyes roved in pure wonder. After my captivity, the largeness of the world astonished me.

  Hearing no response, I turned. “Max?” Panic billowed in my chest. “Max, where are you?” Suddenly afraid, I hurried to retrace my steps. I’d been so caught up in my breathless dash, I’d just assumed Max was right there with me. Overcoming my hesitation to make noise, I yelled with full power. “Max!”

  “I’m here. I’m coming,” he panted.

  I hustled up the road and found him moving along at a pace closer to a jog than a run. He shook his head. “This is no good. I’m weak. I’m slow. My foot’s killing me, and my legs won’t do what my brain tells them.” His eyes were pained. “Char, I’m sorry, but you’ll have to go without me. I refuse to hold you back.” He looked past me and spotted the lake. Relief touched his voice. “But it’s okay. We’ll be okay. You can cross the lake in a flash. Look.” He pointed.

  At first, I saw nothing. With no moon or stars visible, the sky seemed to be spread with tar. Snow, which lay pure as beaten egg whites, seemed to be the only thing lighting our surroundings. Then as I stared, I caught sight of a pinprick of light across the lake. It was a more welcome sight than any light the sky could have held. It’s a house light. In the house, I was sure to find understanding people and, most importantly, a telephone.

  “You see that light?” Max asked. “Go there. Get help.”

  “But what about you? You can’t just stand here waiting. What if Abner—”

  He left the road and began pushing through tangled brush, into the forest. “I’ll crouch down and hide out in here. I’ll hibernate.” He laughed shortly. “Now get going.”

  “But—”

  “Go, Char. It’s our only chance. Whatever happens, don’t come back unless you bring the cops.”

  Even as I stepped away, I reached out toward him. “I’ll find help, I promise. Pray for us,” I added.

  With a nod, he ducked into the underbrush.

  I turned and raced for the promising light. Just a speck, but it grew as I tore across the crusty surface of the lake, never once looking back. Icy wind battered my face. Visions of Grandfather snuggled in his comforter-laden bed pushed their way into my mind. At least he doesn’t control the cops up here.

  I forced my legs to keep moving. The muscles cramped painfully, not used to such exercise. I shoved my thoughts away from the pain. I need to be free not just of Abner, but of Grandfather. I will be, I promised myself.

  Though I kept a strong pace, I didn’t seem to be making any progress. The light, as irresistible as the light at the end of a tunnel, remained unreachable, making me wonder if I was caught in a dream.

  Had the light moved? Was it some kind of star after all? It appeared to have risen. But no, I had finally reached land, and the light stood on a post at the top of an almost vertical embankment. So it wasn’t a window light; still, I held onto hope. Grasping prickly branches and wiry shrubs, I struggled to the top, where the grand form of a large stone house made me sigh with relief.

  Snow squeaked underfoot as I passed a tire swing which hung, like a frosted black donut, from a tree in the front yard. The house’s windows were dead of light. Of course, at this time of night, that was normal. I’d have to wake the occupants, but I trusted they’d be more than understanding once I explained my situation.

  When ringing the glowing doorbell failed to bring any response, I figured the owners must be sound sleepers. I began knocking. This soon turned to pounding. With a savage blow of my fist to the wood, the thought finally struck me that no one was home. Most likely, this was a vacation house. The lamppost probably turned on automatically at dusk.

  Refusing to accept this devastating truth, I beat harder. There very well could be other residences along this lake, but I didn’t have all night to search. I rattled the doorknob. I battered the windows. Maybe there was no one home, but I was still determined to get inside to find a phone.

  I snatched up a brick lining the sidewalk, not pausing to think that I was, in my desperation, resorting to vandalism, and aimed for the window. Before the brick had a chance to fly, a voice startled me.

  “Charlene!”

  My hand wavering, I turned to see a shadowy silhouette, one I had seen enough times in darkness to recognize. It was Clay, hurtling toward me with manic speed, snow flying from his feet. My grip tightened on the brick as I scanned the shadows for Abner. “Are you alone?”

  “Yes.” He dropped his hands to his thighs, catching his breath beside me.

  “Good, you can help me get the police.” I pulled my arm back to throw the brick, but he seized my wrist.

  “No, you don’t understand. There’s no time. You’ve got to come back or Abner—”

  I tore myself from his grasp as a violent mixture of devastation and anger filled me. “Come back? Are you insane? Why are you still helping him? Did he threaten you this time, or did you just volunteer? Unbelievable! I thought you’d changed, but I was obviously wrong.” My fierce tirade cut into his protests, and I heard nothing he said. My grip on the brick tightened as I backed away. I should just throw it at him.

  But what if I hurt him?

  “I’m not going back!” I hurled the brick at his feet, then took off running. “Help!” I screamed at the top of my lungs. “Someone please help me!” The words rattled through the air, like stones in a tin can, and I knew there was no one to hear them.

  Glancing over my shoulder at the wrong moment, I ran smack into the tree that held the tire swing. Dizzily, I grabbed for the frozen rope, and it was the only thing that kept me from falling. Snow flaked from the rope in delicate slivers. Clay, a wavering strip of black before my shaken eyes, approached.

  My head had to clear before I could run again. I needed to buy some time. “You’re a double-double-crosser,” I spat. “I bet you heard us escaping and told Abner.”

  “Think what you want. Just quit wasting time. Your brother’s life is at stake. Abner gave me exactly ten minutes to bring you back before he kills him. We’ve probably got less than five left. So come on.” His eyes blazed with urgency as he extended his hand.

  “Stay away!” My brain still woozy, I clutched the tire. “Why should I believe you? What if this is a trick?”

  “It’s not. But since my word means nothing to you, answer this: Are you willing to gamble with your brother’s life?”

  “If you’re telling the truth, and Abner has Max, then he’s already good as dead. My coming back won’t stop that,” I said flatly. “My only chance is to get help. I’m so close. I have to try. There won’t be another chance. Help me,” I surprised myself by ple
ading. I recalled Clay’s kindness from when we were last together in the hole. I know there’s good in you.

  “You don’t get it, do you?” His voice was gruff. “You don’t have a choice. You’re coming with me, one way or another.” He stepped forward, suddenly looking very strong.

  Without warning, I hurled the tire at him. I heard the Mmmph as it socked him in the chest, saw chunks of snow fly, and heard a thud as he hit the ground.

  I ran from the twinge of horror at what I’d done. I had to do it. He was lying. Max is safe; he’s hiding. Abner couldn’t have found him. I pounded over the snow, thinking, But Clay found me . . .

  Desperately wishing another house would appear, I ran aimlessly, burdened by fear, and my pace was too frantic for my eyes. Something—a log or a rock or a root—tripped me, and I went sprawling, smacking my face into the snow.

  As I lifted my head, I saw Clay coming, and a wave of terrifying déjà vu struck me. This had all happened before—only now it was twisted, wickedly contorted. He was no innocent ice fisherman, and he was not my rescuer; he was my enemy.

  I’d barely struggled to my knees by the time he reached me. In one quick, fluid motion, he scooped me up and tossed me over his shoulder like a sack, knocking the breath from me as he did so. He carried me swiftly through overhanging branches that snatched at my hat and hair. In a flash, we were out of the forest and facing the lake. He skidded down the bank and onto the ice, bumping and jostling me.

  “Put me down!” I screamed, beating his back with my hands and his front with my knees. His only answer was to grip me tighter. I tried writhing and twisting, but his arms were iron bands around me. The blood rushed to my head, and as I strained my neck to look up, I saw the shore, my one chance of salvation, fading rapidly away.

  “I’ll find help, I promise.” Those had been my last words to Max. I’d failed him yet again. But no, those hadn’t been my last words. Not quite. “Pray for us,” I’d added.

  Bitterness filled me now as I joggled upside down, completely demoralized. God, we’ve been praying so hard. You obviously don’t want us to be free. I know I’m supposed to accept Your will, but I can’t accept this. I can’t.

  “We might still make it in time,” Clay puffed.

  I tried again to struggle free, hoping his strength was wearing down, but it did no good. Finally, I went limp. “I hate you, I hate you,” I said pointlessly, defeated.

  “I’m sorry.” There was a long pause—time for him to gather breath. “But I don’t want Max killed.” Another pause. “Abner threatened my ma, too. Said the cancer won’t be what gets her,” another puff of breath, “if I don’t bring you back.”

  “Your mother will be so proud of you, I’m sure.”

  He cursed. “You’re impossible to please.”

  “No, I’m not. I like simple things. Freedom. The ability to walk on my own two feet. And a man who has the guts to act like a man.”

  “I’m trying,” he huffed, “to do what I can for you and Max, considering the circumstances.”

  My laugh came out raw and ragged. “You had me fooled for a little while, but no more. There’s no question in my mind what you’re bringing me back to: Death. Abner killed my father, did you know that?” I thought I felt a jolt run through his shoulder. Perhaps if I shocked him enough, I could still escape. “He killed Lydia, too. She’s buried in the cellar; he goes down at night to talk to her. Did you help him with those deaths, too?”

  For a second, I thought Clay was going to drop me. He shuddered, adjusted his grip, and plunged on. “I know what you’re doing, but your wild accusations aren’t going to free you. I know Abner’s evil, but the one thing I’m sure he’s not guilty of is Lydia’s death.” He heaved a deep breath. “He loved her too much.”

  “Maybe that’s why he killed her.”

  Instead of answering me, he bellowed, “Stop! Abner, stop! I’ve got her.”

  A moment later, I was tumbled unceremoniously to the ground. Aching all over, I looked up to see Abner with his ever-present gun in one hand and a switchblade knife in the other. I shivered convulsively and reached instinctively for a blanket to wrap around myself. Of course there was none, only shrubs poking through snow.

  “You’re lucky, very lucky.” Abner flicked the blade. “I was just about to start slicing up your brother.”

  Max sat on the ground, head down in his hands, and he didn’t even look at me. I’d never seen him so defeated, and my empty insides rolled. “What did you do to him?” My voice quavered. I should have come running the second Clay told me to.

  “Just kept myself entertained,” Abner said dismissively. “Now get up and get moving.” He kicked Max, then me. Motioning with his gun, he directed us onto the road.

  “How did you find us?” I was beginning to think that evil spirits appeared to him, guiding him. It wouldn’t surprise me. I just wanted to know what we were up against. But I already know. We’re up against evil. Utter evil. And it’s going to win.

  Abner laughed. “I’m a hunter. Tracking footprints in the snow is second nature. Clay’s not bad at it either, are you boy?”

  Tears hovered in my eyes. We would have been free but for the chance factor of fresh snow? It was too excruciatingly ironic to stand. And it wasn’t chance. God sent that snow. Why, God? Why?

  Abner marched us up the driveway, Clay included. Instead of ordering us into the cabin, he directed us to the left, up a slope to a grove of trees located yards from the building. “This will do nicely.” He pulled a long coil of rope from his coat and dropped it at Clay’s feet. “Tie them up against the trees.”

  Clay hesitated. “You’re not going to leave them out here all night? You know how the temperature drops, and if they can’t move—”

  “Precisely. They wanted to escape into the outside world, so now I’ll let them enjoy it.”

  My eyes met Clay’s and narrowed into I-told-you-so slits as Abner’s deep, resounding laughter shot through the night and ricocheted off the ebony tree trunks.

  “This has been so much more enjoyable than hunting mere animals. With you two Perigards, I get to savor the kill. See the fear in your eyes.”

  I tried to will the fear from my eyes, but I knew I failed.

  “What are you waiting for, boy?” Abner demanded. “I said tie them up.”

  The muscles around Clay’s eyes tensed. He bent as if to pick up the rope, but instead he went for the gun in a lightning quick move. Yet somehow, Abner anticipated the move and smashed his elbow into Clay’s stomach.

  “You never learn.” Abner hardly sounded angry, just exasperated, as Clay doubled over. Abner clouted him on the back, and Clay dropped to the ground. “You cannot defeat me. It is physically impossible. Now tie them up, and I’ll deal with you later.” As he spoke, his gun flashed from Clay, to me, to Max, always expecting something, always ready, and I barely blamed Clay as he picked up the rope and followed Abner’s directions. What was the point in resisting? It only brought pain. Death will be a relief, sighed my mind.

  For a finishing touch, Abner produced two handkerchiefs and made Clay tie them around our mouths.

  “I’m sorry,” Clay whispered.

  “Tighter,” Abner ordered. “Make it hurt.”

  The fabric cut into the corners of my mouth and into my cheeks. Not much material was in my mouth, though, so maybe I’d still be able to talk. Not that it would do any good. But even as I thought this, Abner used his grimy fingers to push a wad of handkerchief into my mouth until I literally started gagging. He did the same to Max, who was tied to the tree on my right.

  “Good night, sleep tight, don’t let the frostbugs bite.” Abner chuckled all the way back to the cabin, his gun pressed to Clay’s back. They disappeared through the front door, and I listened, thinking maybe Abner would smack Clay around a bit. But if he did, I heard nothing.

  I tried not to think about the way the ropes cut across me with vice-like pressure. Relaxing brought more pain as the ropes chafed against my wei
ght. But I had no energy left to keep from relaxing. No energy to try working at the ropes, no energy to fight the pain. And above all, no energy to pray.

  Yet my eyes lifted wearily, skyward. The murky black firmament belied the thought that up there, somewhere, existed brightness and goodness and happiness. A place called heaven. And God, a supposedly merciful God.

  My head dropped.

  Have mercy.

  * * *

  Unconscious or asleep (I wasn’t aware of a difference, only that I was free from pain on some level), I became aware of a noise pulling me rudely from my partial refuge where senses were dulled and energy not needed. A growling noise. An animal, perhaps? Yes, a bear. At last, the means of our death . . .

  I sighed, but the breath would not leave my mouth. How very annoying. But where was I? Oh yes, being eaten by a bear . . . I suppose it will hurt a lot, but maybe it will be over quickly.

  My head lolled against the harsh tree bark, and I snapped out of my fuzzy thoughts to agonizing reality. My eyelids parted, and I still saw darkness. Still night. Though it had felt like eternity, not much time had passed. Groggily, I saw that the source of the growling noise was only a car.

  Only a car? My eyes flew wide. I yearned to yell out and race toward the vehicle. Because this was not just any car. It was a cop car, rumbling to a stop as it parked behind Abner’s truck. The engine cut, giving way to the sound of whispering wind. A tall officer in a warm dark coat stepped out and surveyed his surroundings casually. Much too casually for my liking.

  Help! We’re over here! I tried to scream, but I could barely move my tongue against the saliva-saturated handkerchief. I watched with sinking heart as the officer headed not in my direction, but toward the cabin. He didn’t move particularly stealthily, either. In fact, his movement suggested routine boredom.