A Forest of Corpses

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A Forest of Corpses Page 13

by P. A. Brown


  God, maybe even thousands. Maybe more. Alex shot me a warning look and I shrank back into the shadow of a cluster of firs.

  I knew enough not to speak.

  Over the sporadic sound of a motor that sounded too loud to be a car I could make out another, more familiar sound.

  Running water. One of the ubiquitous creeks that criss-crossed the Matilija wilderness was nearby.

  Alex heard it, too. Still without a word he led us toward the sound. Maybe he figured where there was water there was likely to be more growth to help conceal us. Conceal us from the owner of the truck and the illegal grow-op.

  With less than a foot between us we slipped over the lip of a steep, vine and tree clogged ravine. Half sliding, half stumbling, we made our way down to the bottom. The rush of fast moving water grew louder and I remembered hearing 153

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  that snow fall in the mountains had been higher than normal the last winter, so run offs would have been high. Like the other streams we had crossed, that meant more dead falls created by downed trees to trip unwary feet.

  But this ravine was far worse than the last few we had traversed, and I knew where the trees that had been removed from the clearing above us had been put. The ravine was riddled with solid trunks that had water backed up behind them, creating treacherous pools that would have roots ready to tangle our feet, and enough current to snatch us away and sweep us into those dead falls. Once caught it would be damn hard to pull free. Drowning would be fast when you got knocked around and battered by limbs and stone. I began to wonder what was more dangerous, the rushing water below us or the men I knew would be armed behind us.

  I wanted to tell Alex we needed to be careful, but I didn't dare speak. He wasn't rushing though, and for that I was thankful. I tried not to, but the sense of urgency I felt from Alex scared me and it was hard to move slowly when the dangers behind us were unknown.

  My foot slipped on a tangle of ivy and roots nearly sending me headlong down the slope. Only a last minute grab at a leaning aspen kept me from rolling down the treacherous incline. The thin trunk bent under my weight but held, and I ended up on my rump on stony hard ground, slamming into it so hard my teeth clicked and I nipped my tongue, barely suppressing a yelp of pain.

  Finally, we reached the bottom and crouched on the damp, but relatively smooth, surface of a large, glacier-carved 154

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  boulder. On three sides water foamed and sucked as it hurried down the mountain on its hazardous way to the ocean hundreds of miles away. I watched a branch twist and bob in the current a few feet from my feet. It finally broke free and swirled away, only to be caught up by another submerged branch.

  Alex looked back at me. The look we traded said it all. We needed to get over that rushing water. The other side represented more safety than this side did. But how to navigate the chaotic, fast-flowing water?

  I looked up at the vault of cerulean above us. Clouds dusted the deepening blue of a mid-afternoon sky. We might have five hours of daylight left. We sure as hell couldn't be down here when night fell.

  We backtracked to the shore and clambered over ground constantly shifting under our feet, slimed by algae and pea sand made unstable by the fast moving water. We were soon soaked to the knees, shivering and beginning to tire. But a quick look back showed us the way was clear. Maybe we hadn't been spotted.

  Ahead, a natural bridge of stones led us finally to the other side.

  Alex waited for me to come up beside him. "Check your phone. You got a signal?"

  I did as ordered. The phone was seeking...seeking, but couldn't lock on a signal. Not surprising. Disappointing, but not surprising. We were too far down in a ravine surrounded by rock below and trees above, to pick up anything.

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  "We have to keep going," Alex said. His whole body was tense, only his eyes never stopped moving, continually scanning, looking everywhere for signs we'd been spotted.

  That we were being hunted. "Keep trying the phone. As soon as you get a signal give them our coordinates, tell them to move fast."

  I nodded and slipped the iPhone into my shirt pocket, where it would hopefully stay dry and I could check it easily.

  Alex spotted it first. Maybe it was his cop eye that let him see the anomaly. He grabbed my arm and pointed downstream on the side we had just left.

  "Hold on, I need to go take a look at that."

  "What is it?"

  "I don't know. But I want you to stay here while I check it out."

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  Spider

  Ice water squelched in my Merrells as I retraced my path back over to the other side. Jason was right on my heels, ignoring my orders to stay put. I'd deal with him and his disobedience later. Right now I had to investigate what I had spotted. I wasn't exactly sure what I had seen: a splash of color out of place, an odd unnatural shape. Jason might be good at finding the things that did belong, but I'd spent enough time in the forest now to see things that didn't.

  I kept continuously scanning everywhere, my gaze making passes over both sides of the stream, and back the way we had come. Back toward the concealed grow-op we'd stumbled upon. I hadn't wanted to believe it. I knew a couple of them had been found in recent years, both run by Mexican cartel connected locals. I remembered the shot the bikers reported hearing. Could it have been linked to that? There were other hikers up here. What if someone else stumbled on this? I never met a drug dealer who wasn't heavily armed. Why would this bunch be any different?

  The midday air was somnolent, heat shimmered off the sun-baked rocks, shards of light danced off the restless water straight into the back of my eyes. I wished I could pull out my sunglasses, but I didn't want to risk missing anything by cutting down my sight. So I squinted and endured peering through my regular glasses. I glared back at Jason, reminding him he was supposed to stay back.

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  "What is it?" Jason repeated. "I don't see—" Then he did.

  "Is that a shirt?" His voice rose.

  Plaid, red and blue, which had stood out from the green background as something alien. I was leading us now, my protective instinct kicking in. I didn't want Jason anywhere near this until I knew what 'this' was. Since I could hardly send him to the other room, I had to be satisfied to have him behind me. I waved him to stay and this time he obeyed.

  Maybe he was getting the same uneasy feeling I was.

  A side pool of motionless water had been cut off from the faster moving stream by a twist of land and a pile of fallen branches that had washed down over the spring thaw and been caught up by a pile of rocks. Between the rocks and the fallen branches, an effective natural dam had formed. Like the pool we had played around in earlier in our hike, this water ranged from a few inches to knee deep in spots. Dark shapes darted through the depths. Trout? What other kinds of fish existed up here? I stepped closer to the mass of tree branches.

  I could clearly make out the shirtsleeve now. It looked very similar to the one I was wearing, straight out of L.L.

  Bean's closet. I skirted the deepest part of the quiescent pool, testing the ground in front of me. Stones shifted underneath my feet; I slid, caught myself and pressed forward. Mud and rotting leaves squelched and gurgled under my already soaked feet. Over the whoosh of running water and distant birdcalls I heard a familiar sound. Familiar, but out of place here. But then everything was out of place to me in this alien 158

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  world. I paused to listen. A low, steady seething of sound that seemed to fit with the lazy, rising heat.

  Jason heard it at the same time I realized what it was.


  "What's that sound?"

  "Flies," I said, a ripple of ice racing down my spine. "Stay back—"

  My foot fell through a tangle of brush and I went to my knees. Something viscous exploded under my hands when I tried to break my fall. The stench that burst out made my stomach lurch and my throat close over a gag that threatened to spill my guts on the already reeking mess under me.

  I threw myself backward, yelling at Jason, "Get back! Don't come near me."

  "What is it? That smell... Oh God, Alex—" Panic and nausea filled his voice. He spun away and vomited into the water.

  I wanted to join him, but I had to be professional.

  Scrambling to my feet I backed away from the mass of decaying flesh, still mostly concealed by the snarled mess of branches and leaves that had formed a dense mat piled over the corpse. A grinning skull peered up at me through maggot eaten flesh. It was human.

  "Get back!" I shouted again. This time Jason obeyed. I caught a brief glimpse of his pale face then I turned back to my discovery. It was easy to fall into investigative mode.

  Easier than having to face the reality of what I had found. My mind started flashing through what I needed to do. First I had to clean my hands off; I didn't dare touch anything with this noxious mess on me. Then I had to figure out where we were 159

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  so we could find our way back when I got the authorities involved. Jason would help me there. I was now thankful I had given him that iPhone. It had both a GPS and a compass.

  Once I was sure I could get back here, we needed to secure whatever evidence might be lost if I left it here—once I decided what that was. I spared Jason another glance. His face was still colorless and when our eyes met we both knew the truth. Our vacation was officially over. Backing away from the corpse I crouched down over a pool of clear water where I dipped my hands and arms in, washing until I was sure it was all off. I knew the stench would stay with me for days. Might always linger, though that would be psychological more than physical.

  "I need you to use your GPS to tell me exactly where we are. Can you do that?" I spoke slowly to break through his trauma. I had to repeat it twice more before his eyes cleared and he focused on me.

  "S-sure. What do you want me to do?"

  "I have to be able to get back here with the rangers.

  They'll have to walk in like we did. Or find how they got that truck or whatever it was in." I looked around, hoping for what? A clearing big enough to land a 'copter? Good luck. This place was as inaccessible as they came. Nothing but a human on foot was getting in here. "Can you do that, Jason?"

  Finally he nodded and turned away. He fumbled out his GPS and with trembling fingers began working the instrument. Finally he was shaking his head. "I'm still not getting a signal."

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  I had no way to mark the site or cordon it off so I had to hope no one else would stumble across it before I could get back with the rangers and hopefully a coroner. But I had to think of the whole area as a crime scene, which meant I had to do a grid search. Normally I would have several officers assisting me. At least we had our digital camera. I pulled my pack off and opened the pocket holding the Canon.

  Before I did anything else I checked how many images were left, satisfied when I saw it was still good for well over a thousand. That would serve my purpose.

  Then I had to find something to collect samples of anything I didn't want to leave to the elements while I went down the mountain. That was going to present a problem...then I thought of the bear safe and knew it just might do the trick.

  I looked over to where Jason hovered, doing his best not to look while he waited to see if he could help me. Brave boy.

  Not many people could sit around like he did, knowing a rotting corpse was practically under their feet.

  I stepped toward him. He looked up in alarm, then calmed when I stroked his arm. "I need the safe," I said. "We need to take some samples back in case the site gets compromised more before I can get back here."

  "The safe—you want to put what in it?"

  "I swear to you, I'll buy us a new one, but I have to do this."

  "I-I understand." He swallowed. "Is there anything I can do?"

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  "Just get me the safe and secure our coordinates. I don't want any problems finding the place when I come back with the rangers."

  I took another step closer to him. I slipped my arm around him and held him while he buried his face against my neck.

  "I'm sorry, Jason. I know this week meant a lot to you. I'll make it up to you."

  He shook his head savagely. "Not your fault. I'm just sorry for that poor person..."

  I kissed his cheek and set him away from me. "So am I.

  Do you want to go up top? I can take care of this."

  "No, I want to stay with you."

  "I need to take a look around. You have to stay here and not touch anything. Go over there and sit on one of those rocks. I'll be as quick as I can."

  He nodded and moved over to a large, flat, sunbaked rock that jutted out over the stream forming a natural seat. His eyes still had a vacant look to them. I wished I could have spent more time reassuring him, but time had suddenly become very important. Camera in hand, I set to work. I took photos of every angle around the dead fall concealing the body. Then I managed a few close-ups showing the skull and remnants of clothes. Clearly, the body had been buried in some way until recently. Insect activity wasn't advanced enough to be old, and the fact that larger animals hadn't found and scattered the remains also told me that. Maybe it had been buried under snow? I realized I might need Jason after all.

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  I approached him again and crouched down in front of him. "Jason," I spoke firmly, letting him know he had to listen to me closely. I didn't have time to smooth away his fear. I took my Tilley off and held it in front of me. "When would the snow around here have melted? How much do you think there would have been? Enough to fully bury a body?"

  He raised his face to me, his look earnest. "Yes, probably.

  Even if the snow's not really heavy, it accumulates. It could easily bury a body, plus the rangers probably don't get up here as often once winter comes, if at all."

  "So a corpse put here in late fall would stay here, hidden?"

  He looked sick and I was sorry to make him think about the subject. "Yes. It could. Who do you think it is?"

  "I don't know."

  "Who could have done this? Or was it an accident?"

  I had wanted to consider that possibility, but knew it was a false hope. I had seen the hole in the skull's forehead. Dead center kill shot. Execution style. Like Isaac Simpson.

  But all I could tell him was, "I don't know, Jay." Sad commentary for a man who was supposed to have all the answers to the dark questions. "But it might have something to do with the drug dealers. Someone stumbles on them, they can get nasty."

  His throat convulsed. "Like us?"

  I squeezed his kneecap. "I'm not letting anything happen to you. Got it?"

  He nodded, and even tried to offer me a sickly smile.

  I went back to searching the crime scene, using one of my walking sticks to pry apart brush, lift branches and poke 163

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  through piles of rotting wood and other debris. I quartered along the stream bank first, hopping carefully from stone to stone looking for anything else that looked out of place.

  I looked back at Jason still sitting on his stony perch, watching me, hands dangling limply between his legs. His binoculars lay forgotten on his chest.

  I turned away. Nothing I could do for him right now.

  I saw the tan boot and denim pant leg first. Like the first body it had been
buried under a pile of leaves and branches.

  Unlike the first body though, this one hadn't yet been decimated by insect activity. Gently, I pushed the branches aside. But even before I saw the face I knew who it was. The man from the car lot, the one Jason and I had scoped out.

  The one with the dog we had heard barking last night and this morning.

  Had it been barking at this man's death? Where were the two women he had been traveling with? With less caution now, I searched through the piles of wood and damp rot but there were no more bodies.

  Perhaps that should have cheered me. But I'd been a cop too many years. I didn't know what had happened to those two young women, but I was pretty sure it wasn't anything good.

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  Jason

  I expected Alex to take his time on his search. I tried not to pay attention to what he was doing and I avoided looking at the horror he had stumbled upon. The second time a dead body and Alex had figured together. The first time, with George Blunt, had been bad enough. This was unbelievably worse. The stench still clung to my nose and throat and all I could smell was corruption and vomit. Both made me want to throw up again, and it took all my will power to keep my stomach from emptying itself on the rocks around me.

  I was startled when Alex hurried back to me, scooped the backpack I had set beside me and shoved the gear at me. He jammed his hat back down on his head. "Come on," he said.

  "We need to get back down to the rangers."

  "What happened?" I cried. He was scaring me. "What's wrong?"

  "There's another body. This one was recent. We need to get out of here. Now, Jason. I'll explain on the way, but we can't stay here—"

  A sharp crack split the air. At first I thought a tree branch had broken off. Then I found myself lying on my stomach with a mouth full of dirt and water and Alex lying on top of me.

 

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