The light turns into headlights and suddenly there is a vehicle barreling down at us. Two more sets of headlights appear. They stop at the top, side-by-side but angled away from each other; a roadblock. The approaching vehicle, which I now see is Brian’s, swings in next to me. I lower my window. “They won’t let us leave,” he says angrily.
I glance up at the two cars. “Who?” I’m thinking Vandermill’s men.
“Two deputies. They’ve orders from Sheriff Grandy to keep us here until he arrives.” He opens his door and clamors out. “I’m calling that sonofabitch. I don’t know what the hell he thinks he’s doing.” He’s still talking but soon goes out of earshot as he rushes into the house.
It takes me but a few seconds to put it all together. It’s quite simple. Sheriff Grandy heard the name Aileen Bravelli, called the phone number he had been given, and with big dollar signs floating around in his head, reported to Victor Vandermill. Victor then issued his orders to hold us until he or his goons can get here. There is no doubt in my mind, as I sit shaking in my seat, that Victor is warming up his personal Leer Jet, and making phone calls to his local hit squad, who he keeps on speed dial.
Tanya pulls up in front of me. We both get out together and meet in the headlight beams. She doesn’t ask; instead, she waits for me to say it.
“Vandermill’s on his way.”
She looks up at the two cars, now with just their parking lights on, and then out into the dark forest. “They don’t need us.” Her voice is low, just barely audible over the three idling engines, but audible enough that I can sense the fear. She is trying to hold herself together, not wanting to collapse into my arms. “They want her. Where the hell is she?”
I look toward the house, at the upper windows. There are no lights on but I sense a movement in one. Could be my imagination. I feel a pressure behind my solar plexus. “I don’t know.” I force the words past the pressure and wish in my heart it’s indigestion. I always wish it is either that or a heart attack. I’ve never had either one, having a strong heart and an iron stomach. I also sense that she wants my arms, and is not willing to make the move. I reach out and touch her shoulders and she steps into me. Her head against my chest and arms around me feel good. I wish it was under different circumstances.
I feel Becky’s hands wrap around my arm. “Dad,” she says in that tone that means she wants my immediate attention. Both of us look at her. “Something is going to happen.”
So much for my indigestion. “What?”
“Don’t know. Just have the feelings. No pictures yet.”
Tanya pushes away, her anger and fear flaring her into action. “You said you changed things before when Reba’s car was going to crash into me. That means anything can be changed. We just need to know what action to take.” She turns toward the house. “If she’s still here, we need to find her; drag her out if necessary.” With that she takes off for the house. Becky and I are right after her. There is a part of me that doesn’t feel right about giving Aileen up to Vandermill; a moral thing maybe, or the adage about not sacrificing your fellow soldier to the enemy. Is Aileen a fellow soldier? To Tanya she’s an expendable liability. Who should my loyalties stand with? A stupid question really. I’ll let Tanya do what she feels she must, maybe help her, but I don’t have to feel good about it. After all, I suddenly come to realize, it may come down to Tanya and Becky’s lives, or Aileen’s. That decision is easy.
There’s another twist in my chest and I’m afraid that whatever happens, we aren’t going to have any choice or say in the matter.
I hit the landing at the top of the stairs where I assume the bedrooms reside. “Sam . . . Aileen!” Tanya screams. “Whoever the hell you are, get your ass out here!” She appears in the hall and then rushes down to another room. Although her wordage changes, the meaning remains the same and her French is getting even more colorful. I have some strange desire to cover Becky’s ears; stupid thoughts at the weirdest times. I flip on the lights in a bathroom and then flip them off, and then look in a bedroom that Tanya has already been in. When I step out she is coming back down the hall, her hair flying behind her, and her face in the throes of hysteria.
“Don’t just stand there,” she screams. “find her!”
I actually feel a breeze as she blows by and back down the stairs. I look at Becky. “Do you see anything yet? Any idea what’s going to happen?”
She shakes her head. “It’s getting stronger.” She looks scared, depending on me to keep my head and make the right decisions.
“Yeah. Me too.” I have no idea what the right decision might be, if there even is one. I stop halfway down the stairs. I can see through a portal over the front door that there is a third vehicle sitting at the top of the hill. The two sets of parking lights back away and then turn around. Headlights come on and they leave. The new vehicle comes down the hill.
“Come on!” I say to Becky and race down to find Tanya.
Brian is pounding on a phone keypad. He sees me. “Can’t find fuck’n nobody,” he growls.
Tanya appears. “She’s already gone. What do we do?”
Everyone is looking at me. I suddenly feel cornered, stumbling for the right answer. “I don’t know but whatever it is we’d better do it quick. The deputies have left and there’s another vehicle pulling up out front.”
Brian drops the phone. “Got to be Grandy, that sonofabitch.” He heads for the stairs.
Becky grabs my arm. “Oh God!” Her hands go to the side of her head; her eyes are pressed closed. “Oh, God!” she says again. “He’s . . . he’s . . . Oh, God!”
“What!” Tanya exclaims.
“No!” I yell and chase after Brian who is already out of sight. Matt had followed slowly after his dad and I catch him at the top of the stairs. We both freeze at the sight out the window of two men walking from a very dark colored suburban-like vehicle. They each are carrying what appears to be automatic weapons, pointed at the sky. The tightness in my chest suddenly increases to the point that I cannot breathe, nearly dropping me to my knees. One of the men lowers his weapon and I hear Becky scream from below. Only seconds later Matt screams in my ear, “No!” He starts to take off and I snag him by the belt. “It’s too late!” I gasp. Brian appears and then there is the deadly report from the weapon. The constriction around my chest releases.
“You can’t do anything.” I grab Matt’s arm and drag him down the stairs with me. “We’re all dead too if we don’t get out of here now!” At the bottom of the stairs I stammer that we have to get outside and into the woods. Tanya turns, not sure which way to go. “This way,” I say.
“No!” Matt tries to shake off my hand.
Becky steps in and grabs his other arm and together we drag him to the door. Tanya is already there, fighting with the latch to get it open. When she does she glances out and then rushes across the patio. “Which way?”
I point and we run across the lawn with barely enough light so that we don’t run into anything. Matt no longer needs to be forced, only encouraged with a hand on his arm. Just as we reach the creek the sliding glass door slams open.
“Down!” I command. “In the creek, against the bank.” We scramble down the dirt path. There’s a splash and then Tanya swearing under her breath. “Quiet!” I say. There is more splashing and then she drops down next to me. We’re all breathing hard and listening. I’m trying to form a plan if they should walk out here. Did they see or hear us? Is it possible they have no idea where we went, that they’re just guessing as to the patio door. “Stay,” I say to Matt and I carefully poke my head up over the edge until I can see the house. I expect to see my very last image in life to be the barrel end of a gun. There is nothing; no one.
I breathe again.
The door is closed. I scan from one end of the creek to the other, covering every square foot of lawn as well as the approaches from both sides of the house. There’s nothing, but then if they are smart they’d stay hidden in a dark corner and wait for us to relax
and do something stupid.
All of a sudden I spot one of them through the glass door. He’s in blue jeans and a dark green t-shirt. He also has something in both hands, maybe two weapons. As I watch he hangs one over his shoulder, and then using both hands he places the other onto his head, like a specially fitted helmet. I’m puzzled as to what it is until he turns.
“Oh, shit!” The lights go out. I slide back down with the others.
“What now,” Tanya demands.
“Night vision goggles. They can see us even when we can’t see them.”
“Oh, God,” Becky says.
“What?” Tanya says to her. “You feeling something; see something?”
“No. Just oh, God because we’re in deep shit.”
“Come on!” I say. “We can’t stay here.” I try to pull Matt down into the creek. He fights me. “Becky! Help me here.”
“No!” Matt jerks away, but Becky grabs him.
I get a hold of him again. “Your dad wouldn’t want you killed too. Besides, we need your help.”
“Where?” Tanya asks. She slides down with me.
“Into the creek. If we keep our heads down and follow it up for about fifty yards we can get in the cover of the trees and then climb the hillside up to a trail where it enters a huge stand of trees. We can hide in there or keep right on going up.”
“Please!” Becky pleads to Matt. He relents and steps into the creek.
“Then what?” Tanya intakes a lungful of air. “Shit this is cold!”
“I don’t know,” I say once I get my breath back. “We’ll worry about it when we get someplace safe. All I know is that it’s not safe here.”
How much of our splashing and talking can be heard by the goons with the guns and night vision goggles. Tanya is in the lead. Becky is still holding on to Matt. I follow, worried that Tanya won’t know where to go, but she climbs out right where I think she should and starts trudging up the hill. We climb out and race after her. By the time we step onto the trail that I was on earlier, we are all breathing hard. We’re bunched together looking about when suddenly there’s a blast of gun fire. We drop flat to the ground and hold our collective breaths. There are voices far off, beyond the trees, down by the house. “Is everyone okay?” I whisper. There are three muttered confirmations. “Okay. Let’s go . . . up the trail.” There’s a pause. “Go! Go!”
Becky and Matt stand and head out at a burst. I push Tanya to her feet and then we move out not quite as fast. There is a slight moon rising from the East and the sky is clear and full of stars, giving us just enough visual to see the looming forest. Becky and Matt disappear into it, and then just as suddenly so does Tanya. I pause and look back, and then step into the trees as well, and into the darkest night I have ever seen.
Chapter 40
Reba
I’m blind, or I’m experiencing exactly what it’s like to be blind. I thought I’d be able to see something when we came into the trees but it’s like I’ve stepped into another world. Even the smell stops me short and I quickly turn around and run smack into Matt. My nose collides with his something and I stifle only half of my scream.
“What’s the matter?” Dad says. “What happened?”
“It’s okay. It’s too damn dark in here.”
“Anyone have a penlight.”
“I have one in my purse, but it’s in the car,” Mom says.
“What do we do now?” I ask. “Sit down here and wait until morning?”
“We have to keep moving,” Dad says.
“Yeah, right. I don’t know about you guys but I’m scared. I can’t see shit enough to tell if my ass is up or down.” That’s only half as scared as I really am. I’m just trying to put on a happy voice. “And if you give me crap about my language then you know where you all can go.”
Mom giggles. “I’m sorry,” she says. “You can say anything you want.”
“Fuck!” I say. She giggles again. Mom’s gone weird. Dad says nothing. “So now what? I’m fine for moving on. Just tell me which way to go.” Matt is leaning against me and then suddenly I can see him peeking out from under the rocks, watching legs walk away, hear him giggle his joke on his parents and older brothers. Then in a blink it is dark and a petrified fear flows over him. He shakes and cries, scared to move; scared to crawl out into the night. This is all coming from his memories, except for the shaking. There is more going on in his head but it is so scrambled I cannot grab a single picture beyond the legs walking away, and then the animal legs pacing back and forth in front of his hiding hole. How old was he when he played this little joke on his parents, a joke that has scarred him for life? I’m sure that scar is nothing compared to watching his father be murdered. The crying isn’t just coming from his memories. I put my arms around him and pull him close. “It’s okay, Matt. You’re safe now.”
“What’s the matter?” Mom asks.
“Let me take care of it,” I say to her. “Matthew! Put your hand here.” I pick up his hand and put it against my cheek. “You’re not alone. I’m here with you.” He quiets. “My mom and dad are here with you, too.” They take the hint and I feel their arms come around us. “See,” I say to him. “We’re all here with you. Don’t worry.”
There is a long silence as he gains control of himself.
“Matt? Are you okay now?” I ask.
There’s a deep breath and then he says, “Yes,” very softly.
“Great. Now Dad’s going to lead us out of here. Right, Dad?”
I hear a yes that is not all that assured. Matt seems to be convinced by it because he breathes and relaxes again. “Okay.”
“Okay, Dad. You lead.” Maybe he’s had time to come up with a plan.
“Let’s take each other’s belt,” he says. “Everyone get in line behind me.”
There’s some shifting around of bodies, and a lot of groping around which in other circumstances, with my friends, could be fun. In these circumstances and with my parents it is not. Matt’s hands wander all over my backside. Just grab something! I want to yell but I know in his mental condition the furthest thing from his mind is copping a feel.
“No belt,” he says.
Jesus! He’s talking like he’s five years old. He’s still there, at that time when he hid and then they left him in the woods all night. I reach behind and find his hand. “Here, Matt” I guide his fingers around the top of my jeans. “I don’t have a belt, so hold on here.”
“Okay,” he says and takes a firm grip.
“Everyone ready?” Dad says.
Mom and I confirm. I sense that Matt is nodding his head.
“Matt. You ready?” Dad asks.
“He’s ready,” I say for him. I’m suddenly proud of my dad. He’s taking charge even though he has no idea where he’s going. I focus on my proud feelings because otherwise I’d be too scared to move. He takes two steps and pulls me, then Matt, then Mom along. He stops.
“I can’t tell if I’m on or off the trail,” he says and then steps forward again. At this rate we might make it a hundred yards by daybreak. “Ouch! Be careful of thorns on your left.”
We’re moving at a medium snail’s pace now, bearing right around the thorn bush we can’t see. I can’t decide whether to keep my eyes open or not.
“Ouch!” from my dad again. “Damn! This ain’t going to work.”
“We can’t go back,” Mom says, “How far until we come out of this forest?”
“I don’t know,” Dad says. “A couple hundred yards maybe, and then it opens up for a long way. Should have moonlight to guide by then.” We start moving again. “I can almost see shapes now,” he says.
“I have a flashlight.” We stop. Matt’s voice is older than five now, probably a teenager, or maybe himself scared shitless.
“You do?” Dad turns around. “Where?”
“Ah . . . in my pocket. It’s a little one.”
“Great! Can I use it?”
“Sure! I want it back, though.”
“Ok
ay,” Dad says.
Matt doesn’t move. Both hands are still locked onto my jeans. I’m starting to get a wedgie because he has my underwear as well and has been pulling up steady. I reach around and try to take one of his hands. “Matt,” I say softly. “Give Dad your flashlight. He’ll take good care of it, I promise.”
“Okay,” he says but he doesn’t relax his grip.
“Matt,” I say. “I’m going to turn around and face you. You’re going to have to let loose a little so I can do that. Okay?”
“Okay.”
I start turning. At first he doesn’t relax the grip and then suddenly he does, moving his hands along my waist. Then I am facing him and his grip is just as tight on the front of my pants as it was in the back. I take both of his hands in mine. “Okay, you can let loose now. I’ve got you. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
“Okay,” he says.
“I’m putting your hands on my shoulders, okay.”
“Okay.”
“That’s good. Where is the flashlight?”
“In my pocket.”
Patience! “I’m going to search your pockets until I find it and then get it out, okay?”
“Okay.”
It’s not in his front pockets. I step up close and have to press myself against him to reach to his back pockets. I feel his breath against my face; expect he’ll react in some sexual fashion. He has no reaction at all. His GPS receiver is on his belt. There is nothing in his back pockets, not even a wallet. “There is no flashlight, Matt. Where’s the flashlight?”
Sabre-Toothed Cat Trilogy Page 61