Natalie gave a nod, but Kurt’s gaze stayed fixed on Doug. “I can understand that.” He offered a pleasant smile. “Really, I can.”
Doug leaned back, a barely perceptible frown forming. “It’s not like we’re ungrateful,” he said. “You saved our lives.” There was a flatness to Kurt’s expression, the smile a mere overlay, and Doug glanced away quickly. “Or even that we haven’t enjoyed ourselves. It’s been, well, kind of great.”
“All good things must come to an end,” Kurt said.
“Right.” Doug reached for the cup, but it was empty. He licked his lips.
“Scott’s Dash,” Kurt said.
Doug looked as confused as Natalie felt.
“No need for whiskey—Scott’s Dash is a natural soporific that grows in these parts,” Kurt explained. “I dry the leaves and steep them into tea. One mug of that, and you’d better be ready to cart me away.”
Doug gave an impatient jerk of his head. “Great.”
“I should’ve prepared some for this evening,” Kurt added. “As a relaxant. Because there are a few things I need to tell you. Before you make your final decision.”
The frown on Doug’s face became visible. “Look, I told you, man. It isn’t really a decision at all…more like an inevitability. But whatever it is, we’ve made it.”
“Still,” Kurt said agreeably. “Hear me out.”
After a moment, Doug nodded.
“That five-day hike you so blithely referred to?” Kurt said, and again Doug nodded. “It could be a ten-day trip. Or a two. You have no idea whether a single thing I’ve told you since we met is true. Turtle Ridge.” He tilted his head. “What a quaint name for such a toothsome part of the world. Why, it sounds positively made up.”
“Now, wait just a minute—” Doug began.
Kurt held up a palm to stop him. “Not that it matters where you are or how long it would take to get out, because you don’t know which way to go. You’ll wind up as lost as you were the day I pulled your sorry ass out of the woods.”
Natalie felt the earth, their spot in this basin of mountains, suddenly tilt. Reality, as it had presented itself from the moment she returned to consciousness, started to slip away, exposing something else entirely.
Doug’s mouth had stayed open. “You think you can make us stay—keep us here against our will—just by threatening us with getting lost?”
“No,” Kurt said. “I don’t think that. That would be crazy.”
“It sure would,” Doug said. “So then we’re back to—”
Kurt leaned forward. The heat from the fire seemed to have infused him, radiating outward so that it enveloped Natalie and Doug as well. Leaping flames sparked in Kurt’s eyes. “Have the two of you ever wondered why we tread so carefully here, the reason I keep ensuring that you both trail in my footsteps and don’t wander off?”
Doug didn’t speak, turning to look at Natalie, who frowned.
“I’m not surprised if you haven’t,” Kurt went on. “Most people are happily unaware of what takes place around them, content to live as if muffled by an infinite number of layers that prevent them from really seeing, hearing, understanding.”
Doug’s anger was apparent, but Natalie made her expression blank, giving nothing away.
“I didn’t want it to come to this,” Kurt said. “But I suppose I should tell you both something else.” He paused, taking a look around the lake and shaking his head, as if its beauty stood in stark contrast to what he was about to reveal.
“Just come out with it,” Doug said, his tone bristling.
Kurt waited a moment before speaking calmly. “These woods are armed,” he said. “As lethal as if I had actual soldiers. There are so many weapons and traps and pitfalls spread throughout the land that nobody could make his way out without risking maiming, dismemberment, or worse.”
Doug lifted his eyes, and what he felt was starkly visible, as clear as if he’d painted it. Refusal. Denial. “Yeah, right,” he said.
Kurt shrugged. “Try me,” he said. “You won’t get ten yards before winding up in a condition that makes you wish you were only lost.”
Doug stared at him blankly.
Kurt’s lips lifted, not in a grin, but something worse. He extended a hand downward, mimicking the sharp snap of an ankle, then placed his hands around his own neck, pantomiming a choke hold.
The performance made no sense, which was the really frightening part.
It obviously meant something to Kurt.
Natalie reached out and took her husband’s hand, for a new expression had begun to bloom on Doug’s face.
The first mounting hints of horror.
Chapter Fifty-Five
Doug acted without pause.
Natalie watched with her own feeling of horror as he drew back his arm and went to throw a punch, fast and forceful, his fist bunched like the end of a club. At the last second, though, Doug winced, and the blow wavered in midcourse. He would’ve toppled into the fire, propelled by his own momentum, if Kurt hadn’t grabbed him by the wrist.
“I wouldn’t,” Kurt said in a tsking tone, before restoring Doug to his feet. “Your right arm doesn’t seem to have completely healed. You’re not functioning at maximum capacity. And even if you were—”
“You fucking bastard—” Doug began.
Kurt went on as if there’d been no interruption. “—you must see that it’d be a hard fight to win.” He displayed his own muscled arm, appearing genuinely motivated to edify as opposed to preen.
Doug went for Kurt again, using his left arm this time to hook around Kurt’s midriff and drive him toward the fire. Kurt spun out of the way of the flames, grabbing hold of Doug at the last second and yanking him clear.
Doug bent over, panting.
Kurt was barely out of breath. “You won’t best me,” he said. “I’ve prepared long and hard for this fight. In a way, every day since I got here has been preparation.” He cocked his head, long hair flowing. “You think those huts erected themselves? They took muscle to construct—and not the kind young bucks like you build up at the gym.”
Natalie spoke before Doug could do something foolish. He was outmatched by Kurt physically. That much was clear. “Why?” she asked. “Why would you want to keep us here, if we don’t want to stay?”
Kurt appeared to consider the question. Then he leaned over and placed his palm against Natalie’s uninjured cheek. Doug started forward, but Kurt held up his other hand in a cautionary gesture. “I think you know the answer to that,” Kurt told Natalie. “Even if you’re not yet aware that you do.”
“Cut the bullshit, Buddha,” Doug bit out. “We’re not staying.”
Kurt let out a patient sigh. “I’ve laid out the parameters for you as best I could,” he said. “What you do from here is really up to you.” He paused. “But I will say this. Winter’s ugly bite aside, life in my camp can be quite idyllic, as I think you’ve seen. The two of you might want to consider whether you’d rather go on as we have so far, or push me into behaving in a way you might enjoy far less.”
Doug’s mouth hung open, gaping, but Natalie felt the opposite of surprised: needle sharp and focused. Kurt was right. She had sensed all along that something like this was coming. His references to the future, a longer-term stay. Even Kurt’s deep and abiding interest in all the details of their lives. What did he want with them? Why would he wish them to be here? He hadn’t hurt them in any way—the opposite, he’d healed them. And Natalie had never feared the slightest sexual encroachment from Kurt; indeed he seemed sexless, neutered. She thought back to how he had first presented the hut, a place of abode in which he hoped she would feel welcome and tended to, without making a move to come near her. It was as if he merely craved their…company.
The most terrifying desire of all.
Because it went on and on forever, no way to end or
satisfy it.
Neither she nor Doug had responded to Kurt’s threat.
“Plenty of water,” he elaborated. “Enough food to eat. Fires. A roof and walls around you. The sleeping bag. Maybe even some other items—novelty or luxury—that I’ll be able to procure in the manner I’ve described.” He leaned forward, speaking right into Doug’s face. “Now imagine living here without any of those things.”
Silence descended.
Natalie and Doug moved closer together, reaching for each other in the dark.
Kurt looked from one to the other, avid, observing, and Natalie found herself taking a step away. She didn’t want to give anything to Kurt—not one intimate detail of her mind or body or heart—including the fact that she’d turned to Doug for solace.
Kurt led the way back to camp.
The conjoined huts appeared, leaning against each other in the clearing. Kurt went into the larger one but immediately came back out again, holding the clay vessel, freshly filled and brimming with water. He took the lead into Natalie and Doug’s hut, gesturing for them when they lingered outside. In wordless agreement, without exchanging a look, Natalie and Doug entered the smaller structure. They yawned broadly and lay down atop the sleeping bag. After a moment, Natalie wriggled sideways, pulling the fabric over them both.
“Sleep well, you two,” Kurt said, crossing to the opening. “And try not to be angry. We’re going to have fun here together, I promise. Tomorrow we’ll build you a door.” He cocked his head. “Newlyweds need their privacy, am I right?” He strolled out of the dwelling, and the confidence with which he left—administering no warnings, not seeking to erect a barricade—was more chilling than any other exit could have been.
It said that Kurt had nothing to fear.
They wouldn’t succeed in leaving even if they tried.
Chapter Fifty-Six
Doug threw back the sleeping bag and began to pace around the confined space. He barked a laugh. “Out of the frying pan and into the fire, huh?”
“You keep bringing up fried chicken at the worst times,” Natalie muttered. “What if we never taste a bite of those skewers from that amazing Indian place again?” She expected Doug to smile—at the randomness of her association, if nothing else—but instead, he pulled her up to standing, using his good arm, and settled both hands on her shoulders.
“We’re going to taste them again,” he said, and the words sounded like a vow. “And everything else too. You hear me?”
Natalie nodded. Then she said in a small voice, “How?”
“That I don’t know yet,” Doug replied. He strode to the opening and braced his forehead with his arm, taking a look out at the moonlit yard. “You believe him?”
“About the obstacle course or whatever?” Natalie asked. “His traps?”
Doug glanced at her over his shoulder and gave a nod.
“As I said before, Kurt’s not a joking-around kind of guy,” Natalie reflected. “And he didn’t seem worried about leaving us in here on our own.”
Doug turned back to the exit. “That’s what has me convinced too.”
“This is Kurt’s full-time job,” Natalie said. “No…it’s his life. He’s lived out here for years without anything to do except lovingly tend to this hypothetical garden of booby traps.”
Doug gave another nod, jaw clenched so tight it seemed to interfere with speech.
“I don’t know that we stand the best chance if we fight,” Natalie ventured. “Or try to oppose Kurt head-on.”
“What then?” Doug asked, regarding her seriously.
Natalie lifted her shoulders. “Something more…indirect.”
Doug crossed to the clay pitcher and took a swig of water. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, then offered the vessel to Natalie. “Have some,” he said. “We’re going to need our strength for whatever might lie ahead.”
Natalie drank deeply, tilting the jug.
Doug asked, “What kinds of traps do you think he means?”
She licked her lips, catching the last droplets. “I have no idea. Something that would break your ankle? Or choke you? What was he acting out back there?”
Doug shook his head, appearing as lost as she felt. “Tripwire could do some damage. Slice your legs or your neck, depending on how high he placed it. And Kurt could make that himself. He also told me he rescued items from this cabin he stayed in during his first winter. He might have a bear trap for all we know.”
“But not…lots of them,” Natalie said hesitantly. “I mean, no one would have a dozen such things. So what are the chances of us stumbling onto the exact wrong spot? And if we kept a close eye out…” She began to trail off.
Doug grabbed her excitedly. “Right,” he said. “In a way, Kurt undermined his whole strategy, didn’t he? By telling us what he’s done. Now we’re prepared. Just how well could he conceal something big enough to maim?”
“Very well.” Natalie began to backtrack. The prospect Doug was raising, or which she had raised and he’d glommed on to, began to seem reckless and foolhardy. “Kurt’s smart, honey. And able. If he says these woods are dangerous, then they are.”
“Nat.” Doug pulled her closer to him. “We don’t have much of a choice. It’s not like I’m going to kill the guy in his sleep.”
That the suggestion bore uttering out loud said something about the depths to which they had descended. Natalie lowered her head. Options cycled through her mind like cars on a racetrack, each one going nowhere. They could hunker down till a hiker came through, then signal that they needed help. But who knew how long that might take, and the chance of Kurt intercepting any such message was high. Natalie’s sister would get in touch with the proper authorities soon—although their father would dilly and dither, never getting around to it at all—but how successful were search operations way out here? Natalie and Doug were the proverbial needles in a haystack.
“Nat?” Doug urged.
“We need to be quiet,” she said. “What if Kurt’s listening?”
Doug sank down, cinching himself into the sleeping bag while making room for Natalie. He gestured for her to join him.
“What about what Kurt said?” Natalie whispered, letting Doug take her in his arms. “About us just getting lost all over again?”
Doug spoke in a low tone. “We know where the creek is now, and it isn’t just wilderness lore. Every guidebook—even those instructions the DEC puts out with their maps—says that if stranded, you should follow water out.”
Natalie quieted, momentarily satisfied. “We’ll need supplies,” she said suddenly, lifting her head. “Kurt has iodine tabs—he must’ve gotten them from one of the hikers he mentioned—and a clay jug will add weight, but might be worth taking.”
Doug twined his fingers through hers. “Some food too. We don’t know how long this will take, and we’ll need energy to stay ahead of Kurt. I wonder if we can find something portable that won’t spoil right away.”
They lay back, considering. The night grew darker, folding itself around them, stars sputtering out, until their next step appeared out of the gloom.
“We have to get into Kurt’s hut,” Natalie said at last.
Doug remained quiet.
“A guy who basically never leaves us alone, certainly won’t be going anywhere by himself right now, and even if he did, seems to have an almost spooky ability to sense when any part of his territory has been changed or disturbed.”
Silence.
Natalie shifted toward Doug in the dark. “I know how we can do it.”
• • •
Doug sat up, blinking and rubbing his eyes. “Jesus, it’s dark out here. Can’t see a damn thing.” He paused. “What’s your idea?”
Natalie’s own eyes had adjusted, the hut taking shape before her now. She saw the roof made of sticks, the gaps between the walls and the dirt floor, th
e rectangular slit that served as both entrance and exit. Airtight the place was not. She tried to imagine what it would feel like come winter, or even late autumn, when icy air would slither in through each passage and opening, and shuddered.
“We can’t do it straightaway,” Natalie said, her thoughts pick-sharp and focused in the darkness. “We need a little time.”
“For what?” Doug asked.
She turned toward him, burrowing close as his arms slid around her.
The most comforting feeling in the world.
Would she ever have known how comforting it was if she and Doug hadn’t faced such extremity and duress together? If embraces like this had been hurried, peremptory, following long, exhausting days at work, life in the city with all its associated hassles, Natalie and Doug grumpy and wearied by first-world problems, living out their unexamined lives without any appreciation of true hardship?
Natalie spoke quietly in the dark. “There are things we can take care of around here before we try to enter Kurt’s hut. Ways to prepare and also lull him a little, make him think we’ve resigned ourselves to staying.”
“That makes sense,” Doug said.
Natalie lifted herself on one elbow. “Do you think we can get Kurt to show us around the camp a little more? Give us, I don’t know, like a tour?”
Doug frowned.
“Because if we can,” Natalie went on excitedly, “then we’ll basically have a ready-made path out. All we’ll have to do is remember where we walked and follow the same trail tomorrow. Kurt’s not going to lead himself into one of his traps.”
Doug began nodding. “And once we make it past his perimeter, we’ll know we’re home free.”
Natalie lay back down. “Let’s get a little more sleep, we’re going to want to be rested. In the morning, just act like we saw the wisdom of Kurt’s words, and we’ve decided to go along with everything he says. Make our lives here.”
She rolled over, Doug’s arms enclosing her from behind. Silence seeped up from the woods and settled over the tiny dwelling.
Wicked River Page 27