by Joe Russell
He placed in his own pack items that he thought he’d need for their search and omitted anything he thought was extraneous, especially if they were particularly heavy or bulky, and instructed Mike to do the same. He packed some ready-to-eat food, including one MRE and some assorted snacks, but left out the freeze-dried meals and other heavier items. He left out the cook stove, fuel, and mess kit. He did, however, remove and pack the zip-lock bag of instant coffee he kept in the mess kit, thinking that it may come in handy when fatigue set in later in the day. He left out his extra clothes, saved his rain jacket and one pair of underwear and warm socks, just in case. He left out the tent of course, but stashed the olive drab ten-by-seven-foot backpacking tarp he had brought as an extra rain fly, thinking that it may come in handy if they did have to weather a storm or stay out all night after all. He left the small lantern, but kept his flashlight and some extra batteries. He kept the Esee Junglas strapped to his pack; it did have substantial weight to it, but he had a feeling that he may need to use it for persuasion, should he find the girls himself. Back in middle school, he had learned about the massacre of Custer and his army at Little Big Horn. The teacher had said that one of the factors that led to their defeat was the fact that in favor of stealth, the men had left behind their swords and other heavy close-combat weapons, but had ended up desperately needing them. Of course, that was a hundred and fifty years ago, and those men didn’t have double stack 9mm pistols at their disposal, and maybe Rambo was a better example of how a silent blade may be a better weapon at times than a gun. Either way, the thought had always stuck with him, and he was wary of going into a potential combat situation without a backup weapon. He swallowed hard, hoping that it wouldn’t come to that. However, he knew that out here, they might not be able to get in contact with the police or forest rangers in time and in that case, it would be up to them. And if the women had indeed been kidnapped, lethal force would probably be the only way to get them back, plain and simple.
He quickly finished packing a few remaining items in his pack and saw that Mike had too. He didn’t know exactly what Mike had packed, but didn’t feel like taking the time to check. Dave supposed he didn’t feel like Mike was much more than a liability anyway. He stuffed the remainder of their gear that they weren’t bringing right now into the two unused packs, closed them up, and put the packs under the cover of a nearby fallen tree. He took a minute to pile a few branches and dead leaves over them, hiding them from view and giving them some protection from the elements until they returned for them.
He pulled out his Ruger and checked that it was loaded. Mike gave him a nervous look. “You think we’ll really have to use that?” he asked, in a tone Dave thought sounded both nervous and condescending.
Dave answered coolly, “We might.” He didn’t feel the need to justify himself.
“Just seems a little extreme to me. Like, I feel like we should find somewhere to call the cops. We shouldn’t go after the girls ourselves. I’m not, like, anti-gun or anything, but it just doesn’t seem like our place.”
“All right, you can use the Jersey method then. When we find the girls, you can shout whatever offensive names come to mind at their attackers and hope for the best. Just don’t break the law by attacking them with a high-capacity sentence. I’m going to do what I can, what I need to do to find them. If we spend two days hiking toward town just to contact the police or the rangers, it could be too late. We need to find them today.” Dave paused before continuing in a softer, darker tone. “And if we do, we’re going to get them back by whatever means necessary.” He holstered his pistol for dramatic emphasis. He normally didn’t like to be this way, preferring to speak softly about his big stick, so to speak, but Mike needed to understand what they were up against, and what they might need to do to defeat it. He wasn’t going to allow Mike to slow him down, and therefore risk the girls’ safety because he wasn’t ‘comfortable’.
Mike frowned. “I don’t like it.”
Dave was near his limit. “You think I do?” It was more of a statement, or even an accusation than a question. “Look, if you want to trek off and go find help, be my guest.” He was now putting on his pack and adjusting it. “I’m going after the girls with or without you.” With that, he turned and started down the trail, truly not caring if Mike was coming or not. He knew that this was no time to let emotion get the better of him, but he was starting to really think that Mike was going to slow him down because he didn’t have the right mindset to get the job done. Mike was too soft, too dependent on others. Dave wished that it was as simple as calling the police and waiting for them to bring back their girls safely, but knew it wasn’t so. He knew the animals that had taken them needed to be stopped as soon as possible before they harmed the girls or left the area. They needed to act fast.
Dave didn’t know what to feel when he heard Mike’s footsteps behind him. His emotional side wanted to turn around and punch him in the face, and not allow him to tag along only to be a liability. However, his practical side knew that even if he was leagues ahead of Mike as far as being well suited for what they had to do, this wasn’t Hollywood and he wasn’t Rambo, and would probably benefit from the help eventually whether he wanted to admit it or not. He didn’t turn and say anything to Mike, who was now trailing him by only a few feet, but didn’t protest his being there either.
When they got to the gravel road, Dave stopped to listen. He didn’t expect to hear anything, but hoped he would anyway. However, Mike was panting so loudly behind him from the fast walking that Dave couldn’t hear anything else. He began walking away from Mike to get a little quiet, but Mike was on his heels again like a pitiful puppy. Dave turned and glared at Mike.
“You mind? I’m trying to listen for any clues.”
“Pardon me, Sherlock,” Mike muttered sarcastically.
Dave had had enough. Usually a pretty level-headed guy, he had been worn too thin by the stress of their situation to put up with any unnecessary shit, and he had no capacity for Mike to mock his efforts to rescue the girls. Before Mike had time to react, Dave had spun on him and brought his right boot up, thrusting it into Mike’s gut. Caught by surprise, the blow knocked him backward off his feet, causing him to come down hard on his back. The pack he was wearing broke most of his fall onto the hard gravel road, but the kick to the stomach robbed him of whatever air was left in his chest, and he coughed violently for breath.
“Dude, what the fuck?” he gasped, clutching his stomach on the ground.
“All right, you little punk,” Dave growled. He was standing over Mike, ready to kick him again, this time in the face if the big kid decided to fight back. “I’ve had enough of your shit. We need to find the girls. Today. Period. It’s not going to be pretty, it’s not going to be fun, and if I have to kill a thousand kidnappers to get the girls back, I will. If you can’t handle that, get the fuck out of here. I don’t need you slowing me down, and I sure as hell don’t need you criticizing me for trying to be a man and save the girls. Is that clear?”
Mike, beginning to catch his breath, glared defiantly up at Dave for a moment, but then his look began to soften, as if his pride had sprung a leak and he was changing his mind about how he felt. He coughed, looked at the ground at Dave’s feet and muttered, “Okay.”
Dave remained stone-faced, but moved to extend a hand for Mike to take and pull himself up, which he took. Mike got back on his feet, and neither of them spoke. Dave was already feeling some regret for letting his anger boil over, not because he felt bad for Mike. However, it looked like they were going to have to work together, and this was not a good start. His little assault, no matter how much Mike had earned it by his inappropriate sarcasm, had definitely undermined any progress as far as a friendly relationship between the two and then some. Still, Dave felt that Mike needed a good kick in the ass, so to speak, to make him wake up and realize that the situation was dire and they needed to act accordingly. Not that Mike didn’t know it was serious, but he hadn’t seemed to g
rasp the fact that it was up to them if anything was going to be done about it, and that required a change of attitude.
“Okay,” Dave said, a little awkwardly. “Let’s start over.”
✽ ✽ ✽
After a short discussion that was substantially more cordial than the previous several, the two set out along the gravel road. Their major question at this point was which way they should follow the road and they agreed to follow it east for two reasons. Well, Dave had two reasons. Mike was convinced that east was the better choice because there was better chance that they’d encounter civilization faster, should they not have success finding the girls. Therefore, they would be able to contact the police or rangers. What Dave hadn’t said was that east was the way the old truck had gone the previous day when they had encountered it and its occupants on this same road further east. He knew that didn’t necessarily mean they were in that direction now, but he thought it wise to head in the direction he had seen them last. Maybe that’s where they lived or had a camp in the forest just outside the boundary. He said a silent prayer, asking God for direction, and although he couldn’t quite explain it, his gut seemed to be telling him to go east. After all, he had learned a long time ago to trust his gut, especially if there was nothing else to listen to.
✽ ✽ ✽
Sandra slowly stirred, keeping her eyes shut a few moments after she was officially awake. She had an awful headache, similar to waking up early after a long night out. She wasn’t laying down, but sitting up with her back against something. She slowly realized that it wasn’t just her head that hurt; her whole body ached, possibly as a result of having slept in the awkward position that she now found herself in.
She opened her eyes slowly, the late afternoon sun blinding her, adding to her discomfort. She turned her head quickly to avoid it, only to find out the hard way that her face hurt, too. Badly. As she looked around at her surroundings, the events from earlier began to dawn on her. She remembered that she and…
Panic overtook her when she realized that she didn’t know where her little sister was. They had been together when those guys showed up. She looked frantically around what appeared to be a small room in a rustic cabin and was relieved to see Jen, fast asleep, slumped in the corner about ten feet away from her. Sandra gasped when she saw that her sister had been gagged with what appeared to be a t-shirt. Sandra moved to get closer to her, but was stopped by restraints she hadn’t noticed until now. Her wrists were tied together behind her back and she had what felt like a rope around her neck. She craned her neck to look up and behind her to find the other end of what was indeed a rope held in place on the wall by a bent-over nail, almost where the wall met the ceiling. She turned to see that Jen was restrained in a similar fashion.
“Jen,” she whispered quietly. Nothing. “Jen!” she repeated, a little louder and with more force. Her sister twitched a little, not awakening but definitely hearing her. Sandra repeated herself one last time, and Jen stirred and awoke. She seemed to find her bearings more quickly than Sandra had and looked alarmingly at Sandra. “What’s going on? Do you know where we are?” Sandra whispered, fear in her voice. Even with Jen gagged, she had to ask.
Jen, who obviously couldn’t speak, at least with any clear enunciation, just shook her head, not so much to answer in the negative, but to tell Sandra to be quiet. She looked terrified.
“What?” Sandra asked, ignoring her sister’s implicated warning.
Just as Jen began to repeat her silent response, both girls heard floorboards creak in the room next to them. They froze in horror, especially Jen, as the door opened. Sandra gasped when she beheld the young man that they had encountered at the creek earlier.
“Well,” he grinned, “I see we’re awake now.”
Chapter 11
Spruce Knob, West Virginia. Present Day.
Dave dropped his pack to the ground with relief and Mike followed suit without complaint. They had been walking hard for almost an hour and it was approaching mid-day. Although Dave really didn’t know what to expect to find, he was disappointed that they hadn’t found anything useful. They had followed the gravel road as it wound east through the mountains, being careful not to overlook any clues that may lead them to the girls. There were no distinct tire markings and thus far, no turn offs. If they had come this way in the first place, then this was still the right track.
Dave was trying to keep his worrying to a minimum, but it was difficult. He knew he had every right to be worried but also, that it wouldn’t help him. The best thing he could do was to keep a clear mind. He thought about how in the book of Exodus, God had sent a pillar of smoke in front of the Israelites while they were crossing the desert out of Egypt to guide them, and wished he had that now. It was scary thinking that the girls might live or die depending on whether he happened to make a certain decision one way or another, their fate basically left to a roll of the dice. He shook that thought from his head, telling himself that even if it didn’t appear to him that there was anything else at play, that didn’t mean there wasn’t. There had to be a higher power, God, involved here somehow. Dave strained to keep the faith and asked in silent prayer, more than once, for guidance and favor.
He and Mike took a quick water break and Mike asked, “So, what now?”
Dave replied, “Keep going, I guess.” He took a long moment to stare in the direction they were headed. “They’ve got to be out here somewhere. I can feel it. They’re here somewhere.”
He thought he saw in his peripheral, the subtle motion of Mike rolling his eyes at that statement and for a moment, Dave felt like standing up and kicking him off the log he was sitting on. Under normal circumstances, a little rude sarcasm certainly wasn’t grounds for violence, especially between family, if that was the right word for it. However, these weren’t normal circumstances and Dave had absolutely no capacity for any of Mike’s bullshit. Still, he knew that another blow, both literally and figuratively, to Dave and Mike’s relationship at this time would only put them at a further disadvantage as far as being able to work together to find the girls, so he tried to let it go and ignore it.
“Come on,” he said to Mike, standing and shouldering his pack. “We have to keep moving. If we keep looking, we’ll eventually find something.”
Mike sighed, rising stiffly to his feet as well and lifting his pack again like it was filled with bricks. Mike looked up and something caught his attention. Dave turned to look for whatever Mike had seen, and it was then that he saw a thin line of chimney smoke in the distance. It was probably only a mile or so away and from the general direction, looked to be a little way up and off the road they were following. Dave smiled to himself. Pillar of smoke, he thought.
“Would you look at that,” he said.
Mike asked, “Do you think that could be a sign? There are bound to be other campers out here besides us.”
“That’s true,” Dave said, “but not that many. There are only so many people that are around here to have taken the girls, so we need to investigate every group we come to. Especially because this is the only one we’ve come across so far.”
Dave began to move back to the road and continue the way they had been going and Mike followed. They walked in silence, the hope that they had found a clue and were literally on the right path to finding the girls giving their stride a little boost. They kept the ‘pillar of smoke’ in their sight. The road wasn’t taking them directly to it, but it was going in that general direction enough to make it worth continuing down it. Then after less than a mile, there was a right turn leading straight toward the smoke. It was rough and looked like a long driveway, or the remains of one. There were definitely tire ruts where trucks or Jeeps traveled, but it was not a maintained forest road by any stretch. If not for the situation they were in, Dave and Mike would have passed right by it, assuming it was an old logging road. Today however, that was not the case and the fact that it was a turn that looked like it would lead them to the first people they had come acros
s all day made it an easy choice.
Dave usually had a unique sense of artistic taste. From an architectural and engineering standpoint, he admired things like bridges, dams, castles, and other structures that, in his opinion, were the positive results of human ingenuity. At the same time however, he despised asphalt, concrete, and other more generic visions of “progress” that to him were just plain ugly and unnatural. He wasn’t some hippie that wanted an electric car and grass growing on top of his high-rise apartment in Seattle, but he also tended to appreciate nature more than an urban environment, whatever could be described as the opposite of nature. He had an artistic appreciation for barns that were leaning but not quite collapsing, concrete that was crumbling with grass growing up through it, and other scenes that, under the right filter, could even look a little creepy. To him, it was a scene of time and nature taking back what was theirs and he loved it.
What he was looking at now, however, gave him an uneasy feeling. The twisted trees with their branches reaching almost deliberately into the roadway, if you could call it that, made him feel like Snow White lost in the forest. It was a weird sensation, given that while he was not immune to human fear, this was an odd scene for him to be weirded out by. Maybe I’m letting my imagination get the better of me, he thought. Or maybe, I’m feeling the presence of evil. Maybe they’re back there.
He was brought out of his pondering by Mike’s voice. “You think we should follow it?”
“Yeah,” was all he said. Dave took a deep breath and started down the trail.
The two started quietly down the trail. Dave kept looking up at the sky in front of them to gauge how close they were based on the rising column of smoke. It was quiet and Dave was trying to not to change that. He’d stop every ten seconds or so to listen for anything that could give them a clue as to what - or who - they were approaching. Neither of them heard any sounds however, and proceeded down the driveway.