Without Virtue

by Trevor Scott

  “What’s up?” Max asked.

  The men looked frustrated and concerned. The one with a long beard said, “Some assholes came by last night and took our canoe.”

  “Let me guess,” Max said. “Four men in two aluminum canoes?”

  “How’d you know?”

  “Lucky guess.” There wasn’t anything he could do for these men at this time, so he said, “Listen, we’re heading to Snowbank right now. We’ll send someone to pick you up.”

  The second man pointed at them and said, “Did they do the same to you? Three in a canoe isn’t normal up here.”

  “Let’s just say we’re looking for these men. You’re lucky they didn’t hurt you.”

  “One of them pointed a gun at us,” the bearded man said. “They also took our food and sleeping bags.”

  “Which way did they head?”

  “Same way you’re going.”

  “What kind of canoe did they take?”

  “A red Old Town. It was my father’s back in the day.”

  Max thanked them and repeated that he would send someone after them.

  They paddled back to the other canoe and Max told them what had happened. Then they continued on toward the first portage. It was at least a mile to the longer 144-rod portage into Snowbank. The second portage was right next to that, but it would take them into Parent Lake on two portages of about 95 rods each.

  As they pushed on, they came upon a familiar island.

  Pam pointed her paddle and said, “That’s the island where they took me from.”

  Just as she said this, Max saw something in the water. He slowed his canoe and turned toward the object. It was a scuttled aluminum canoe.

  “They must not have been able to fix the leak,” Donny said.

  “Let’s hope they’re far ahead of us,” Kim said.

  Max knew that was the proper sentiment, but deep down he wanted another encounter with them—especially after hearing about what they had done to Pam and Judy.

  In seconds, he knew that his deep-seeded wish could come true. Max first saw the flash of silver and red through the corner of his eye. As he turned to bring them into focus, he saw the two canoes down the narrow side between the island and the mainland. He quickly looked at them through his binoculars and confirmed his worst fears.

  “Is that them?” Robin asked.

  “Yes,” Max said. Then to the others he said, “We need to dig in and get to the portage.”

  “Don’t let them get us,” Judy cried.

  “That’s not gonna happen,” Max said with determination. “Dig in with everything you have.”

  All six of them seemed to be in perfect synch now as they bucked the wind toward the portage.

  “How far to the portage?” Max asked.

  Donny said, “About a mile. We can make it.”

  Max knew they could beat the men there, but he wasn’t sure they could hike to the other side of the portage before the men caught up with them. Those men didn’t even have their packs.

  Just as they rounded a point, the winds picked up and the dark clouds burst with lightning in the distance. Max knew the rain would be on them in minutes. Worse yet was the prospect of being out on these lakes with lightning.

  Glancing over his shoulder, Max saw that the two canoes were moving fast in their direction. He was afraid that their weight was dragging them in the water. The other canoes sat much higher and glided over the water instead of cutting through it.

  Seconds later, Max heard the distinct sound of a gunshot. Then another. And another.

  22

  Max knew the effective range of his handgun, and he had to assume that the shooters behind him were wasting their bullets until they got closer. The most popular handgun was the 9mm, and based on the sound of the gun, he guessed the men were firing those as well.

  He would hold his fire and keep paddling until he had no choice.

  “Should we fire back?” Robin asked over her shoulder from the bow.

  “Not yet,” Max said. “Push hard.”

  They rounded another small point and the rain started to fall, peppering them right in the face. Soon the infrequent drops turned to an all-out deluge.

  Max turned his canoe slightly to pull up closer to the second canoe. Then he said to Donny, “Take them to the portage. You can beat us there.” There was no doubt that the three locals were much stronger canoeists.

  “We’re not leaving you,” Kim yelled from the bow of the other canoe.

  “Just ditch your packs into the woods,” Max demanded. “Take only the canoes across the portage, or the men will catch up. I’ll slow them down a little.”

  Donny didn’t answer, but he did acknowledge Max with a nod.

  “Trust me,” Max said. “We’ll be right behind you.” He was mostly concerned that Kim, with her bad ankle, could need extra time on the portage.

  Now, Max vectored away from the other canoe slightly before digging in deep to launch them forward. Soon, the other canoe was making progress ahead of them, pulling away as planned.

  Robin turned briefly and said, “What are you doing?”

  “You two keep paddling,” he yelled. “I’m going to shoot a couple of times at them to get their attention.”

  Max quickly shoved his paddle into the canoe, drew his Glock from his hip, and shot three times toward the approaching canoes. Even with his elevated shots, he guessed his bullets would not have struck his target. But they seemed to get their attention, slowing their pursuit.

  As Max holstered his gun and went back to paddling, a couple of guys from the other canoes started shooting at them again. He guessed they too weren’t coming close to hitting them. In fact, Max had managed to do two things—allow the other canoe to get much farther ahead, and even their canoe had spread the distance somewhat.

  Now it was a race to the portage. All of them dug in deep as they propelled their canoe forward through the heavy rain and against the forceful winds.

  Lightning struck all around them as the dark clouds swept in from the west. The winds seemed to swirl and shift from the west to the south and back again.

  Ahead, the canoe with Donny, Kim and Pam rounded what must have been the final point into the isolated bay that led to their portage.

  Max could see the water change ahead. The tiny bay was much more sheltered. They would be able to cruise into the portage faster, he thought.

  The men behind them continued to shoot periodically, making Max a little nervous as they closed the distance somewhat. But he kept the crew paddling with all their might, propelling them toward their goal.

  In seconds, they rounded the final point and now Max could see that their other canoe had reached the portage. The three in that canoe were hurrying to get everything out. Donny carried their two packs into the woods and threw them out of sight. Then Kim helped Pam hoist the canoe onto her back. Next, Donny helped Kim as they all disappeared over a small hill toward Snowbank Lake.

  “What about our packs?” Robin asked over her shoulder.

  “You carry yours,” he said. “You might need the other gun.”

  “I can carry your bigger pack,” Judy said.

  “Are you sure?” he asked.

  “Positive,” the young girl said.

  “Alright,” Max said. “I’ve got the canoe and you two take the packs and run as fast as you can to catch up to the others.”

  With the lighter waves, they made up quick time to the portage. When they got to shore, Max drove the canoe right up onto the mossy land. Then they all scurried to get out, pulling the canoe onto shore. Max helped the girls with their packs as he watched the two canoes round the final point and close in on them. Within seconds, Max knew they would be able to fire on them.

  To hopefully slow them down somewhat, Max pulled his gun and aimed high, shooting three more times. When he turned, he saw that Robin and Judy had gone over the top of the hill. His shots had slowed them down. In fact, they had come to a full stop, figuring Max could j
ust wait there and be much more accurate as they got closer.

  The delay was perfect. Max holstered his gun and whipped the canoe onto his back. Then he nearly ran up the hill with the canoe.

  He could finally see Robin and Judy ahead on the trail, so Max slowed his pace to theirs.

  “I’m right behind you,” Max said loudly. “Keep pushing. I slowed them down slightly.”

  One hundred forty-four rods equaled about .45 miles, so Max knew he would need to let the girls set the pace over the rough terrain. They traveled up and down and through a long swampy area, where they needed to travel over boards placed there by the Forest Service workers.

  Eventually, Robin and Judy caught up with Donny, who was helping Kim with her hurt ankle.

  “Are you all right?” Robin asked.

  “It’s just slow going,” Donny said.

  Max came up alongside them and set the back of the canoe down. “What’s up? We need to get going.”

  “We’re going as fast as we can,” Kim said with pain.

  “How much farther?” Max asked.

  Donny shrugged and said, “We’re over halfway there.”

  “Take the canoe,” Max ordered Donny. “I’ll help Kim.”

  Donny got under the canoe and put the yoke on his shoulder. Within seconds, he was off and running down the trail after Robin and Judy.

  “Where’s your sister?” Max asked.

  Kim laughed. “Probably at end of the portage already.”

  “Okay,” he said. “I’m gonna carry you for a while.”

  “You don’t have to. . .”

  Without waiting, he slung Kim over his shoulder and started off toward Snowbank Lake. She was like carrying a small child compared to those he had been required to carry in the military. And even a quarter mile would be nothing to accomplish, he thought.

  Soon, Max could see the outline of the lake ahead, which gave him increased strength to push it to the end of the portage. The last part of the trail was a downward slope all the way to the lake.

  Waiting for them and out of breath, the others sat to rest while Max carried Kim to the lakefront. Then he gently set her on the moss beneath a patch of cedars.

  “Wow,” Pam said. “He’s a beast.”

  “He’s just showing off,” Robin said, digging into her pack and retrieving her brother’s second gun and two more full magazines.

  Without forethought, Max said, “It ain’t over yet. You need to get going. Donny at the stern of that one, with Robin in the bow. Pam at the stern of the other, with Kim in the bow.”

  “Judy comes with me,” Pam said.

  “Wait,” Kim said to Max. “What about you?”

  Robin handed her brother the second gun and magazines. “He’s staying here.”

  “Get going,” Max demanded. “I’ll slow them down.”

  Nobody thought it best to argue with Max. They got into their canoes and Max pushed them off.

  “We’ll head to my place,” Donny said. “They won’t know about my cabin.”

  “No problem,” Max said. “I’ll meet you there.”

  Shoving the spare gun and magazines into his backpack, Max swapped out the partially-used magazine in his gun for a full 17-round magazine and headed down the portage trail toward the four men.

  Having traveled this portage twice now, he had a plan in his mind. There was no way these men would catch up with his sister and the others.

  Before heading up the hill, Max stopped and glanced one last time at their two canoes heading out into the heavy waves running straight into the wind on this large lake. They were having a rough time of it, with water splashing over the bow with each stroke. He knew they would have to do everything in their power just to stay afloat.

  Now he turned and ran up the hill.

  •

  The leader of the pack showed the first signs of concern when they had been forced to halt their pursuit out in the bay in front of the portage. He had ordered them to stop and wait. If they pushed forward at that moment, they would travel right into that crazy man’s line of fire. He could pick them off one by one before they reached shore. Who was that asshole? He was relentless. Fearless. Stupid.

  Once that man finally threw the canoe on his back like a college student slips a book back over his shoulders, the leader ordered his men to hurry ashore. This was a long portage, and the four of them should be able to catch the group of women and that one man without much effort. He thought about that unlikely group. What brought them together?

  He pushed that from his mind as they came ashore and piled out of the canoes. They had been lucky to find the new red canoe as the aluminum one kept leaking from the bullet holes. It would have stayed afloat, he thought, but why chance it. Taking a canoe was nothing in the grand scheme of things.

  Two of them would each carry a canoe halfway, while the other two kept their guns out and remained vigilant—one in front and the other taking up the rear. Then they would switch to be fair and to keep everyone fresh.

  A pack was never truly equitable, he knew. But he liked to think of himself as a benevolent leader.

  23

  Max got to the highest point on the portage and found a place behind a couple of thick white pines. From here he would have superior position over the four men. It was always harder to climb and fire from a low position than from high up looking down. He only wished he had one of his long guns right now.

  As he waited, he thought about what he could legally do to these men. He knew he could never get into a position where he was the judge and executioner, but he needed to make sure the men understood their situation. Then they could decide their course of action. Max would protect himself. That was a given. And he would not be the first to fire.

  But his mind couldn’t ignore the obvious. These men had kidnapped two women and brutally raped them repeatedly over a number of days. Facts hard to forget.

  Max heard the men coming before he saw them. They were jabbering about something, but Max couldn’t discern their words. At least not until they came into view a couple of hundred yards down the hill.

  Now their words started to echo through the forest. They were talking about their recent activities at the rape camp. Even more horrifying, perhaps, was how these men compared this experience to last year in Thailand. Then they brought up other adventures over the years, and Max got a knot in his stomach.

  When the men got within a hundred yards, Max prepared himself, pointing his gun toward the edge of the bark on the large pine.

  Not yet, he thought. Wait for a second. They needed to reach a spot within range, just in case they decided to fire on him. And at that point they would have very little cover from large trees.

  Fifty yards. Not yet, Max.

  The men were laboring with the hill, out of breath from the hike with the canoes on their backs. The man in front had a semi-auto handgun in his right hand. Same with the trailing man.

  Thirty yards. Now!

  “Federal Agent,” Max yelled. “Drop your weapons and raise your hands.”

  The four men stopped dead in their tracks. The lead man raised his gun and aimed it in Max’s direction. But Max had yelled and hidden behind the tree. Only his gun and one eye would be visible to them.

  “Who the hell are you?” one of the men yelled back.

  The men carrying the canoes swiveled and banged into each other, nearly knocking the canoes off their shoulders. The trailing man had moved forward. Was he their leader?

  “Put your guns down,” Max demanded again.

  “Fuck you,” the leader said.

  The man who had been in front opened fire first, shooting in Max’s relative direction.

  Max returned fire three times, dropping the man like a bag of potatoes onto the spongy soil.

  Now the other man returned fire, forcing Max to retreat behind the tree momentarily. Bullets struck the tree in front of him, but Max just waited.

  Silence.

  As he peered around the tree,
Max saw that the men carrying the canoes had dropped them and now had their guns out. Worse yet, they rushed into the woods on either side of the portage trail. They were trying to flank him. But Max was expecting this.

  Retreating over the hill, Max ran down the portage trail, weaving through a narrow patch of thicker forest. He knew that he didn’t need to stop the men forever, but he did need to slow them down long enough to let his people get back to the safety of Donny’s house.

  When Max reached a thick cedar and balsam fir patch, he set himself up for his next showdown.

  The rain started to fall heavily again, but he was protected here by the cedars. He worried about his sister and the others out on the large lake.

  Then his mind reeled back to reality. Who had he shot? It was the fat man. The one the girls had called the salesman.

  He had shot only three times, so he had plenty of bullets left in his magazine.

  Max knew that he was under no other obligation to warn these men. They were now pursuing him, tracking him like a pack of wolves would to an old moose.

  He saw movement in the trees, but he didn’t fire. Not yet. He waited. Where were the others?

  Max was only ten yards off of the portage trail. He needed to protect that with his life. They couldn’t get past him.

  Suddenly, a salvo of gunshots broke the silence, forcing Max to shove his body behind a cedar. He twisted his hand around the tree and fired a number of shots.

  This back and forth continued until Max ran out of rounds, his slide slapping back over his hand. He quickly shoved in a new magazine and considered taking out his second gun to have one in each hand, but he knew his accuracy would suffer. No. Keep that second gun in reserve, he thought.

  He saw a flash of movement to his left and realized he had let a man get too far around him on that side. Now he had to move or be killed.

  Max ran deeper into the woods, finding protection behind an even bigger cedar tree. Just as he stopped running, two men fired on him from different locations.

  Where was the third man?

  Max yelled at the men, “If you recall, I took the identifications of two of you. I have already called in your names to my fellow federal agents. They will be waiting for you at your homes in the Twin Cities.”