Shifter Mountain

by Annora Soule

  "I think every serious cook who grills has his own secret sauce," Jordan said, matching her smile with his own.

  "Oh, no, my daddy's sauce really was a Big Secret," Kay told him. "One thing's for sure, Jordan Lawless, we got ourselves a lot of secrets here on Scopes Mountain."

  Her voice was sweet and teasing, but hidden in that tease was a warning. Jordan could feel it. She had accepted his financial offer, and he was hoping she was accepting a kind of friendship, but she was very much on edge.

  Jordan glanced around the main room and saw a guitar leaning up against a wall.

  "That also your daddy's?"

  "Maybe it's mine," Kay said.

  "Maybe?" he asked.

  "Not maybe. It's mine. I play a little."

  "Play me something," Jordan said.

  "No way. You're the professional. I'm thinking maybe you should play something for me instead."

  Jordan now felt a wave of confidence. He always was at his best with a guitar in hand.

  "I could play you one of the songs from my new album?"

  "Which song are you doing the music video for?"

  "Well, that's not a song I wrote. I'm doing a cover of my mother's favorite song."

  "Which song is that?"

  "High on a Mountain," he said. "She used to sing it to me when she put me to bed when I was little."

  "Well," she said. "That would indeed be a classic. Let me hear your version of it then."

  Jordan picked up the guitar, strummed a few chords to ensure that it was in tune to his liking, and then settled himself in the most comfortable chair he saw. Kay relaxed on the couch. She was suddenly aware she was about to get a private serenade from the hottest man on the Country and Western music charts, and it made her feel as wobbly as Jello. Good thing she was sitting down.

  Jordan's voice was a clear Tenor with wiggle room just above and below that range whenever he needed it. His falsetto was as strong as his head voice, so he really was capable of delivering on a complicated melody.

  Jordan strummed his guitar and eased into the first verse:

  As I looked at the valleys down below

  They were green just as far as I could see

  As my memory returned oh how my heart did yearn

  For you and the day that used to be

  When he came to the refrain, he looked up to see Kay watching him with wonder. The sun was starting to set outside, and the warm red of sundown streamed in through the windows, setting her countenance in a flattering light and setting off a sparkle in her eyes

  High on a mountain top wind blowing free

  Wondering about the days that used to be

  High on a mountain top standing all alone

  Wondering where the years of my life have flown

  When he finished singing the song, Kay stayed silent for a moment.

  Jordan put the guitar down and stretched back in the chair. It was nice, this moment just between the two of them.

  "Well," she finally said. "I'm guessing that Bluegrass isn't your usual style, but you sure have got that 'high, lonesome sound' down pat."

  It was a real compliment.

  "Thank you. I wasn't so sure about it at first, but it feels right. To put it on the album."

  "Are you hungry?" she asked.

  "I could eat."

  "How about I fry us up some catfish."

  "I wouldn't say no," Jordan said with a grin.

  They closed up the cabin and walked back to Kay's place in the dwindling light. Inside, he noticed a marked difference between her family's home and this cabin where she lived with her husband.

  "I just caught the fish this morning," Kay said, pulling out a brown paper package from the fridge. "So it's good and fresh."

  "You go fishing often?"

  "Ever since I was a kid."

  "Anything I can do to help?"

  "Sure — grab a couple of mason jars and poor us a couple glasses of 'shine from that jug over there in the pantry. You'll know it when you see it."

  "'Shine," Jordan said with a laugh. "Now you're talkin'. This the real deal or is it from the liquor store?"

  "Made it myself."

  "Made it yourself?"

  Now Jordan was impressed. Jordan hadn't had real moonshine since he was a teenager. Knocked him on his ass.

  "Am I gonna go blind?"

  "I know what I'm doin', Mister," Kay retorted. She was busy dredging the catfish in flour, then through an egg batter, then back through some breadcrumbs. She had heated up oil in a skillet that was just about to bubble.

  As she dropped in the fish filets, a small splatter of hot oil caught her on the forearm. Kay realized she was being a little careless. She was behaving a little to relaxed and free. And if there was one thing she most certainly was not, it was free.

  The momentary wince of pain made her remember that her life was not this easy. It was not this good. Her life was not about making dinner for a man she actually liked — a man who serenaded her and who would fetch a glass of moonshine when she asked, rather than the other way around.

  Jordan returned to the kitchen with the jar of moonshine and the mason jars. He poured them both a drink halfway up the edge. Kay turned to look at him over her shoulder, quickly licking a couple of breadcrumbs off her thumb.

  "That sure smells like heaven, Kay," Jordan said. He handed her a glass of 'shine, which she managed with one hand, while her other hand dangled a pair of metal tongs over the quickly frying fish. At just the right time, when the catfish was just the right shade of golden brown, she snatched them from the skillet and set them on a plate lined with paper towels to catch the draining grease. She placed the tongs down on the counter, then turned her full attention to Jordan and to her glass of 'shine.

  "We call it Sugar Fire," she said. "Have you tasted it yet? Once you taste it you know why we call it sugar. And..." she added with a devilish grin..."why we call it fire."

  "Look at you, all proud of your moonshine," Jordan said. "No, I haven't tasted it yet. I was waiting for you."

  She blushed at that.

  "Where's your still?" he asked her.

  "It's back at the other cabin. And I have two stills."

  "How much you sell it for."

  "$25 a gallon," she said. "$15 a pint."

  A dark look crossed his face.

  "How much of that money you get to pocket?"

  "We have a 25/75 majority split with the sellers. Then there's what we have to pay off the police and locals with."

  "I mean," Jordan clarified, "How much do you get. Versus your husband, I mean. Since it sounds like you do all the work."

  Kay cradled her 'shine glass with both hands and looked away, feeling suddenly a bit ashamed.

  "Sorry," Jordan said. "I didn't mean to pry. Look, never-mind that. We need to make a toast. I say we make a toast to your catfish."

  "You haven't tried it yet."

  "But I can smell it, so I already know what I'm in for."

  Kay chuckled. She knew her catfish was to die for, even if Cephas never had complimented her on her cooking.

  "Alright," Jordan said, "how about this: To our business arrangement. And, hopefully, to a new friendship?"

  Kay tensed up at that. She really, really liked this man. And increasingly she had to admit to herself, not in a friendly way. More than friendly. But there could be nothing more than that, and when Jordan Lawless — superstar Country and Western stud — was done here with his music video, and done with Scopes Mountain, he would head back to Nashville, and to whichever gorgeous and more deserving woman, or women, were waiting for him in Music City.

  Kay forced herself to smile in order to put him at ease, and she let Jordan close the distance between them by clinking her mason jar with his. Then they both took a sip.

  Jordan could taste the sugar in the 'shine, there was no doubt.

  He looked at Kay and thought her lips might taste sweet like sugar, too.

  To shake off the thought — which he
knew he shouldn't be having about another man's wife – he took another sip from his glass, and then he tasted the fire, too.

  "There's cinnamon in this?" he asked.

  "You can't ask a woman to give up the secret to her moonshine!" Kay chastised him. "I told you, Jordan Lawless, we've got secrets on this mountain."

  "Yeah, I know you do," Jordan said. He grinned slyly.

  "Maybe a little ginseng, too?"

  "How — how did you know about the ginseng?"

  "Where do you get it from?"

  "The holler where you're filming. Ginseng grows there. All over the place."

  Suddenly, Kay felt a cramp and clutched her side.

  "Are you okay?" Jordan asked, immediately concern.

  "It will pass," she gasped. She had still not fully recovered, it seemed, from the other night.

  When she saw Jordan looking at her with such caring and concern, she felt a wall go up around her heart. It was almost more painful than the cramping, to be the recipient of the kindness of a man, which was nothing she had ever been used to.

  "I — I had a miscarriage recently," she confessed.

  Jordan paused. He really had no idea what to say about something like this.

  "I'm sorry – are you really okay? Maybe you should sit down?"

  "No, I'm fine. It's fine. It...wasn't meant to be."

  Jordan felt awkward.

  "Dinner's ready," Kay said to distract them both from the morbidity. She began to order him about in a good-natured fashion.

  "Refill the glasses with some more 'shine," she said, "and there's a pitcher you can fill with water and set on the table. Silverware's in the drawers, plates in the cupboard."

  "Yes, ma'am," Jordan said, happy to do her bidding.

  And then Kay realized just that — she had this man actually doing her bidding! For a moment — just for tonight — she was queen of her kitchen and had a willing man by her side.

  Halfway through dinner, Jordan's mood turned inexplicably dark, although he tried to keep things upbeat.

  Whoever Kay's husband was, he did not deserve this woman, and Jordan wasn't sure he'd be able to leave Scopes Mountain without settling that matter himself. He had never felt possessive about a woman, but he was starting to feel this way about Kay. He wanted to protect her and love her, and he was thinking he might be driven to do whatever it took to make her feel the same about him.

  Jordan Lawless had no idea how sad his singing had made Kay feel earlier that day back in the other cabin. As she listened to the lyrics of High on a Mountain, she saw the future years of her life fly by, assuming Cephas didn't put her in her grave before she turned 30.

  If she did indeed live, Kay knew Cephas would never really let her go, even if he despised her. And she would grow old, and sadder and sadder, stuck and alone on Scopes Mountain. And she would remember the short time she spent with Jordan Lawless.

  As the second verse in the song went, so she in her old age would think back about this man:

  Oh I wonder if you ever think of me

  Or if time has blotted out your memory

  As I listen to the breeze blow gently through the trees

  I'll always cherish what you meant to me

  Kay believed that her life was destined to end in one of two ways: In violence and destruction, or in a withering, empty and unavoidable loneliness.

  Chapter 7

  After dinner, Jordan walked back to the other cabin in the dark, flashlight in hand. Kay seemed hesitant about it, but couldn't tell Jordan what she was really afraid of. So she watched him from the window until he was out of sight, and then hoped beyond hope that Cephas still wouldn't be showing up anytime soon.

  About halfway down the dirt path, Jordan's cellphone rang. He was amazed that Scopes Mountain had cellphone service, this high up.

  He looked at the caller ID and saw that it was his mother's friend Andrea.

  "Hello?"

  "Jordan, hey."

  "Andrea, what's up?"

  "Where are you at?"

  "Well, actually, I am up on Scopes Mountain. We got here this morning, found the perfect spot to shoot the video, and I'm staying here overnight. A crew should be up here in a day or two."

  Andrea was silent for a moment on the other end.

  "That's, uh, that's great..." she said. "So everything's okay up there?"

  "Why wouldn't it be?"

  "Have you tracked down your kin yet?"

  "Uh, no, there don't seem to be any Lawless folk around here anymore. So I'm told, anyway."

  "Where are you right now, exactly?"

  "Well, I'm walking through the woods toward a cabin belonging to the woman who owns the property where we are filming."

  "By yourself?"

  "Yes, ma'am."

  Silence.

  "Andrea?"

  "How are you feeling?"

  "What do you mean, how am I feeling? I guess it's a little weird to be here, but it's okay, really."

  "Um, that's not what I meant. I know...I know this sounds weird...but how are you feeling physically? Have you felt sick at all?"

  Jordan stopped in his tracks.

  "Andrea, what's going on here? Why do you sound all weird?"

  As Jordan talked, suddenly he thought he saw a shadow move out of the corner of his eye. Must be the night playing tricks on him. He wasn't used to being this far from the city at night. The only light aside from his flashlight belonged to the moon and the stars.

  "Jordan," Andrea said, "I'm at a real loss here. Your mother swore me to secrecy. And you'd think I was crazy if I told you everything. Hell, I thought your momma was crazy when she told me everything. You should not be on that mountain, Jordan. Bad shit happens on that mountain."

  "What kind of bad shit?"

  "You know what the locals call it? In the surrounding area? They call it...they call it 'Shifter' Mountain."

  "So I've heard. Like skinwalkers. Maybe Native American, mythological type stuff."

  Again, another shadow shot past Jordan. This time, he started feeling really uneasy.

  "Look, my friend Jimmy is a state trooper," Jordan told Andrea. "He's the one who came up with me today. He had a spot in mind. And, yes, he warned me that this mountain had a bad reputation. That hikers and campers won't come up here. But he knew I was determined, so he helped me out."

  "You still haven't answered my question," Andrea said. "Has anything weird happened?"

  Jordan thought again about the incident with the Hellbender, with his hand turning to stone. But that was just in his mind. He'd be smart NOT to tell Andrea about it.

  "Look, quite frankly, some of these people seem like they might be criminals, Andrea. Real backwards type people, from what I can see. They sure don't treat their women too good, so now I get why my mother had to get the hell away from here. But we've got a real beautiful spot for the video. When we wrap it up in a few days, I'm done here."

  Andrea sighed on the other end of the phone.

  "Look," Jordan said, reaching the cabin. "I'm about to go inside and get some sleep. Don't worry about me. I'll be okay here. And about this skinwalker stuff, seriously, don't be so superstitious."

  "Jordan —"

  "I don't want to know, Andrea. I need a good night's sleep, not a head full of creepy horror stories that aren't even true. I don't need to be up all night spooked out about nothing."

  "Just be careful. And if anything does happen, you call me right away."

  "I will do exactly that," Jordan promised.

  When the call ended, Jordan went to open the front door of the cabin, but found it locked when he and Kay had left it unlocked before.

  Well this is a pain in the ass, he thought.

  He jiggled the doorknob in vain, hoping maybe it was just stuck.

  That's when he heard the growl. It was low, coming from nowhere and everywhere at once. For the third time that day (now night) the hair on the back of his neck stood up. He turned and scanned the surroundings with his fl
ashlight. On the second pass, he definitely caught some eyeshine. There was a creature lurking not far away in the dark, watching his every move. A second pass with the light caught a second pair of eyes. Whatever was out there, there were two of them.

  He turned to kick the door, to try to bust it open, but it still would budge. He could break a window, but it wasn't always as easy to climb through shards of glass as it looked in the movies. He scanned the porch for a heavy enough object to get the job done.

  Then he heard a roar.

  When turned back around, he saw two black creatures walking slowly toward him on all fours. When they got close enough, by the light of the moon he realized these were two black panthers.

  Jordan was totally at a loss for what to do. A gun would have come in handy, but he had none. And he had no idea what kind of advice a wildlife expert might give someone who was confronted by two aggressive big cats.

  At this point, he should have grabbed the rocking chair on the porch in order to hurl the whole thing through a window. The panthers probably would follow him into the cabin, but he'd have a chance to find something — a gun, a knife, anything — that could be of use.

  The panthers kept their sights on him, but so far did not come any closer. He had no idea what they wanted, other than maybe dinner, but if that was the case, shouldn't they have pounced on him by now. Something told him these panthers were not behaving normally, even though he had no knowledge or basis for making that kind of assessment.

  Then the two panthers looked past him and upward. He realized they were looking up at the roof of the cabin.

  So he, too, turned to look up. But he didn't have the clear view that the panthers had. What the hell was on the roof? He didn't dare step down off the porch closer to the panthers to get a better look.

  In a moment, it turned out he didn't have too. He heard a third roar, coming from above, which made it clear there was a third panther on the roof.

  Three friggin' panthers!

  Talk about being outnumbered. A surge of adrenaline coursed through Jordan, but instead of running for safety, finally busting the cabin window, he yelled at them.

  "Whoever the fuck you are, come down off that roof!"

  The two panthers on the ground froze, their ears perking up. They took a couple of steps back away from Jordan.