Coop felt his mouth go dry. His screaming quads were suddenly drowned out by a tidal wave of cold, irrational fear as Wade stalked toward the camp from the wrong direction.
“Whyisheherewhyisheherewhyishehere?” Coop’s mind shrieked at a million miles an hour as his pulse skyrocketed. His hands started to tremble uncontrollably. “Howdidhegethereheshouldbeontheotherendofcamp!”
Wade stopped suddenly as he spied all the changes to the campsite.
The Braves’ outhouse was gone; the only evidence it ever existed was the raised baseboard with its one hole cut out, which had been covered with a rock. Every other timber was gone. So too was the storage shed across from it. Aside from the concrete foundation, it had simply ceased to exist.
All of that lumber had gone into a new structure: a seven-foot fence that surrounded the teepee on three sides. Boards had been planted vertically in the ground, reinforced at the top and bottom with horizontal crossbeams to form a crude but effective barrier. The boards were not all uniform in length or grain, nor were they all perfectly placed, lending the structure a ramshackle look. There was a narrow gap at the front — one granting easy access to the teepee’s door — that was just wide enough for one person to squeeze through. The tin roof that had once covered the shed now sat atop this makeshift entrance.
The only section of the wigwam not fenced off was the backside, which had a small shelf of land on either side before the ground plunged downhill a dozen feet. A row of foot-long wooden spikes had been planted at the rim of the shelf to discourage anyone from climbing up.
Wade stared at the setup for a few moments, his impressions clouded by his inscrutable expression and grimly clenched jaw. As he scanned the area, his eyes at last came to rest on Coop, who still hadn’t moved from his hiding spot. Wade’s eyes zeroed in on the hatchet in Coop’s hands and narrowed menacingly as he strode forward, knife in hand.
Coop watched as Wade closed in. He couldn’t move; no matter what his brain shouted to his legs, they stood stock still. He opened his mouth to scream but the words refused to come out. The hatchet he had been holding fell from his trembling fingers into the drainage ditch, narrowly missing his right foot. Coop didn’t even notice.
Wade’s stride widened and his pace quickened. When he was 15 feet away from Coop, he raised his blade menacingly and charged forward.
Seeing the knife pointed at him finally broke Coop’s paralysis. He pressed his back up against the rear wall of the outhouse, and the words started tumbling out of his mouth.
“Helphe’shereWade'scominghelpsomebodyanybodyhelpme!”
* * * * * *
Lamar watched the sky slowly darken from his hiding place behind the fence, a few feet to the left of the narrow entrance. He rocked back and forth on his heels, trying to stave off boredom. To the right of the entrance was Beverly, who was sitting with her back to the fence as she traced patterns in the dirt with her spear tip. Ken had demanded that nobody talk to avoid distraction, leaving the pair little to do except stare off into space, replaying his instructions in their minds as they waited.
At Gaby’s signal, Lamar and Beverly would charge out from their hiding spots, spears pointed upward to avoid accidentally skewering each other. Ken had also insisted after a couple of dry runs that Beverly be the first out of the gate — which by design was too narrow to accommodate two people at once — because she was slower and needed more time to reach her mark than Lamar.
He was fine with that; it made sense, after all. But the lack of anything to do as the minutes slowly ticked by grated on him. He found himself checking his watch every few minutes, just to have something to do. If Wade was planning to show, he was certainly taking his sweet time with it.
Wailing.
Lamar heard a strange, high-pitched shriek from the eastern end of camp. He looked over at Beverly, who seemed just as confused as he was. He had just enough time to wonder if it was some kind of exotic animal call before the pitch went up and he realized two things: it was a human voice, and it belonged to Coop.
Panicking, Lamar charged blindly at the entrance, not even pausing long enough to look where he was going. In his haste, he’d forgotten Ken’s instructions, and realized it too late as he raised his head and saw Beverly running to the gate at the same time. The look of shock and confusion on her face came too late for either of them to stop. The pair collided headfirst with a sickening thud.
* * * * * *
Gaby heard a strange noise in the distance. It was hard to pinpoint where it was coming from, and even harder to determine what it was. She looked all around from her perch in the boughs of an old maple tree near the southwestern outskirts of camp. Nothing. She looked to Ken, who had a better vantage point in a large ash tree just south of her. Judging by his expression, he’d heard the sound too. He scanned his sector of the camp and shook his head no at her.
Several seconds later there was a crashing noise by the fence line. Now Gaby was getting seriously worried. A moment later, Lamar stumbled out of the gap in the fence, holding his head. He appeared dazed and took a few moments to find his spear before charging toward the outhouse. Beverly was right behind him, clutching her shoulder and running in the same direction.
Gaby threw her spear to the ground and grabbed hold of a sturdy branch by her feet, using it to lower herself to a safe falling distance. Something must have gone wrong. Gaby just hoped she’d arrive in time to prevent a total catastrophe.
As she hit the ground and tucked into a crouch to absorb the impact, she saw Ken leap from his perch some 20 feet in the air. Gaby located her spear and bolted toward the outhouse. Behind her, Ken cried out as he landed. Gaby was so preoccupied with what was happening on the other side of camp that she scarcely registered it.
* * * * * *
“OhmyGodhe’sgoingtokillmepleasesomebodystophim!” Coop shrieked as Wade lunged at him with the hunting knife. He couldn’t hear anything over the ringing in his ears, feel anything apart from the pressure expelled by his screaming lungs and see anything except for the glinting tip of the blade as it sped toward his midsection. Coop’s entire world shrunk down to the edge of that knife. A single thought echoed in his mind as it rushed toward him, moving impossibly fast.
“I want to live.”
Coop twisted to his left and the blade grazed him, snagging his robes before embedding itself in the rear wall of the outhouse. Coop tried to tear his clothing loose, but Wade pinned him to the wall with his free hand. Frighteningly strong fingers bit cruelly into Coop’s shoulder. Rancid breath assaulted his nostrils.
Coop clawed ineffectually at the face of his much larger assailant, trying desperately to distract him as Wade struggled to work the knife free. Wade’s free hand moved from Coop’s shoulder to his throat. He located the windpipe and clamped down, like a lion suffocating its prey. Coop gasped for breath and started convulsing.
In a hazy vision he saw Lamar rush down Wade and thrust at him with a wooden spear. Wade pulled his knife free just in time to sidestep Lamar’s thrust. Coop spasmed as he gasped for air, his lungs burning, his mind feverish. He fell to his knees and lay panting against the outhouse wall, only dimly aware of what was happening around him.
Lamar was shouting something as he stood between them. Coop couldn’t make out what. He collapsed just as Beverly arrived.
* * * * * *
“Coop, are you okay?” Lamar shouted as he held Wade at bay, jabbing the spear repeatedly in his direction. “Coop?” He wanted to look back to see if Coop was still alive, but knew full well what would happen if he took his eyes off Wade for even a moment.
Wade stalked back and forth just outside of Lamar’s range, his knife hand at the ready. In the fading light, Lamar could see that Wade’s eyes seethed with rage, but his face betrayed a hint of confusion as well, like a wolf suddenly finding itself challenged by the sheep.
Out of the corner of his eye, Lamar saw something rush up from his left. He flinched reflexively, but it turned out to be Beverly, w
ho stood shoulder to shoulder with him, leveling her spear at Wade’s chest.
Lamar had never been more scared in his life. He struggled to keep his spear tip from shaking as he trained it on a man with both the means and the motive to murder all of them. Beverly, on the other hand, seemed to almost relish the chance at revenge, taunting Wade with her spear.
“Come on!” she challenged him, thrusting the spear at him. “Try choking me now, you son of a bitch!”
While Lamar’s spear pokes had been hesitant, serving only as a warning, Beverly meant business. She leaned into each thrust, trying to skewer Wade.
He didn’t respond to her provocations. Instead he seemed to be watching her movements intensely. As she unleashed another thrust closer than ever, Wade lunged forward and grabbed the spear just below the tip. He yanked hard on it as Beverly tried to pull it back. A momentary tug-of-war broke out before Beverly lost her grip, falling on her butt as Wade wrenched it from her grasp. She watched it sail through the air behind him, landing against a tree some 20 feet away.
Deprived of her weapon and lying prone on the ground, Beverly’s bloodlust quickly evaporated. The look on Wade’s sunburned face was truly chilling. He looked at her like she was his next meal, and the tiniest hint of a sadistic smile emerged. She started scooting desperately back, using her feet to propel her as she struggled to escape.
Before Wade could make a move, however, Gaby joined their ranks, running in from the right side of the outhouse. She saw Wade and started momentarily but kept her composure. She lowered her spear until it was pointed at Wade’s throat and then shuffled to her left to stand shoulder to shoulder with Lamar, forming a human wall around Coop’s prone form.
Ken limped over a few seconds later, leaning on his spear like a walking stick and favoring his right leg. He stopped beside Gaby and quickly joined the wall formation.
Wade watched them with a primal fury, sizing them up as though he was about to pounce at any given moment. His jawline quivered not with fear, but barely contained, animalistic savagery.
The others kept their eyes locked on Wade, too scared to look at one another for direction. Nobody spoke. Wade continued pacing back and forth, just outside of range.
“Somebody say something,” Gaby hissed.
That was when it struck them: they’d spent so much time practicing how to corner Wade, they’d never considered what to say once they did.
“W … wade,” Lamar fumbled, nervous and unprepared. “We order you … uhm …” he trailed off, uncertain where to take it from here.
“You’re banned,” Ken said, backing him up. “Don’t come back again. Because if you do …”
Ken swallowed hard and steeled himself.
“If you do … we’ll kill you.”
Wade didn’t respond. He continued staring at them, unmoving and unblinking, long enough for more than one of them to wonder if he even understood their words anymore. The fire shimmering in his eyes was mesmerizing, even as they narrowed to dangerous slits. He kept the point of his blade trained on the group.
Ken prepared to issue his ultimatum again when Wade’s eyes suddenly went wide and his mouth opened. And out it came.
“GGGGRRAAAWWWWHHHHH!!!”
The veins in his neck bulged as the deafening roar burst forth from his wiry frame. Gaby and Lamar reflexively winced at the noise, but kept their spears aimed at him. The primal shout of the apex predator echoed through the trees, a warning to all within earshot.
Wade backed slowly away from them, his blade still raised. His eyes shifted rapidly from side to side, scanning them for any hint of a threatening motion. When he was 30 feet away, he turned around and stalked off into the forest.
Lamar tried to calm himself. His heart was pounding like a trip hammer, and his breath was coming in ragged gasps borne of pure fear. When Wade was out of sight he dropped his spear to check on Coop. Coop’s glasses had slipped off his face in the melee. He was unconscious but breathing. He appeared unhurt except for some bruising around the throat and the tear in his robes.
Gaby and Ken continued staring in Wade’s direction long after he was out of sight, still trying to process what they’d just experienced.
“What was that?” Gaby asked breathlessly.
Ken lowered his spear and inhaled sharply.
“A war cry.”
The words hung in the air, looming over them like the rapidly expanding shadows. Gaby exhaled and realized it was cold enough to see her breath. She marveled at this, because she was sweating so profusely. That sweat quickly turned cold when Lamar asked a chilling question.
“Where’s Beverly?”
They looked around and realized they hadn’t seen her since she’d lost her spear. A quick check of the camp and a few shouted calls of her name yielded nothing. Beverly was gone.
* * * * * *
Ken nailed an empty can to the interior wall of the fence, just to the right of the entrance. He handed the hammer to a dubious Gaby, who tentatively rapped on the hollow can. It made a surprisingly loud clatter that could heard all the way across camp.
“Okay, if you’re on sentry duty and you see Wade coming, don’t challenge him,” Ken said. “Hit this with the hammer to wake the rest of us up and then fall back to the teepee. That way, if he wants to fight us, he has to come in, where it’ll be five on one.”
“Couldn’t he just set the wigwam on fire?” Gaby asked.
“No,” Lamar answered. “Remember how John told us the plastic sheeting was fire resistant? The animal furs on the outside will burn, but the sheeting should hold up. If Wade wants us dead, he’ll have to come in here to do it.”
“How’re you coming on those traps, Lamar?”
Lamar held up three empty cans connected by the plastic cording that they’d used earlier as a clothesline.
“I’ll set these up between some trees,” Lamar explained, pulling the cord tight to demonstrate. “If Wade tries to sneak into camp …” Lamar flicked the cord and the cans immediately started jangling and clanking against one another, producing a terrific racket.
“We also have this,” Lamar said, dropping the cans and holding up a leftover plank of wood. He’d embedded several nails in the underside that gleamed wickedly in the pale moonlight. Gaby shuddered to think what would happen if she stepped on one.
“I’ll set a few of these up at the main access points to camp: the entrance, the path down to the floodplain and behind the woodpile. Then we can search for Beverly.”
“Good,” Ken said, appearing genuinely impressed by what Lamar had rigged together. “Just be certain everyone sees where you’re placing them. The last thing any of us needs is tetanus.”
“Now, before we go out looking for her, remember the rules,” Ken instructed them. “From here on out, no one goes out unarmed, and no one goes out alone. You plan to use the outhouse? Take a friend. And above all, know where everyone else is at all times. Remember: we’re on war footing.”
They cautiously filed out of the fence line one at a time. Gaby and Ken formed a perimeter while waiting for Lamar and Coop to join them. Coop carried Lamar’s spear for him, as he had his hands full with the traps. The moon was waxing full, which made seeing in the dark easier, although passing clouds would intermittently blot out the light.
Lamar headed over to the woodpile to lay the first trap, accompanied by Coop, while Gaby and Ken kept watch. Lamar noted how quiet and downcast Coop seemed, even when factoring in their present circumstances.
“Hey, you okay?” Lamar whispered to him.
Coop didn’t even answer. He still seemed shaken by his experience from an hour earlier.
“It’s not your fault, you know,” Lamar said, trying to comfort him.
Coop shook his head.
“It is,” he said quietly. “I just … froze, like a deer in headlights. I didn’t even try to fight him. I just stood there like an idiot. I’m afraid the same thing will happen again.”
Lamar hid the trap in some thigh-
high grass between the woodpile and the outhouse. He motioned to Ken and Gaby so they saw where he’d placed it. They nodded in response. He then stood up and did his best to give Coop a reassuring smile.
“Now that you know what you did wrong, you can work to overcome it,” he said. “So the next time you face him, you’ll be prepared.”
Coop looked skeptical and said nothing, but he was less mopey as they went around the rest of camp setting up traps. Lamar was tying off the cans on a string between two large poplar trees when they heard a noise in the darkness. Something large had crashed through nearby bushes, judging from the sound. Lamar hastily stepped back. Everyone held their spears at the ready.
“Who’s there?” Ken shouted.
No response, but they continued to hear leaves shaking in the bushes. The sound was getting closer.
“Identify yourself!”
Still no response. The rustling noises grew louder, more frantic. A cloud passed overhead, blotting out the moonlight and preventing the group from seeing anything outside of the camp.
“Maybe it’s Beverly,” Coop said hesitantly, even as he took two steps backward.
“Maybe it’s Wade,” Ken replied, and stepped back himself.
Ken was about to bark his command again when the rustling suddenly stopped and a shape emerged from the forest. It staggered toward them. They could see tiny puffs of warm breath floating in front of it in the chill night air.
“Halt!” Ken barked, taking another step back. “Identify yourself!”
The moon peeked out from behind the clouds, and there in the ghostly moonlight was Beverly. She had branches and leaves sticking out of her hair. Her eyes looked glassy, as though she were in a daze. Her head bobbed unsteadily from side to side. Her eyes focused on Ken, and she held up her middle finger with a triumphant smile on her face.
The Truth Circle Page 17