by JD Salyers
But where is Melody? She had to have been dragged away - no other way would she leave her son. By who? This man? His accomplice? Someone else?
Is that why Landon left? To find her?
The blanket falls away from the man's arms and puddles on the ground, and Landon realizes that he's mistaken - the child isn't an infant. More a toddler, with little fat legs that hang down nearly to the man's thigh. When the man stoops to pick it up, Landon gets his first good look at the child's features in the light.
It's definitely James, just a little older than Landon thought at first. The cheekbones and pink little lips, the flop of dark hair - too dark for a baby's delicate skin tone. Yes, it's his son, and he's in the hands of some stranger.
Landon's anger surges again, and his hand goes back to the butt of the pistol. This time he doesn't pull away or try to calm himself. This time he's pretty sure he's going to need some firepower.
22
Landon is ninety-nine percent ready to make a move when someone else comes through the trees and into the campsite. Another man, this one more wiry and closer to Landon's build. Landon stops mid-draw and studies the situation more closely.
Did the other man take Melody away? He's talking fast to stranger number one, waving his hands. They look on the verge of arguing, and the new man seems worried about something, punctuating his hand movements with a pointed finger at the first man's chest. Then he points away, back down the trail.
The first man shakes his head, uses his free hand to pull a cell phone from his pocket, checks the screen, and hands it over with a shrug. He points the other way, into the woods. Landon looks, confused for a moment, then remembers that the path to the parking area is that way, opposite the trail to the river. The way his little family always goes when it's time to carry out the tents and other gear and head for home.
The second man takes the phone and heads that way, his face pinched with either anger or worry. Landon can't tell, but it's obvious that something is going wrong. But what? What are these guys up to, and why do they have his baby? Where is Melody? What did they do with her?
He steps back a little, into the trees, to think about this for a moment. He wants to go in and get his child. He wants to know if they've hurt Melody, because he will drop them where they stand if they did. And of course they've hurt her - she wouldn't be away from little James if she could help it. She wouldn't leave him with strangers and go running off into the woods, or wherever. She was the kind of mother who wanted to stay home because she couldn't stand the thought of putting him with a sitter. In the dark, in these conditions, she wouldn't do it.
Would she? All of his memories and all of the things he thought he knew were jumbled and sharp in his mind, like shards of glass. But he did remember the conversation about the sitter, and her demand that no one could care for her baby like she could.
He just couldn't seem to picture her face when she said it.
He also remembered holding little James, rocking him, making baby faces to coax a giggle. That smile that always filled his heart, and those blue eyes that shone like diamonds, looking at Landon like he was the most wonderful person in the world. Yes, it's dark, and yes his view is obstructed, but he knows his child's face.
The man who left with the phone comes back, talks with the other for a moment, and then heads back down the trail toward the river. His face is either angry or afraid, Landon can't tell, since he's turned away from the fire.
It will be easier to deal with these men one at a time. Landon pulls his gun.
Warning signals go off in his head. He remembers that he heard a gunshot earlier, or at least he was pretty sure that's what it was. Had it come from these guys? Were they armed? He looked, but the baby's blanket and the man's jacket hid any weapon he might be wearing. In any case, he needed to act as if they were armed, because if he had to kill this man, the other would hear.
So he waits, leaning hard against a tree trunk. He tries to keep from moving too much, because if he shakes the leaves - or worse, falls - and indicates that someone else is here, he'll lose his element of surprise.
These two had to have dragged him off somewhere and left him for dead, probably to get Melody alone. The thought makes him nauseous and he swallows it down. He doesn't want to think about his wife right now, because then he'd do something rash.
At the same time, he knows the clock is ticking. She might not be alive even now, but if she is, she'll need help as soon as possible. She's probably terrified and hurt, wherever she is, and his heart burns with the need to hurry up and do something. Melody has always depended on him, and he can't let her down right when she needs him the most.
He's still considering how to handle this mess when the rain sets in again. He's only partially covered under the tree's wide limbs, and most of him is numb at the moment, but it's still freezing and uncomfortable. His good leg is aching from holding most of his weight, but he can’t even shift without pain shooting through his entire body. He can barely feel the wood grips of his pistol against his palm. He's going to have to do something soon, carefully or not.
Also, he knows that this man is young, and apparently healthy. Landon, hurt, won't win in a hand to hand fight, not with his injuries. He'll need to incapacitate the guy before he even shows himself. The only way he can see to do that is with the gun in his hand.
If the man will just put James down, he'll make his move. Hopefully it happens soon. He doesn't want to risk the baby.
The man holds the baby and paces around the fire, looking up every once in a while. When he does, Landon can see his lips moving. He seems to be talking to the baby, but every once in a while he looks toward the sky, too. He seems agitated. Maybe as impatient as Landon feels. What is he worried about?
And where did the other man go? Landon wonders if he shouldn't have followed him, maybe found Melody before...he didn't want to think about that. Melody, if she was here to ask, would tell him to take care of the baby first. He knows she would, without even thinking about it.
Of course, he doesn't agree. The two of them are young. It would be a tragedy if something happened to the baby, but they could have another. There is only one Melody, and he needs her. If there is such a thing as one true love, she is his. Also, they’ve only been married for a couple of years - there is still so much to share with her. He wants them to have a long and happy life together, even if there is never another baby.
He's about to try to fade back into the trees and follow the trail of the other man when the guy at the fire finally goes into the tent, puts the baby inside, and after what seems like an hour but isn't, comes back out alone. The man goes back to the fire and paces faster, his hands balled into tight fists.
Landon listens for more movement in the woods around them, which is difficult with the wind and rain blowing over the top of the mountain. He can't even hear the river down below. When he's finally as sure as he's gonna get that the other guy isn't coming back, he knows he's got to move. He grips the pistol in his right hand, tight, and steps just far enough out of the treeline to get a clear shot. He takes a breath, lines it up as a gut shot. He needs this man to tell him what's going on.
Hold steady.
Something stills his hand. The shot feels clear, the idea is right - he needs to bring this guy down. Just do it, for crying out loud. Melody might not have time. What was keeping him from the shot? Something. Maybe it's just the idea of shooting a man, but he can't back off because of that wishy-washy crap. He has to act, before something even worse happens. That other guy might be hurting Melody right now, while he's standing here wasting time.
Yet the feeling won’t go away. It’s like a warning bell in his head. Stop, stop, stop. What is he missing? He shakes off the feeling and takes aim again.
23
James ignores his churning gut and watches Peter come off the trail into camp. He knows without asking that Peter found nothing, just from the look on his face. He thinks again about taking Jakey to Arlo's wife so
that he can help search. The problem is that by the time he gets down there, even on the four-wheeler, it might be too late. Either they will find Landon, or they won't, and him taking risks with the baby won't raise the better odds at all.
It's best if he stays right here, but damn, it's hard. He needs to be searching, but as much as he loves his dad, Jakey's well-being is far more important. Anger flares for a moment - at Landon, his mom, even Janice, but mostly at himself. He should have made them tell him what was going on. He should have followed his own instinct and put off the trip. Even reminding himself that he couldn't have known doesn't help - there were plenty of signals that something wasn't right, even if he didn't know the exact cause.
So now he's stuck here in the worst possible situation - his father lost and possibly hurt, and not a single thing he can do about it.
He turns away from the fire, waits for his eyes to adjust, and scans the tree line that surrounds the camp. This site sits just below the crest of the mountain, under a pretty sheer cliff edge below and steep forested ground above. Landon's piece is flatter, a small outcarving in the mountain's ascent.
He sees nothing at all - well, not true. There are too many shadows to count. They all blend together in shades of gray and brown, and the only light is what little that filters over from the fire. He drags his flashlight from his pocket and flicks it on, then aims it, three feet at a time, toward the trees all around. The direction that Landon and Jakey had gone earlier was as black as night, like a curtain had been pulled over the whole area. Farther up the mountain, he moves the light more slowly, something making him take care. Tension creeps along his shoulders. The hair on the back of his neck stands up.
Peter is soaked to the bone. His hands and face are white with cold. He comes straight to the fire to warm himself.
"Anything?" James asks unnecessarily.
Peter shakes his head. "It's like he disappeared into thin air." He pauses. "Were you shooting earlier?"
James blinks. “Nope. I heard it, too, but it wasn't me. Seemed to be coming from somewhere down near the river."
Peter nods. "Has Michael checked in? I'm a little bit worried about him."
"No. Why are you worried?"
Peter looked up. "His attitude didn't seem...off...to you?"
James shrugs. "Of course it did. His wife is dying, and you're an ass if you think that won't bother him. Maybe you should come around more often and hang out with the rest of us once in a while."
Peter takes a step back. "Whoa, dude. I was just asking you about Michael. I was kinda worried about him."
James looks away, scans the tree line again. "Sorry. Just having a bad night, I guess."
Peter turns on him and jabs a finger in the general direction of his chest. "We all are. You act like you're the only one around here with feelings. Now we've got Dad to worry about, and you aren't in any position to help. I'm doing what I can, but I was hoping that Michael had turned up something."
"Right. Yeah." James answers absently. He's looking off to his left, just up the hill from where they are standing.
"What?" Peter asks, looking too.
"Do you...does anything up there seem weird to you?" James thinks he sees something out of place, but he can't pinpoint what it might be. Everything is blowing in the wind, and any movement would be lost among the branches. But still, he knows his eyes are seeing something that isn't registering in his brain. But what is it? A color? A motion? Some shape? Everything is so dark, and the trees whipping around don't help matters. "I feel like I'm being watched."
Peter turns and looks for a long moment, then shakes his head. "You're just worried. What a night to be cut off from help out here, you know?"
"Yeah, I doubt they can even get a chopper out here to search with this wind."
Peter cocks his head. "You didn't call and ask?"
"There was barely any signal, and Arlo said..."
Peter sighs. "Give me the phone. I've already checked mine and it ain't working, so let me try yours."
James frowns and hands over the phone, checking for signal. Just the one flickering bar, like before. "Go for it."
"I will."
"Try to call mom again, too, if you get through. She'll be a nervous wreck." James scrubs his hands through his wet hair and squeezes his eyes closed. He's exhausted but too wired to rest - maybe ever again.
"I don't know if that's a good idea, Jimmy. Dad's out on this mountain somewhere, and we don't know if we're ever going to get him back. Don't you think we should let her hold on to her hope for now?"
"That's cruel. As worried as she gets over things, just the phone ringing might be enough to give her a heart attack."
"All of this is cruel. Unless Dad is hanging out up there in the trees watching us go nuts trying to find him, he's in real trouble. He's old and -."
"He's fine. He knows this mountain as well as nearly anyone, and I give him better than even odds to get out of this mess pretty much intact."
"Then where the hell is he?" Peter practically yells in James's face. "Why isn't he here?"
"He's gotten lost. You've heard of this, when people with Alzheimer's get confused. They're usually home a few hours later."
"Usually, sure. But not always, right? Also, people with Alzheimer's get lost a block from their house. They don't tend to get lost in ten thousand acres of wilderness, do they?"
James doesn't even want to think about it, much less have this tiresome discussion. Peter is always so difficult. "Are you going to help or yell at me?"
Peter shakes his head and stalks off toward higher ground, looking for a signal. James lets out a breath and watches him go, then turns his attention back to the spot from earlier. What had he seen, and why isn't that nervy feeling of being watched going away?
There is nothing there now, if there ever was. Maybe his mind is starting to play tricks on him. It wouldn't be the first time, out here in these woods. He and Peter used to spend a good deal of time trying to scare each other half to death. Ghost stories were a staple of their adventures, as were jump scares any time someone wasn't paying attention.
He smiles, remembering the time they tried to jump up from the river bank and scare their mother. She had whacked them both hard with her fishing pole, hard enough to leave welts across their bare arms. Not on purpose - it was more self-defense than any desire to hit them. And she had screamed, screamed like a razorback was eating her.
But she hadn't apologized later, and he didn't blame her. Good times.
This weekend was supposed to be like that. Easy fun and good times. He wishes he could have known what was going on with his dad. That way he could have at least kept an eye out for any potential trouble. Instead, they're blind-sided by a crisis. He wants more than anything to see his dad walk back into camp right now, asking where everyone is and laughing at their worry, but the sinking sensation in his gut tells him that just isn't going to happen.
He sighs and goes to check on the baby, muttering to himself, "Where are you, Dad? Get your butt back here in one piece."
What he refuses to think about, because he just can't handle anymore worry right now, is Michael. He isn't much younger than Dad, and heavier, heavy enough that too much exertion might strain his heart on this mountainside. If that happened they might never find him either. James isn't even sure exactly where he went, other than in the general direction of the river.
He fights off the niggling, worrisome feeling that now they have two old men to find. Surely not. Michael has been here plenty of times with the family and with his dad on their fishing trips, he isn't about to get lost. He won't go far.
This whole trip, in hindsight, seems like it was a terrible idea. What had he been thinking?
Right now he just has to take care of Jakey, keep him safe, and hope that they all get out of this alive.
24
Melody feels the tug in her stomach, the one she always listens to whenever one of the boys is in trouble. She doesn't know where it comes fro
m, or how she knows, but it's right every time.
The funny thing is that it isn't the boys in trouble this time, it's Landon. She's never been able to feel it when Landon was in trouble, but she feels it now. Agitated and all cried out for the moment, she gets up and heads to the kitchen for a drink of water. Outside the house the thunderstorm is in full swing, tearing at the night. Thunder rolls, and it sounds ominous to her. She knows she's too tired, too nervous. She's prayed long enough to get the worst of her fear out of her system, but it's killing her not to know where her boys are, where her husband is.
Janice comes in five minutes later and asks, "Mom? Are you all right?"
Melody blinks. "What? Oh." She realizes that she didn't get her water. She's been standing here staring at the phone all this time. Giving herself a mental shake, she goes to the refrigerator and pulls the pitcher from the shelf. "I'm fine. Just worried. I wish they'd call."
Janice comes over and takes the pitcher from Melody's shaking hands. She pours Melody a glass of water and hands it over, saying, “I suspect that even when they do find Landon they won't necessarily be able to get through. That storm is wicked, and James barely has any service as it is, you know?"
Even as she says it, the electricity flickers. Janice looks automatically toward the hall and Pansy's softly glowing nursery.
"I don't know what to do," Melody says, her voice soft and breaking a little.
"You've prayed, you've worried, and you've told the boys what they need to know. That's all you can do at the moment." She pauses. "If it makes you feel any better, I wish James would call, too. I bet this is driving him crazy."
"Why?"
"Because he's going to be stuck at camp with Jakey, when I know he'll be wanting to join the search." Janice lets out a little laugh. "It's selfish of me, but to be honest I'm kind of glad. I don't know what I'd do if I lost him, Mama Mel."