Torrents of Destruction

by Robin Caroll

  Hunter had never wanted to slam a fist into someone’s face so badly. Turning so he wouldn’t make a sarcastic comment, and also to swallow back the jealous fury rising in his chest, Hunter reached for the tent and tossed it to Paul. “Come on, I’ll help you get started.”

  “Wait. I’ll do it.” Jerry moved past Orson’s body, stepping in front of Hunter. “Paul and I can set up the tent while you help her get the old men settled.” He grabbed the tent, stomping toward the mouth of the cave. His footsteps sending water flying in his wake.

  Paul looked at Katie, shrugged, then turned to follow Jerry.

  Shadow barked twice—alert. The hairs on the back of Katie’s neck stood erect. She snapped her fingers. The dog, whining, immediately sat beside her.

  Hunter turned to Carter, who leaned against a tree, fighting for air.

  “You okay?”

  Carter nodded.

  A scream echoed from the cave.

  Katie spun, her heart soaring to her throat. Not again! She pushed off the soggy ground, her feet slipping in her haste.

  Hunter snapped at Carter, “Stay with Orson.”

  As one, Katie and Hunter headed to the opening of the cave.

  Pop! Pop!

  Katie froze as the gunshots reverberated down the mountain, slicing through the crash of the weather. She cut her gaze to Hunter and met his determined stare. Both slipped in their scramble to get inside the cave.

  Paul ran into them, literally, fleeing from the mouth of the cave. Whiteness covered his face. His jaw quivered.

  Hunter grabbed Paul by the shoulders. “What is it?”

  “S-S-Snakes.” Paul trembled.

  Giddy laughter bubbled in Katie’s chest. “It’s snake season.”

  “What about the gunshots?” Hunter’s piercing glare bore into Paul.

  Shaking his head, as if coming out of a trance, Paul finally met Hunter’s stare. “It’s J-J-Jerry’s. He shot at the snakes.”

  Without waiting to hear more, Hunter turned and bolted into the cave.

  Katie laid her hand on Paul’s shoulder. “It’ll be okay. You go sit with Orson and Carter. I’m going to see about the snakes.” She peered at him. Not seeing any understanding dawning in his expression, she squeezed his shoulder and raised her voice. “Paul? Go sit with the others.”

  He lifted his gaze to her face, seemed to focus on her words, and nodded.

  She waited until Paul trudged in the direction of the older men, then turned toward the cave, nearly tripping over Shadow, the loud, angry voices of Hunter and Jerry carried over the rain and wind. She pressed forward, her dog at her side.

  “That’s still no excuse to have a gun on a rafting trip!” One of Hunter’s hands curled around the nose of a handgun while the other gestured at Jerry.

  Jerry stood with his hands on his hips, radiating arrogance and anger. “I told you, I brought my gun for reasons just like this: protection.”

  “You shouldn’t have a firearm, period.”

  “And who, exactly, are you to tell me what I can and can’t bring on a trip in the wild?”

  Moving quickly, Katie positioned herself between the two men. She stood on tiptoes to intervene. Her back to Hunter, she concentrated her attention on Jerry.

  Shadow bristled beside her, a growl building in his throat. She rested a hand on the dog’s head, drawing from the canine’s strength. “Guns of any sort are prohibited on this land. It’s clearly posted in all the Gauley Guides by Gallagher material not to bring any.” She straightened and curled her hands into fists on her hips. “What were you thinking?”

  A scowl crossed his face, then he quickly replaced it with a look of annoyance. “Look, what’s the big deal? I always carry my gun for personal protection.” He shrugged, his defensive attitude still shouting. “Besides, it’s a good thing I did too. I got those snakes. Now we can set up the tents and get out of this weather.”

  Katie sighed. She opened her mouth to agree to drop the matter—for now, when Hunter spoke from behind her.

  “Do you have a permit for this gun?”

  Jerry’s eyes narrowed to tiny slits. Even in the driving rain, Katie could see the fury shooting from his glare. “Not that it’s any of your business, but yes, I do have a permit.” He shifted his weight and wiped the water from his face. “So, give me back my gun and let’s get the tents set up.”

  “I don’t think so. I think I’ll hold onto this for you until we get back to the lodge.” Hunter slipped the muzzle of the gun under his arm.

  “Why do you think you should have it and not me?” Jerry pushed Katie from between him and Hunter. “It’s my gun. Give it back.”

  Shadow lowered his head, his growl intensifying.

  Hunter let out a snort. “I don’t think so.”

  Jerry took the last remaining step between them. “I didn’t ask. Give it to me, or I’ll take it back.”

  “You and who else?”

  Heart pumping in her throat, Katie pushed Jerry back. “Enough! Both of you. This who-has-the-highest-testosterone-level game is wearing thin on my nerves.” She turned and held her palm out in front of Hunter. “I’ll take it and keep it until we get back.” Shadow kept his back to Hunter, taking an aggressive stance toward Jerry.

  She could almost feel the tension emitting from the two men trading power stares. Swallowing, Katie wiggled her fingers as she stared at Hunter. “The gun … give it to me.”

  Hunter laid the gun in her hand. The cold steel against her skin sent shivers throughout her body. “Thank you,” she mouthed to Hunter.

  Turning, she gave a curt nod to Jerry. “You get in there and get the tents set up. Orson needs medical care.” Without waiting for a reply, Katie moved from between them and headed toward the other men, Shadow on her heels. She tucked the handgun into the first-aid kit, then directed her focus on Orson. She withdrew a peppermint and slipped it inside her mouth as she knelt beside the injured man.

  Why couldn’t the imbeciles see they didn’t have time for silly men’s games?

  Chapter 11

  Could they just get a break?

  From the crazy weather to Jerry’s antics, Hunter couldn’t get a grasp on the situation. Katie stepping in hadn’t been added into his equation either. Who would’ve guessed she’d step between two angry men and demand to take custody of the gun? He shook his head—he had to admire her spunk. If only he could tell her who he really worked for and what mission he’d undertaken.

  Neither he nor Jerry had moved an inch since Katie left. Almost like two dogs squaring off, neither one wanted to give up their ground and lose face to the other. Hunter knew he should be the bigger man and go get the tents set up. Orson needed attention and Carter and the others needed a dry place, but Hunter’s determination wouldn’t let him move. Somewhere in the line between his mind and his feet, his gut seemed to have waylaid the message.

  “Oh, good gravy.” Katie’s voice oozed irritation and disgust as she walked back into the cave’s mouth. “You two are like schoolyard bullies. I don’t have time to deal with male egos and pride on overload.” She pushed Hunter’s arm, then Jerry’s. “I want those snake carcasses out and those tents pitched before I make it in here with Orson and the others.” Flipping around, she took two steps toward the other men, then looked back at them over her shoulder. “And that’s an order. Both of you—move it.”

  Properly chastised, Hunter kept his gaze down as he stalked into the cave. It smelled of mildew, dirt, and forgotten memories in the still air. He grabbed the tails of the two snakes and pulled them free of the cave, letting their dead forms slither into the torrents of rain sliding down the hill. He returned, and Jerry had the big tent unrolled and stacked the metal stakes to the side. They hit against one another, sending a tinking noise bouncing off the hollow walls.

  Still not speaking to Jerry, Hunter took the short end of the tent and pulled it as far back into the cave as possible. The tent flap would face the cave’s opening. The larger tent nearly spanned the
diameter of the confined space, but there’d be enough room to cram in Katie’s tent.

  He reached for a stake and used a rock to hammer it into the dirt floor, while wondering what Katie’s reaction would be when she learned the truth. He vowed he’d be the one to tell her. Yet with the discovery of Jerry’s gun, and in light of Steve and Orson’s accusations, maybe he should tell her the truth now.

  “Good.” Her voice tore into his thoughts. She stood in the cave’s mouth, her hands on her hips. No question about it, she pulled at his attraction when she got irritated or angry. “By the time you get done, Paul, Carter and I should have Orson up here.” She didn’t wait for a reply, just turned and left.

  A sense of loneliness, one he wasn’t accustomed to experiencing, swelled in his chest. His breathing became labored. The echoes of Jerry’s hammering ricocheted against Hunter’s head at a deafening decibel. A rush of heat rose within him, causing him to sweat. What was wrong with him? He swallowed and focused harder on hammering in the last stake for the tent.

  “I’ll start on hers.” Jerry loomed over him, holding the roll of Katie’s tent.

  Hunter nodded, but his attention dimmed. His mouth went dry while his stomach churned. What was happening to him?

  Lifting the stone to pound against the stake, Hunter’s hands trembled. He brought the rock down with a hard thrust, only to miss his entire mark. His vision blurred as a wave of nausea swept over him. The ground shifted under him, and he swayed. He could make out Jerry setting up Katie’s tent—the pounding against metal and the resulting pinging.

  He fell to his side, his tongue growing larger by the minute. Air wouldn’t come. He gasped for breath. Numbness crept up his body. His eyes watered.

  “Oh, heaven help us, Hunter!”

  Katie’s panicked cry broke through the cobwebs of Hunter’s mind. He wanted to respond, but the words strangled in his throat.

  Her cold hands pressed against his cheek. The back of his head rested in the softness of her lap. He blinked, then tried to open his eyes. They wouldn’t budge. Colors erupted before his eyes. Before blackness prevailed, Hunter did the only thing he could. He prayed.

  Katie held Hunter’s head in her lap, a dark void nagging her heart. As he slipped out of consciousness, her mind raced. What could’ve happened to him? Her gaze shot to Jerry, who stood over them. Had he done something to hurt Hunter? The memory of Jerry’s anger over his gun swirled against her brain. That he’d hidden a weapon provided yet another piece of the puzzle. But what was his agenda? What was his end game?

  Paul brought her a wet rag. Katie bathed Hunter’s forehead. No longer bronzed tan, his face turned an awkward and frightening pallor. Little elasticity in his skin. Not good. Not good at all. Continuing to dab, she felt the heat of his flesh—he burned with internal fever. What could cause such a reaction?

  Shadow whimpered beside her. The dog laid his head on his front paws, his big brown eyes watching each move Katie made.

  Carter came out of the tent where they’d laid Orson and ambled toward her. His bones creaked and made snapping noises as he knelt beside her. He spoke, his voice cracking as much as his joints. “Looks like he’s bad sick. Did he eat a poisonous plant or something?”

  She concentrated on only one word he’d uttered. Poisonous.

  “Paul, grab me Hunter’s bedroll, please,” she said.

  When he handed it to her, she gently slipped out from under Hunter’s head and used his bedroll as a pillow. She pulled to her feet and approached Jerry at the opening of the cave.

  Even in the darkness, Katie could see the rain continued to pelt the ground. The wind whipped past the overhang, sending miniature typhoons dancing along the hillside. The sound grew louder, as if Mother Nature cast some premonition in their direction. Katie glanced down, expecting to see Shadow on her heels. He wasn’t by her side. She glanced over shoulder to find Shadow hadn’t left Hunter.

  She moved to stand beside Jerry. “The dead snakes—who disposed of them?” She fisted her hands at her sides, hoping the shaking would stop.

  “He-man Hunter did. I worked on getting the tents set up.” He raised a single eyebrow. “Which, I had to do all myself since wonder boy passed out hammering in his first stake.”

  She clenched her fists tighter, letting her nails dig into her palms, resisting the urge to slap him across the face. “Where did you shoot the snakes?”

  “Here in the cave.”

  Katie clenched her jaw to stop from screaming and pulling out her hair. “What part of the snakes did you shoot?”

  “Oh.” Jerry pursed his lips. “Well…” He rubbed his chin and looked to the roof of the cave.

  She let out an exaggerated breath. Shifting her weight from leg to the other, she crossed her arms over her chest. “Try to remember.”

  “I aimed for their heads.”

  “Are you a good shot?” Her patience drew as thin as her belief they’d get back to the lodge by daybreak.

  “Well, now,” he smiled wide, his arrogance shining brighter than his perfectly straight teeth, “I have been told I’m something of a marksman. So, yeah, I’m a good shot.”

  Katie shook her head and marched back over to Hunter. Shadow lifted his head to peer up at her. This time, instead of cradling Hunter’s head in her lap, Katie lifted his arms and inspected his hands. As she suspected, one had a deep cut, now raw and angry. She looked over at Paul. “Please bring me the first-aid kit.”

  Paul rose. “Uh, what’s it look like?”

  She bit back the snappy retort on the tip of her tongue. It wasn’t Paul’s fault—none of this. Now, Jerry could be a whole different story. Katie shook her head, mentally pushing down the questions and accusations in her heart. “It’s a white bag with a big red cross on the front. It should be in the bags with the food and coolers.” That’s where she’d left it when she’d stuck the confiscated gun in there.

  As Paul rushed to do her bidding, Shadow leaned over and licked Hunter’s face. Katie gave a soft smile. The dog, while friendly to most everyone, would never offer such attention to someone he deemed unworthy. Hunter must have impressed her Blue Heeler, and that was no easy feat.

  Paul returned with the kit and set it beside her before kneeling down beside Carter.

  Katie pulled out the syringe, pre-filled with anti-venom for the copperheads, the most common snake in the area. She ripped open the plastic packaging with her teeth. Taking a deep breath, she grabbed Hunter’s arm and jabbed the needle into his skin. She swallowed back her pounding fear. He had to be okay. She had to have gotten the anti-venom into his system on time.

  She chewed her bottom lip as all the first-aid courses she’d taken rushed across her mind, like racing over a class-five rapid. She grabbed the antibiotic cream, along with an antibacterial wipe. The tips of her fingers grazed over the cold metal of the gun lying in the bottom of the bag. She’d have to remember to take the kit into her tent for the night.

  Using gentle care, Katie wiped the puffy and oozing cut in Hunter’s palm, then coated it lavishly with the cream and found a large Band-Aid. She applied one loosely over his wound, then sat back on her heels to study him.

  His face was too pale. No muscles in his jaw moved.

  She reached to his neck, feeling for his pulse. It thumped against her fingers. Slow, but steady. Her heart hiccupped somewhat. He’d received the anti-venom, she’d addressed the contamination site … what else? What had she missed? There had to be something more she could do.

  Glancing at Paul, she flashed a weak smile. “He’ll be okay. I think we got to him in time.”

  “What happened?” Paul’s voice sounded barely a whisper.

  “One or both of the snakes must have released its venom right before Jerry shot it. The venom stays on the snake’s body, even when it’s dead. When Hunter grabbed the snakes, the poison slipped into his bloodstream through the cut in his hand.” She ran her fingers absentmindedly through Hunter’s hair. Its texture coarse, thick.

&
nbsp; “But he’ll be all right?” Paul asked.

  She stared at Hunter’s slack face. “I think so.” Touching his arm again, she noticed the fever still rampaged. “Paul, grab me another bedroll. We need to cover him.”

  Paul rose and left. Carter sat on the ground beside Hunter. Shadow hadn’t moved at all. Katie glanced over her shoulder. Jerry remained by the mouth of the cave, his body silhouetted by dancing flickers on the walls by the dimming light.

  Paul returned with the sleeping bag and helped Katie spread it over Hunter’s limp body. “This one is Walter’s . . . was.”

  Katie’s hand stilled over Hunter. The mention of the dead man’s name sent pinpricks of remorse up her back. She shook her head, concentrating her efforts on seeing to Hunter.

  Mission accomplished, Katie sighed and stood. “We need to go ahead and set up for the night.” She offered her hand to Carter. “Inside the food bags are three stationary flashlights. Get them set up.”

  “Paul, we need to get Orson in his dry bag. I’ll use Hunter’s bedroll. Get it and toss it into my tent, will you?”

  Both men moved away. Katie gave a final gaze at Hunter’s still body, then headed to the main tent, intent on transferring Orson to his dry bedroll and finding the supplies for supper. She slipped to the front of the cave and stood behind Jerry. “Want to help me get supper ready?”

  He spun around, a wild look in his eyes. “Nothing on this trip is going as planned. What are we going to do? The rain’s still coming down like cats and dogs. What if we’re stuck here for days? Do we have enough food to survive?”

  She smiled, willing herself to appear calm and cool. “We’ll be fine. If we’re careful, we’ve got enough food to last us a few days. My brothers will be searching for us long before then.” She started to turn, but stopped. Staring at Jerry, she decided to test him once more. “Besides, we’re two men lighter than we’d anticipated—that’ll be extra food as well.”

  The prideful look crossed his face in a blink, but she’d been looking for it. She didn’t miss it. Cold fear sent bullets of ice into her veins. Not bothering to hear anything Jerry had to say, Katie set about moving Orson and getting dinner for the group.