The Truth Circle

by Cameron Ayers

  Standing in front of the two trees was Wade, sizing up his fallen prey. He allowed himself a small, grim smile. Now that his hunt was at an end, it was time to feast. Gaby’s eyes darted back to the gap between the trees, where she saw that glint again. She turned her head and closed her eyes, feigning surrender. It was all the encouragement Wade required.

  He raised his knife and charged toward her, running right between the two trees. A swooshing noise sounded as two ends of a bear trap shot up from their grassy hiding place, clamping their steel jaws around Wade’s right leg. He dropped his knife in shock and pain, bellowing with rage as the rusty trap bit into either side of his calf muscle, locking him in place.

  Gaby stood up for real this time and sprinted past Wade as he struggled to free himself, praying she didn’t stumble on any of the other illegal bear traps lying in wait.

  Her heart pounding, her muscles aching and her ears ringing, Gaby ran.

  * * * * * *

  Ken and Coop sat on opposite sides of the unlit firepit in the center of camp, both of them lost in their own little worlds, trying to process what they had just witnessed. Coop cleaned his glasses with the frayed hem of his robes while Ken poked the ground with his spear.

  “Have you ever seen anything like that before?” Coop asked, breaking the silence.

  Ken shook his head.

  “Never. And I’ve been backpacking on four continents.”

  Ken continued stabbing the dirt. After a long pause, Coop spoke up again.

  “I still say we should have gone after her.”

  Ken shrugged.

  “We have no idea where she went.”

  “She took the C.B.; that means she’s looking for a peak to broadcast from,” Coop explained, growing annoyed with Ken’s indifference.

  Ken gestured to the ring of high hills on three sides of them, capped with dozens of peaks to choose from.

  “And which one did she pick? As Dad would say: ‘Choice is man’s greatest curse.’ We could easily wind up lost while searching for her.”

  Coop blinked several times before answering.

  “But we’re already lost.”

  Ken rolled his eyes. He was pondering what cutting barb to respond with when Lamar returned from a quick trip to the overlook.

  “Is Beverly still down there?” Coop asked.

  Lamar nodded as he sat beside Coop.

  “She’s just sitting there, rocking back and forth.”

  “Hang on, how can you see Mama Crass through all the steam?” Ken asked.

  “Most of its dissipated by now,” Lamar explained. “It’s just ash and Beverly down there, now.” Lamar paused a beat before quickly adding, “And if you want someone to collect her, forget it. I’m not going down there again.”

  Ken waved his hand dismissively at the prospect, as though Beverly’s safety was the least of his priorities.

  Coop held his glasses up to the sun, checking them for streaks.

  “Did anyone else feel sick to their stomach down there?” he asked as he seated his glasses on the bridge of his nose.

  Lamar raised his hand.

  “That was weird, but not hearing any other sounds was plain creepy,” he said quietly. “It was like we were trapped in some kind of soundproof bubble.”

  “That can’t be natural,” Coop agreed. “I felt like an intruder in the land of the dead.”

  Ken shook his head in annoyance.

  “Can you two drama queens give it a rest?” he growled. “Let’s stick to what we know. What could explain all this … weird shit?” Ken said, struggling to find the right words.

  “Nothing,” Coop replied with a dejected sigh.

  “One thing might,” Lamar said slowly, staring off into space as he stroked his goatee thoughtfully. “Radiation.”

  Ken, who was still poking the ground, paused mid-spear thrust. Coop covered his mouth and looked at Lamar quizzically.

  “We know there’s an abandoned research base nearby, and we know they were working with nuclear reactors,” Lamar said. “Maybe they buried all that nuclear waste in the floodplains, and now it’s leaking to the surface. You hear stories like that from a lot of nuclear dumping sites.”

  “That might explain the nausea, but not what happened with the sound,” Coop insisted.

  “Neurological symptoms,” Lamar replied. “The floodplain was probably full of noise, but we couldn’t tell because the radiation was trashing our nervous systems. My mom’s an oncology tech, so I hear stories all the time about chemo patients with these symptoms.”

  Ken snorted in disgust. While the shock of what they’d seen down in the floodplain had knocked the wind out of his sails, it was starting to pass, and he was fast becoming insufferable once more.

  “So we’ll all die of radiation sickness or turn into the Toxic Avenger,” he said. “Fucking peachy.”

  “But John said …” Coop started to protest.

  “No one gives a damn what that Nava-hobag said,” Ken replied sharply, cutting him off. “He’s gone. And you know what? So are we.”

  Ken stood up purposefully.

  “Where are you going?” Lamar asked, suspicious.

  “We’re leaving,” Ken responded emphatically. “Crazy-town express leaves in 10 minutes. I’m not waiting to see which kills us first, that psycho Wade or some toxic sludge.”

  “You have no idea where to go!” Coop protested.

  “I run a top-flight brokerage with 75 employees,” Ken said dismissively, as though that was somehow relevant. “I think I can lead a bunch of pansies out of the forest.”

  “Hang on,” Lamar insisted, standing up to make his point. “Let’s think this through: there’s no dead animals or plants up here. If it stays contained to the floodplain, then we should be fine just avoiding it.”

  Ken glared at him in disgust.

  “Where do you think our drinking water comes from?”

  That gave Lamar pause. He and Coop both glanced at the drinking pail beside the shower, viewing it with a new degree of suspicion.

  “But Gaby’s still out there,” Coop protested.

  “So we’ll leave her a note,” Ken replied vaguely with a dismissive wave of his hand.

  “Saying what?” Lamar insisted. “Dear Gaby, thanks for trying to get us rescued. Enjoy fending for yourself. Sincerely, the gang.”

  Ken glowered at him for several long seconds before responding.

  “If you have time for melodrama, you have to collect your shit,” he insisted. There was an edge to his voice that made it clear no further insubordination would be tolerated. “We leave in 10 minutes.”

  Lamar crossed his arms defiantly and sat back down, practically daring Ken to respond.

  Coop observed this behavior and quickly followed suit.

  “We’re not going without Gaby,” Lamar said emphatically, his ultimatum lingering in the space between them. “That’s final.”

  “If it weren’t for me, Wade would have dumped both of your sorry asses in a shallow grave last night,” Ken browbeat them. “Now . . . move it!”

  Lamar and Coop exchanged an uneasy glance but held firm.

  “I could make you, you know,” Ken continued, leaning forward menacingly toward the pair, causing Coop to lean back. “It would be easy.”

  Out of the corner of his eye, Lamar spotted his spear, resting on the edge of the firepit. He was trying to gauge whether he could reach it in time if Ken attacked.

  Fortunately, a disturbance in the rhododendron bushes clustered on the western edge of camp ensured he’d never have to find out. Everyone instantly forgot about their feud and focused on the new threat. Coop picked up his spear while Ken cracked his knuckles.

  Out of the underbrush came Gaby, looking spent and disheveled, with coagulated blood crusting on her forehead.

  Coop was so surprised to see her that he dropped his spear. Ken and Lamar stood there watching, dumbfounded.

  Gaby dropped to her knees, either out of gratitude or exhaustion.
She clutched her hand to her chest, trying to catch her breath. She took a deep, panicky breath and spoke her first words all afternoon.

  “He’s back!” she gasped. “Wade’s back!”

  * * * * * *

  Ninety minutes later, the motley crew stalked through the forest with a grim purpose: either capture or kill Wade Rollins. Ken led the party, refusing to lower his spear even as they negotiated increasingly rugged terrain, convinced that Wade was hiding around every large tree or rock formation. Coop, who was bringing up the rear, looked nervous, starting at every robin’s call and wind gust that disrupted a leaf pile. Lamar, who was center-left, seemed the most composed, using his spear as a walking stick and speaking words of comfort to Gaby, who stood center-right. Her head wound had been cleaned, but she was still visibly shaken by her ordeal.

  Ken stopped at a cluster of oak trees that formed a loose semicircle.

  “Alright. Where do we go from here?” he asked Gaby.

  Gaby studied the terrain, looking for anything familiar. She seemed slightly dazed, as though she were walking through a thick mental fog.

  “Left … I think,” she replied fuzzily after a few moments.

  Ken threw up his hands in exasperation.

  “How could you not remember the way? You were literally here two hours ago!”

  Gaby said nothing in response, seeming to barely register Ken’s gripe, so Lamar spoke up for her.

  “Will you ease off the throttle? She’s had a helluva scare,” Lamar reminded him. “Try facing down Wade alone and unarmed and then tell us how perfect your recollection is.”

  “Well, whose fault is that?” Ken shot back.

  An awkward silence fell over the group for several seconds before Gaby spoke up.

  “That wasn’t Wade,” she said, quietly but firmly. “Whatever that thing is, it’s no longer him. I’m not even sure it’s human anymore.”

  Ken rolled his eyes but held his tongue.

  Within a few minutes they arrived at the base of the ridge and quickly located the shattered remains of the C.B. The rest of the scene also bore out Gaby’s story. Ken and Coop searched the perimeter for any weapons or tools Wade may have abandoned in the chase, while Lamar stood over the remains of his pride and joy, surveying its shattered and split chassis, snapped antenna and transistors scattered in every direction. It was beyond any hope of repair.

  “I’m sorry, Lamar,” Gaby apologized. “I know how hard you worked on that. For what it’s worth, it saved my life.”

  Lamar managed a thin smile.

  “Better that it gave its life for you than vice versa.”

  “Hey, can we get back on track here?” Ken snapped. “We’ve got maybe two more hours of daylight left. Let’s find this bastard and gut him, already.”

  Gaby nodded.

  “I think I’ve got my bearings now,” she said. “I should be able to find my way back to the meadow from here.”

  “Well, halle-fucking-lujah.”

  Gaby was true to her word, and after 10 minutes of scouring the low-lying region to the southeast they located one of Coop’s white markers. The group followed the markers to the now-familiar clearing, which Lamar and Coop instantly recognized, and headed east up the grassy ridge before stopping near the edge of the ravine, where they found the backpack Wade had ripped off of Gaby’s shoulders. The zipper on it had busted in the scramble, and her belongings were strewn all over.

  “He’s down there?” Ken asked, pointing his spear toward the meadow 100 yards north.

  Gaby nodded nervously as she collected up her belongings.

  “Okay everyone, form up like we discussed,” Ken ordered. “Lamar, watch our six; Gaby, you take left flank; Coop, you and me have point.”

  “Sir, yes sir!” Lamar said mockingly, giving a snappy salute.

  Ken glowered at him.

  “I’d like to remind you that we’re only in this situation because a certain someone didn’t follow orders,” he intoned, motioning toward Gaby. “One more wisecrack and you all can handle Wade by yourselves.”

  “What’s to handle?” Coop asked. “He’s stuck in a damn bear trap. He’s probably bleeding to death while we argue.”

  Ken shook his head no.

  “Wade is stronger than he looks, and a helluva lot more dangerous. Beverly would tell you that, too, if she weren’t busy sulking in the floodplain. We have to be prepared for anything.”

  “If he’s such a threat, then why’d you leave Beverly alone?” Lamar chimed in.

  “Let’s see: one, she’s a useless pain in the ass; two, he can’t hobble to the camp that fast,” Ken retorted, counting the answers out on his fingers for effect. “If he’s loose, he’ll be somewhere nearby. Oh, and three, shut the fuck up!”

  The group cautiously made its way downhill, aiming for the two trees on the edge of the glade where Wade had been snared. There was no sign of Wade. They looked down and saw the trap had been reset.

  “Holy shit!” Lamar exclaimed.

  “Told you,” Ken said. “That’s crazy strength for you.”

  Tall grass on three sides of the bear trap bore blood droplets, suggesting that it took Wade more than one attempt to open the trap. A quick search of the immediate perimeter revealed a faint blood trail leading south past the ravine.

  “He couldn’t have gone far. Fan out and search,” Ken instructed the others.

  “Woah, hold the phone,” Lamar jumped in. “This place is littered with bear traps. We’re not risking life and limb on a stupid plan like that.”

  Coop and Gaby both nodded their agreement.

  “Are you trying to tell me what to do?” Ken intoned, bristling at the challenge to his authority.

  “No, I’m telling you what the rest of us won’t do,” Lamar retorted, holding up the blood-speckled chain of the trap so Ken could see. “Do you want this to happen to us?”

  Ken looked to Coop and Gaby and read the same resistance in their body language. His face grew flush with anger.

  “It was my plan that saw us through last night, my leadership that drove Wade away!” Ken raged, as though he were the hero of Quehanna. “And it was my rules that kept everyone safe; that is, until Naturalized Nancy here decided to play hooky, and you see how that went! If it weren’t for me, you would all be dead right now! And all you people do is complain! Fine, if that’s what you want!”

  Ken stripped off his leather bomber jacket and seated it on Lamar’s shoulders with a flourish as though he were ceding the mantle of leadership. It looked comically oversized on him.

  “If you fucktards would rather listen to a basement-dwelling loser who thinks Nutella is one of the four basic food groups instead of the CEO of a company with 70 employees, knock yourselves the fuck out!” Ken fumed. “Have fun playing scoutmaster!”

  “But I don’t want command,” Lamar trailed off, embarrassed at all the attention.

  “Hang on,” Coop interjected. “I thought you said you had 75 employees.”

  “Zip it, pillow-biter!” Ken fairly screamed, pointing an accusatory finger at Coop before turning on his heels and stomping his way north.

  “Ken, the camp’s west,” Gaby called after him.

  “I’m taking a leak first,” Ken declared. “Anybody got a problem with that?”

  “I thought we were supposed to stick together,” Coop offered timidly.

  “I don’t do performance art, ya fucking pervert!” Ken shot back, eliciting an eye roll from Coop as he stormed off into the forest.

  Gaby let out a deep sigh of relief once Ken was out of earshot.

  “I don’t know how much more of his ‘leadership’ I can stomach,” Gaby groaned, her disgust nearly palpable.

  “He’s getting worse by the minute,” Coop said, nodding his agreement. “I’m starting to think Wade is a better option.”

  Gaby rounded on Coop.

  “Joking! I’m just joking,” he insisted, putting up his hands defensively and taking a step back.

  The on
ly one who didn’t weigh in was Lamar, who hadn’t said a word since Ken’s meltdown. He was staring intently at the leather jacket Ken had draped over his shoulders, seemingly deep in thought.

  “Lamar, you’re unusually quiet,” Gaby offered. “What do you think?”

  Lamar stroked his goatee several seconds before replying.

  “Maybe I should go talk to him.”

  “No, that’s a bad idea,” Coop insisted, shaking his head emphatically. “Ken isn’t exactly in a talking-things-out frame of mind at the moment.”

  “I agree,” Gaby chimed in. “We need to wait until he’s calmed down. And when we do confront him, it should be as a group. Strength in numbers.”

  “Yeah, I think a little one-on-one chat would help,” Lamar said to himself, as if he hadn’t heard a word the others said. The far away look in his eyes vanished and serenity filled the void, as though he’d just made some pivotal decision and was at peace with it.

  “Whoa, danger, Will Robinson!” Coop said, the alarm in his voice beginning to show. “This will not end well.”

  “Trust me,” Lamar said, exuding a level of confidence that seemed wildly disproportionate to the task, given Ken’s increasingly volatile behavior. “I can reason with him.”

  Gaby and Coop exchanged worried glances that silently communicated a single message: Lamar’s gone bonkers.

  “You sure you don’t want us to come with you?” Gaby offered. “Just in case?”

  Lamar shook his head and, improbably, smiled.

  “Naw. I got this.”

  “If you say so,” Coop replied none too confidently as Lamar followed Ken’s path north into the forest.

  “Did we miss something there?” Gaby asked him.

  “It kinda feels that way, doesn’t it?”

  * * * * * *

  Lamar found Ken some 100 yards north of the meadow, facing the opposite direction as he whizzed into a pile of leaves at the foot of a gnarled maple tree. He’d set his spear and backpack against a rock jutting out of the ground and seemed to be muttering to himself.

  “Buncha fucking ingrates,” he mumbled bitterly. “When they come crawling back …”

  Ken let his sentence linger, as though he were still contemplating what he’d do if that ever happened.