Without Virtue

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Without Virtue Page 13

by Trevor Scott


  “Bullshit!” one man screamed back at him.

  “You know it’s true,” Max said. “Not to mention the fact that the two young women will identify you as kidnappers and rapists. When you add in murder of a federal employee, your charges could include the death penalty.” This wasn’t true, of course. But it sounded good.

  “Don’t listen to him,” one of the men yelled to the other. Then to Max he screamed, “We don’t know nothing about that.”

  Max heard a noise to his right. When he realized what it was, he wasn’t sure what to do. All he could see was a red canoe gliding through the forest some twenty yards away. He couldn’t even get a shot at the man. Based on the height, the man carrying the canoe had to be the tall man he had encounter before. Was he the medical guy?

  He could see only brief glimpses of the two men out in the cedars. Max needed to stop the man with the canoe. So, he aimed at the man to his left and fired at the tree quickly a number of times, then he shifted to his right and fired on that man repeatedly. Then he ran.

  As Max rushed through the forest toward the portage, he weaved in and out of trees, the sounds of gunfire trailing him and bullets striking trees all around him.

  Once he reached the portage trail, he holstered his gun and ran after the man carrying the red canoe. He easily caught up with the man, but then had to decide how to attack.

  His hesitation lasted only a few steps, until he saw that the man had holstered his own gun.

  Max rushed the man and hit the back of the canoe, which twisted on the man’s shoulders, the torque and weight of the canoe sending it flying to the ground. The man turned and went for his gun, but Max was too fast. He hit the man with his shoulder, lifting him off the ground and pile-driving him into the wet, muddy surface.

  Somehow, the man was able to get his hand on his gun and fired once through his holster.

  Max pulled his knife from his left hip and shoved it into the man’s right arm forcing his hand from the gun. Then the man punched at Max, catching him once on the side of his head. With a second stroke, Max shoved the knife into the man’s chest and twisting it in a tight C.

  With the knife breaking the plural cavity and entering the guy’s lungs, the man fought for air. Max rolled off the guy and drew his gun again. But this guy wasn’t going anywhere but Hell, Max thought.

  He turned, expecting to see the two other men coming after him. But that didn’t happen. At least not yet.

  Where were they, he wondered.

  He had two choices—continue after them, or make a tactical retreat.

  When he suddenly felt a sharp pain in his left hip, he glanced down and saw that the man had hit him, grazing him. He was bleeding, but not too much.

  The man wheezed on the ground in front of him. He considered putting a bullet in the man’s head, but that would have been too humane. Who knew what these men had planned to do with Pam and Judy when they were done with them? No. He would let God decide when to take his life.

  Max holstered his gun again and reconsidered his options. He could have used his brothers in special forces right about now.

  Then it came to him. The men might be heading back to take the other canoe. What if they simply backed out and went to the two shorter portages. They could still get to Snowbank Lake that way. It would surely take much longer, but they would escape.

  Instead of rushing back to find out if the men had backtracked, Max decided on the most logical course of action. He checked on the red Old Town canoe and saw that it was fine. Two paddles had been weaved under the front seat struts.

  Before leaving, he glanced at the man he had been forced to stab. He had stopped breathing, his eyes staring up to the sky, as if praying for forgiveness. Max knew that God was all about forgiving sins, but he hoped that the man’s prayers had not been answered. He imagined instead that the man’s soul was drifting somewhere deep in Hell.

  With pain aching in his left hip, Max lifted the old red canoe to his shoulder and hurried toward Snowbank Lake. Once he got to the edge of the lake, he quickly set down the canoe and found his SAT phone. He called the 911 dispatcher in Ely, explaining his situation, and telling them to make sure all canoeists completely avoided the portages into both Parent Lake and Disappointment Lake. When he told them about two dead bodies on the portage trail, he got their attention.

  Now he still had two choices. He could make one last stand at the portage trailhead into Disappointment Lake, or he could get in the canoe and try to cross through the heavy waves, which were breaking as whitecaps right now. But it wasn’t just that, he thought. Clouds were turning darker and lightning was striking the area near Ely in the distance.

  When he heard the men coming, their aluminum canoe tapping a few trees, Max decided to move out. He had no defensive position along the lakeshore.

  He pulled out both paddles, set one within reach inside the canoe and held the other one as he got in and pushed off.

  Max bucked the wind and the rain to gain distance away from the portage. He had to quickly shift from right to left strokes to keep the canoe running straight. Even then, it seemed like he would take two strokes forward and drift back between strokes.

  Once he got some distance, he turned and saw that the last of the two men had reached the shore and were putting in their canoe. With two paddlers, they would easily catch him, he thought.

  Yet, he was never one to give up. He dug in deep and paddled with all his strength.

  24

  Robin had never been so cold in July in her life. The rain had soaked them while crossing Snowbank Lake, and the wind whipped right through them. Her muscles stiffened as she struggled to dig her paddle deep into the dark water to propel them toward the other side of the lake.

  She had noticed that the young girl, Judy, had hunkered down and wrapped herself into a ball. But water coming over the sides had filled part of both canoes. Yet, they continued on until they reached the far side of the lake and pulled ashore.

  Instead of putting the canoes away, Donny simply tied the bow ropes to trees and tipped them over on the lawn. Then the five of them walked stiffly up the hill to his cabin.

  Once inside, Donny said, “I’ll start a fire. You girls can take a warm shower and get into fresh clothes. Take anything you find in my closets.”

  Robin made sure that Pam and Judy were the first to shower. Judy wasn’t going far from Pam anyway. She helped Kim find some clothes in a spare bedroom closet. Kim was distracted by something she held in a Ziploc bag.

  “What’s that?” Robin asked.

  “My sister saved some DNA,” Kim said. “Your brother put some in two bags, giving one to Pam in case they split up.”

  “The DNA of the men?”

  Kim nodded her head and almost started crying.

  “She’s a smart cookie,” Robin said.

  “She’s a fighter.”

  “She’ll need help.”

  “I know.”

  Robin gave her a long hug and said, “We need to get out of these wet clothes.”

  Kim found three sets of clothes—T-shirts and sweat pants, for each of them. “I’ll take these to the girls.”

  “Then you jump into the shower,” Robin ordered.

  “All right.”

  Then Robin went back to looking in the closet.

  “I don’t know if they’ll fit you,” Donny said from behind her.

  Robin turned and said, “We’ll make it work. We’re the only ones with our packs. Maybe something in there stayed dry.”

  “I should have made sure you packed everything in plastic,” Donny said. “That’s the way of the Boundary Waters.”

  He was right. Robin couldn’t find anything to wear that would fit her. Instead, she found her pack that she left at the back-door mud room and pulled out her clothes. But she had packed her clothes in garbage bags, so she found dry clothes there.

  She found a place to change into dry clothes and wandered back into the living room, where Donny had built a blazi
ng fire in the stone fireplace.

  Pam and Judy came out looking refreshed but still not pristine. There seemed to be a newfound angst on each of their faces. Perhaps the realization of what had happened to them in the past few days was finally starting to set in.

  Donny took a seat next to Robin and said, “I hate to bring this up, but not long after we got onto Snowbank, I’m pretty sure I heard gunshots back toward the portage.”

  “I know. I heard them too.”

  “Will your brother be alright?”

  Donny and the other girls all looked at Robin for an answer. Honestly, she wasn’t sure. But she said, “I’d be worried if there were about twice as many men. My brother can handle four guys with handguns.”

  Kim put her hand on Robin’s knee. “Did you say that he was dating someone?”

  Suddenly, there was a knock on the back door.

  Everyone jumped.

  Donny got up and went to answer it, but Robin went after him.

  Standing on the stoop was a police officer in uniform. It was the tall Ely Police Chief Bram Simmons.

  “You made good time,” Donny said. Then to Robin he said, “I called them as soon as I got home.”

  “Hey, Donny,” Bram said. “I hear you found the two missing girls.”

  “They’re in warming up.”

  The police chief nodded his head. “We’ll need to talk with them. I made sure to tell the Forest Service where to find them. They’ll also need to talk with the girls. But right now, we have a situation. We got a call from an unnamed man saying he had killed two men and we could find the dead men on the portage trail between Snowbank and Disappointment. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”

  “That must have been a SAT phone call from my brother,” Robin said. “You need to help him.”

  The police chief raised his hands. “County search and rescue and the Forest Service have both put in boats to check on it. Do you know who these dead men might be?”

  “Yeah,” Robin said, “the same people who kidnapped the young ladies and raped them repeatedly. They also murdered the other Forest Service employee. What you people said was a bear kill.”

  “That wasn’t me,” the police chief said. “I was in Donny’s camp. We didn’t believe for a minute a bear had killed that young man.”

  “He’s telling the truth,” Donny said.

  The police chief turned to Robin and asked, “What can you tell me about your brother?”

  She quickly explained Max’s background, from his positions in the military and his more recent endeavors as a private investigator. When she was done, the police chief’s eyes seemed to widen.

  “Sounds like a good guy,” the police chief said.

  “You met him,” Robin said. “What you see is what you get with my brother.”

  “Alright,” the police chief said. “I’m gonna head down to the entry point and check on their progress. As you probably know, we don’t have jurisdiction this far out of Ely.”

  “Understood,” Donny said. “Once you find her brother Max, we’ll bring the young ladies down to the station for an interview.”

  “There are still two men on the loose,” Robin reminded the police chief.

  Chief Simmons puffed out his chest and adjusted his service belt. “We’ll get them.”

  Robin wasn’t holding her breath. But she held back her criticism until her brother came back safely. They watched the police chief get back to his patrol car and drive off.

  “You know the chief well?” Robin asked.

  “You could say that. He played basketball with my son in high school.”

  Robin and Donny went back into the living room, where the fireplace had warmed the room considerably. She took a seat on the sofa next to Kim.

  Donny rubbed his hands together and said, “How about I make a couple of pizzas from scratch?”

  That sounded good to everyone.

  •

  Max had gotten onto the massive lake and had a rough time staying ahead of the other canoe. Luckily, he had gotten a head start on them or they would have easily overtaken him. Of course, he had slowed their progress by shooting at the men periodically.

  He rounded a large island into the main part of the lake. Here the waves were even larger. So much so that he couldn’t take them on directly. But when he tacked across them, he nearly capsized many times.

  His situation was exacerbated by the rain and wind, which peppered him relentlessly in the face. His muscles ached from the paddling. But he dug in deep and found the inner strength to continue moving across the open lake.

  Max kept wondering what had happened to the police response. He suspected that mentioning two dead bodies might get them moving. Perhaps they had, and they had simply taken a direct approach around the southern end of the lake. Since Max had gone around the north side of the largest island in the lake, it was possible the law enforcement officers had simply missed him.

  As he checked his position, he knew that he was way off course from running into Donny’s cabin. He would have to come ashore somewhere on the west side of the lake where the wind would be less intense, and then move along the shore until he reached the cabin. He thought about his truck sitting outside Donny’s cabin, knowing he had long rifles in his gun safe, and that he could have finished this a long time ago with those weapons.

  Now he saw that the strength of the lake had not just thrown him off course, it had nearly shoved him north to Canada. Sometimes it was all he could do to simply stay afloat by jamming his paddle to the side of the stern and use it as a rudder.

  The sky got darker as he seemed to make progress toward the opposite shore. Lightning struck the southern end of the lake, the thunder seeming to shake the canoe against the waves. He wasn’t sure how much more he could take without resting. Yet, in his current position, it wasn’t like he could simply stop paddling. If he did that he would end up across the lake against the northeast shoreline.

  He glanced back to see where the other men were. They were gone. How was that possible?

  Then he turned his head to the left and saw the other canoe. The two men had somehow overtaken him, but were at least a quarter of a mile to the south. The waves were so high that his mind had not processed them at first.

  What were they doing? Then it came to him. They had used the strength of two men to get up wind of him. Now they could overtake him without even paddling, Max thought. He was in an untenable position.

  The men continued to dig in deep, propelling their canoe in front of Max. Soon, he fully expected the men to simply turn the bow toward Max and swiftly glide toward him, shooting along the way. Max had to be ready for them.

  The deeper Max shoved his paddle the harder his muscles worked to maintain his course. Finally, almost two thirds of the way across the lake, Max knew he had to keep some of his power in reserve—just in case he needed it. Now he slowed his drive toward the far shore. If the men did turn with the wind now, they would cut across his bow and give Max a better shot.

  Then, just as Max had thought, the men in the aluminum canoe let the wind cut their bow to the north, swinging them ninety degrees toward Max.

  Max held on tight to the paddle as a rudder, trying to keep the waves from capsizing him. Within seconds, the men were cutting across his bow. He put his paddle across the gunnel and lowered himself as far as he could into the canoe to cut down his signature.

  The man in the bow started shooting at Max, his bullets striking the front of the Old Town Kevlar canoe.

  Max returned fire in a slow, methodical rate. He heard a number of his bullets strike the aluminum canoe, but he didn’t hit the men.

  Now the man in the stern also started shooting, but it was too late. By now the waves had drawn them out of range.

  Pulling himself back onto his seat, Max holstered his gun and jammed his paddle deep into the water to turn the canoe directly into the waves. He paddled hard and fast to gain some distance before the other men had a chance
to turn around. Maybe they would capsize while turning, Max hoped.

  After a couple hundred yards, closer to the west bank now, Max finally glanced over his shoulder toward the other canoe. He had left them behind for now.

  He tried to remember how many bullets he had shot and how many that were left in his current magazine. But the numbers weren’t coming to him. He must have been close to running out. Max had one partial magazine left in his pocket, but he also had his second gun and two extra full magazines. So, he needed to keep his small pack on his back.

  Max was able to maintain separation across the last part of the lake. Part of this was due to the wind slowing somewhat and the trees on the west shoreline protecting him, and the other part was the fact that he was a stronger paddler than those in the aluminum canoe. Also, he might have knocked a few more holes in their canoe, which meant they would be taking on more water. Especially if he had hit the canoe low enough on the craft. Either way, he was just able to maintain his lead on them as he came closer to shore and then turned south along the edge.

  25

  Robin thought she heard gunshots again, but there was no way of knowing for sure, since the thunder and lightning was intense right now. It was so dark outside she thought night was coming already. But that was impossible. It was much too early.

  “You look concerned,” Donny said.

  “Out west we don’t get storms like this,” she said. “We can usually see them sweep across to one side of the city. One area might get drenched and have flash floods, while the rest of the city is bone dry.”

  Donny had just pulled out his homemade pizzas and he began to cut them. “I’ve heard about that.”

  “It’s like night out there,” she said, not wanting to bring up the fact that she might have heard gunshots.

  He finished cutting the last pizza and then set the roller cutter into the sink. Turning to Robin, he said, “I know you’re not just concerned about the storm.”

 

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