Faithful Shadow

by Howard, Kevin J.

  “Say again Rita, your voice is breaking up, over.” Joe released the button and held the speaker to his ear.

  “I’m about seven miles west of West Thumb and we’ve got a missing fireman, over.”

  “I copy. I’m on my way, over and out.”

  “Wait, hold up.” Stew held out his hands, shaking his head. “You’re taking off?”

  “We’ve just spent the last hour and a half walking back and forth through the woods for two people who are probably fine and dandy. Now I have a fireman that’s legitimately missing.”

  “So our two friends aren’t as important as one fireman?”

  “That fireman is working his ass off to put out a fire that was probably started by some punk ass kid like yourself, taking it upon themselves to have a fire where they aren’t allowed.” Joe raised his voice and pointed down at the fire pit.

  Stew tightened his fists and stepped forward, but Kelly and Richard held him back. Joe saw his advance and pointed at his chest, warning him with a single glare not to come any farther.

  “I’d listen to your friends and cool it, Stewart. Don’t forget that this is a National Park and you’re speaking to a ranger.” Joe turned and got into his truck. “I suggest you all go back to Old Faithful and stay put, come back in the morning and fill out those forms if your friends haven’t returned,” Joe yelled out the window as he backed up.

  “Ranger, my ass,” Stew mumbled under his breath, his blood boiling. “More like a drunk!” The last he yelled, tossing the words from his mouth directly into Joe’s open window.

  They waited anxiously as they saw the ranger’s brake lights come on, glowing red in the fading light of the day, but he released the brakes and drove off. Kelly and Richard stepped back and waited as Stew took long, slow breaths till he’d gotten his temper under control. He turned toward them with an apologetic face, knowing he wasn’t helping the matter.

  “What do you want to do?” Stew asked them, looking up at the black clouds of smoke above and the brilliant red light from the setting sun. He hadn’t realized the day had slipped by.

  “If it’s okay with you two, I’d like to walk down that trail and try over that way. At least till it’s dark.” Kelly looked at them with her sad eyes and knew she’d have company.

  “Yeah, I’ve got some flashlights in the glove box.” Stew ran off toward the jeep, more than willing to put in a few more hours. Even if that drunk excuse of a ranger didn’t think his friends were worth the time.

  14

  Marco was agitated. Enraged even. He’d gone through such a shitty day, waking up to find two people he knew had disappeared right out from under his nose, then rushing back to Old Faithful to get to work on time, only to get called in to have a one-on-one meeting with his stupid ass supervisor. Mr. Parsons was probably the most pathetic excuse of a man he’d ever seen. He was as thin as a rail and balding terribly despite the fact he was only thirty-one years old. Worse was how he combed the few remaining hairs over the top of his scalp as if it could possibly hide his bulbous head. At least Marco shaved it off. His glasses were thick and he had a slight slur. The only reason a spineless wimp like him was given the title of supervisor was because he’d been there for three years straight and therefore had seniority. But what bothered Marco more than all that was how he had to sit there and take his words of encouragement. He had to feel small and helpless as this loser sat on the edge of his desk and told him to be more diligent, to do his job with pride. Pride? He was a busboy for crying out loud. But luckily it had been just a pep talk, no disciplinary action was taken against him. So Marco was more than willing to meet Janice and Sonia at the employee bar after their shifts.

  He’d been the first to arrive, getting out of work early due to a complete lack of customers. He ordered a beer and took a seat in a booth at the back of the room, watching the other employees play darts or shoot pool. One employee in particular—some blonde with an impressive rack, bending over a pool cue—caught his immediate attention. With wide eyes and a slack jaw, he watched her slide the stick through her fingers as she aimed, finally pulling back to smack the ball.

  “Looking for a game?” Janice stepped between him and the blonde, her arms folded. “You’re like a dog.”

  “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  Janice shook her head and took a seat, purposely sitting between him and the pool table. A moment later Sonia walked in, stopping by the bar to order a pitcher of beer for her and her friends. She grabbed the pitcher and the stack of cups and carried them back to the table, wondering if Marco would surprise her with at least an attempt to get up and help her. But she wasn’t shocked to see he hadn’t moved. Sonia set the pitcher and cups between them and poured herself a glass, needing it so very badly after such a long day. Two customers had come into the shop, only two. They were both well into their seventies and barely ordered anything. So she’d pretty much had the entire day to just sit there and think about her friends.

  “All I can do is think about the last thing she told me,” Janice told them, staring over Marco’s shoulder without seeing him, lost in thought. “She said she was late.”

  “For what?” Marco poured himself a beer.

  “What the hell do you think?” Janice smacked him in the shoulder. “Her fucking period.”

  “She was pregnant?” Sonia’s mouth dropped, shocked to find out that mousy bitch was even having sex, let alone having unprotected sex. “From who?”

  “God only knew.” Janice read their faces and nodded, her eyebrow raised. “You both thought she was a little nerdy nun, didn’t you?”

  They both nodded.

  “That girl made me look like a prude. She probably stepped out with just about half the guys here, except Doug of course.”

  “Maybe that’s what happened.” Marco got jittery in his seat, running the thought through his mind to set it out in a plausible string of events. “Maybe Doug was so obsessed with her that when he found out she was pregnant, he just snapped.” Marco hit the table with his beer, quieting down for a moment as people around them lost interest. “One of those things where if he couldn’t have her no one could.”

  “Or maybe he couldn’t take the fact that she’d spread her legs for just about everyone except him,” Janice added.

  “Or maybe you’re both just totally full of shit. There’s no evidence Doug dragged her out into the woods and butchered her.” Sonia was getting angry, not wanting to speculate over the numerous possibilities without a single shred of proof. At this rate it was only a matter of time until they mentioned an alien abduction.

  “Finally.” Marco smiled as Stew, Richard, and Kelly entered the bar.

  Stew and Richard stopped at the bar while Kelly took a seat at the table, heaving a deep sigh after such a long day. She could tell from their eager faces that they weren’t going to allow her a single moment of rest before making her fill them in on the events of the day. She’d just reached the part where Joe had left to hunt for the missing fireman when Stew and Richard took their seats.

  “That ranger is such an asshole!” Stew yelled, not caring who heard him.

  “What about after he left, Kelly? Did you find anything?” Janice was eager to hear some good news. She didn’t want to have to sleep alone in the cabin, looking over at an empty bed while knowing Rowena was out there wandering the woods, if not buried in some shallow grave.

  “We looked all around the site, but there was no sign of them.” Kelly leaned in close. “The ranger found a single drop of blood on Doug’s sleeping bag, up by where his face would be.”

  “Pudgy guys have acne. Maybe he’d popped a zit or something.” Marco grimaced, not really wanting to picture Doug lying there…oozing.

  “Maybe Doug isn’t the mad butcher like you all thought.” Sonia noted, tapping the table with her index
finger. “It was his sleeping bag with the dab of blood on it.”

  “What the hell is all this shit?” Stew downed the glass of beer and poured himself another. “You’re all acting like Perry Mason or some shit. What the hell does it matter?” Stew stood from the table and headed back to the bar, ordering himself something much stronger. He took a shot and ordered another, then another.

  “He’s taking it pretty hard,” Sonia informed them of the obvious. “I think he really liked Doug.”

  Marco let a single laugh escape his lips, instantly killing the humor as he saw all three of them were scowling at him. He hadn’t sealed the deal with Janice yet, and was damned if a few immature gestures were going to sour his chances. He’d worked far too hard to miss out on such an opportunity.

  “So what do we do next?” Janice felt lost.

  “I’m going to head out tomorrow morning before work and do some more searching.” Richard looked at Kelly and she nodded. “We’ll both go and we’ll let you know if we find anything.”

  They all nodded and took a drink, nursing their beers for the next hour. Stew came back to the table, bumping into it before taking a seat. His face was damp with sweat and he looked ready to fight, searching the room for anyone who might fit the bill, maybe some drunken male employee looking at him the wrong way; anything to channel his anger.

  “That stupid bastard!” Stew yelled, his voice carrying over the music.

  “I think that’s our cue.” Sonia stood, tugging at Stew’s arm. “Come on, you can take out some of your aggression with me.”

  Stew stood from the table, liking the idea. Kelly gave Sonia a small wave and watched her pull Stew out the door. She liked seeing them together, thinking that they complemented each other well. One of those cute couples where everything is different. He’s tall while she’s short. He’s black while she’s white. From what she’d heard, they were both extremely goodhearted.

  Stew was angry at himself for allowing something like this to happen under his watch, as if it were entirely his fault. Sonia felt similarly, that if she hadn’t had so much beer or if she’d just stayed awake that much longer, it wouldn’t have happened. Pure could of, should of, would of, but what can you do?

  “Would you do me a huge favor?” Janice leaned in close to Marco, speaking directly into his ear. “Will you stay with me tonight in my cabin?” she asked with the saddest expression, eyes wide and teary.

  “You bet I will.” Marco almost knocked her out of the booth as he scooted out, extending his hand to her.

  “I just need someone to lay with me. No sex.”

  Marco’s face looked as if someone had tied heavy ropes to all his nerve endings and pulled down, his smile and beaming eyes falling into a frown as if stuck in an emotional landslide.

  “I have a terrible headache.” Janice read his expression easily. “Just not tonight, okay?”

  Marco took her hand and perked up. Not tonight was a phrase that meant it would be imminent down the road. Besides, maybe he could milk a little action out of her anyway.

  “What do you say, tiger? Are you up for some company as well?” Kelly leaned into Richard, nestling herself beneath his strong arm. “I know I am.”

  Richard had been his usual self, playing the gentleman. He helped her up, paid the tab for their group, and escorted her back to her cabin. Sonia was staying with Stew, giving them the entire place to themselves. Neither one of them liked fooling around in Richard’s cabin. His roommate was an annoying nineteen-year-old cuss from Texas who stayed up late every night reading. So Richard and Kelly took full advantage of this alone time, undressing in a flash and jumping right into sex. The release was exactly what they needed, to put their minds somewhere outside of what was happening and to just focus on pleasure.

  Richard fell asleep shortly thereafter, but Kelly remained awake, lying perfectly still on her side with her bare back pressed against his bare chest. She liked to lie as still as possible to feel his heartbeat through her back, such a calming sensation. She wasn’t the stereotypical woman that needed to be held and cuddled, but every so often she enjoyed it. Being wrapped up in his arms, made to feel safe. She closed her eyes and slept, knowing that at least she wouldn’t wake up somewhere else. Not while wrapped up in his strong, caring grip.

  15

  Joe had a great first impression of Dale. He thought he was a very good leader, someone his men looked up to. Mostly, Joe admired his commitment to his men. Dale would stay out there all night and the following day to comb the woods if he had to; whatever it took to find out what happened to Paul. Joe had arrived a little late from the previous investigation, thankful to be rid of those punks. He’d pulled up behind Andy’s truck and hurried across the road and down the shoulder where the search line was almost a half mile into the woods. The line itself was more than fifty people wide made up of rangers from all over the park, firemen, and even a few of the older employees from Lake. He put on a respirator and joined the line, searching anything and everything; looking through small bushes for a possible hole, or the trunks of trees. Who knew what might turn something up? Sadly, Joe knew this was most likely not going to turn up anything at all. The smoke from the fire made it all but impossible to see a few feet in front of their faces.

  “We’re going to have to call it in,” Joe informed the searchers with a heavy heart. “It’s just getting too dark. And with this much smoke, I’d hate to risk losing someone else.”

  Joe saw their spirits deflate as the line broke up and they all headed back to their cars. He’d only been a part of the search line for an hour, but it had been going on since noon. Back and forth, moving a foot or two to the right, tapping the ground for holes. All that searching and they’d found nothing. Joe paused on the walk back, taking a moment to watch the firemen from Dale’s unit gather in a huddle.

  “Okay, here’s the situation.” Dale lowered his hands as he caught his unit’s attention. He was out of breath, exhausted. “We’ve been ordered up north to secure the Inn. We’re going to break off from here and move up there ASAP. Now I’ve been assured by the rangers that the search for Paul will continue at first light. I know you all want to come back, but we still have a job to do.” Dale’s eyes moved from face to face, all of them looking down. None of them could stomach walking away from one of their own. Never leave a fallen man behind. It was as true on the battlefield as it was for a fireman. This was their battlefield. “Dismissed.”

  Dale stood as his men broke off, heading up the hill to get into their vehicles. Joe watched him, a proud man standing with his hands on his hips. He could sense the sadness in him, even if his own men couldn’t.

  “Aren’t you going with them?” Joe asked as he walked over.

  “No. Our orders were for this unit to start clearing and spraying the north western portion of the blaze threatening the Inn, and that’s exactly where they’re going.” Dale looked Joe in the eyes. “I can’t leave one of my men out here.”

  Joe nodded, knowing from what he’d seen in Dale’s eyes that nothing he could say would convince him to leave.

  “Do you have enough flashlights?”

  Dale nodded, patting the bag slung over his shoulder.

  “Just be safe. I don’t want to have to come back tomorrow looking for you as well.”

  Joe turned and headed up the embankment, pausing a moment for Rita to pass by. He gave her a wave and headed across the street back to his truck. Once inside, he rolled down the window and watched as Dale headed into the smoke. A few more feet and only the beam from his flashlight was visible. Then he was gone. Joe hoped to God he took his words seriously. Too many people had gone missing in the last few days. It was as if the fire itself was reaching out to them, pulling them to their deaths. When it was finally extinguished, would they find a dozen or more smoking corpses? He shivered at the thought. With the road bar
e, save for his and Dale’s trucks, Joe leaned to the side and opened the glove box. Waiting for him inside like a good, dependable friend, was his flask. Hardly a flask, the amber glass of the antique syrup bottle made for the perfect disguise. It wasn’t all that uncommon for rangers to take meals in their trucks, so at casual glance, it would be nothing more than syrup. Of course, he knew better.

  He ran his thumb absently over the maple leaf etched into the glass. Had it really gotten so bad? That punk ass kid from today had smelled it on his breath. Even under the mouthwash and the gum. Maybe he’d just spilled some on his uniform or his skin. But the excuses wouldn’t do. He knew what he was. When you started to refer to a glass bottle as your friend, or when you crave the warmth of the drink, you had a problem. Still, he didn’t need to worry about it now. He unscrewed the small black cap and took a drink, closing his eyes as he swallowed the liquid. The booze was so cheap it tasted like lighter fluid. But he was attached to it now, stuck with it like a mosquito bite that would eventually go away if he could just stop scratching; but he couldn’t. The one hundred and fifty proof, brain killing fuel for depression had been there on the night his son had left, hiding in the cupboard. It had also been there when he received the news of his son’s death. Just as it was here for him now.

  Joe screwed the cap back on and slipped the bottle into his pants pocket. He started the truck and made a wide U-turn across the road, moving quickly in case a car was coming around the corner. An accident was not exactly the way he’d planned on ending his day, but neither was heading back to that little shit’s campsite. But there had been something so odd about the whole situation, small details that set it apart from the common disappearance he was trying to convince them it was. The little drop of blood kept pulling him back, beckoning for attention. It would have been a slightly different story if he’d found it on the woman’s sleeping bag, still highly suspicious but a little more explainable; he could have held a rag of poison to her mouth or hit her in the face before dragging her off. That obviously hadn’t been the case.