A Forest of Corpses (21 page)

I could barely hold my head up, in fact it kept rolling forward, digging my chin or my nose in the rich, fecund needle covered loam that smelled of decay and mold. I was chewing on dirt and pine needles, vainly trying to spit them out of a mouth that was bone dry.

Nausea gripped me and I vomited, though nothing but a sour bile came up. The stomach spasm sent raw bolts of pain so pure it transcended my fear. I screamed, but it emerged as a pathetic croak. Still, too loud. Something was out there, listening.

"What was that?" They were back. The two killers. Mutt and Jeff.

"Sounded like a bear to me. Let's get out of here—"

"Weren't no bear. You think you're in some kinda Disney movie?"

"Fuck it was."

"It was a dog,
chocho.
"

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"Dog don't sound like that."

"Maybe you hit it. You ever think of that,
pendejo
? You shot at the damn fool thing often enough."

"Hope so, that was a mean looking
chingada
."

The voices faded as the two of them moved off, or maybe it was just another psychotic delusion. I didn't stop to think.

Thinking was wasted now. All I could do was act. I dug in and pulled myself along. I tried to use my feet to push, but any movement below my chest brought breath-stopping torture and sent me tumbling toward a blackness I knew would be permanent if I let myself slip into it. As comfortable and pain free as it might be, I wouldn't give in like that. Not yet.

Maybe my control of everything else, including my mind, was gone, but I could still control this.

There was no dramatic moment when I broke free of my prison. The ground under me was still loamy and covered with tree debris. I tried to avoid the myriad of sticks and things that dug into my hands and face, nearly poking out my eyes more than once. I was covered in scratches and the bug repellent Jason had lathered on me generously was fading.

The bugs apparently found me delicious. Flies persistently buzzed around my face and the bloody wound at my side.

Whenever I stopped moving they would swarm the torn flesh and fight over the feast. Their buzzing grew in intensity. It was all I could do not to scream. The inflamed flesh was so tender even the minuscule weight of their bodies, the tickle of their feet was agony. But any movement on my part to shoo them off brought equal pain. And the pain was spreading, everything from my neck down was afire. Each time a fresh 198

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spasm passed through me I shuddered, and dug my bleeding fingers into the ground, squeezing my eyes shut to try to ride it out. Each episode left me weaker and weaker.

I tried not to think about what the flies were doing. I'd come across my share of decomposing bodies, riddled with maggots. Laid by the sort of flies that were now lighting on my wound. Is that what they were doing? Turning me into a fly feast?

Then something worse. Squeaking. Mice? Rats? Squirrels don't eat flesh. What else did up here? I never paid any attention to Jason talking about the wilderness animals he loved. I had no idea what was sniffing around me looking for a free lunch.

I pushed on, fleeing from my pain, from the terrible future that awaited me.

Knowing that soon I wasn't going to be able to move at all.

* * * *

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As long as I was in the open I could keep moving fairly quickly. But once the forest canopy closed over my head, I was forced to slow to little more than a crawl. At least that's what it seemed like to me. I reluctantly pulled the miniature flashlight I had pocketed, knowing it would give me away instantly if I was spotted by the killer. I did my best to keep the beam shielded, focusing it on the ground at my feet. Even so, I tripped often and banged into more than one fallen branch, leaving my shins black and blue.

The dog had vanished a long time ago.

I should have slowed down. I was going to hurt myself, or worse. But the knowledge that Alex was up there, at the mercy of the elements and that monster, spurred me past all caution. It would have been nice to wait for the authorities, but they were going to take too long. I didn't even know if they would venture in this far in the dark, or would they set up a perimeter and insist on waiting for dawn?

I wasn't sure Alex had until another dawn, not if he was being hunted.

The nighttime forest was alive with its own sounds.

Creatures sang, the wind shivered through the branches overhead, and once a female Great Horned owl called out.

Soft rustles fled from me and once something larger crashed through the heavy brush away from me. When I raised the flashlight to get a look at the terrain ahead of me, I would catch glimpses of brilliant eyes watching me. But nothing 200

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showed itself, for which I was grateful. The last thing I wanted was a run in with something big enough to cause bodily harm. I kept hearing things move in the darkness. Just out of sight.

Maybe it was the dog coming back. Maybe it was something worse.

The air had grown cool, which was another good thing. It kept my body from overheating and with any luck would keep the local reptiles quiescent.

I came across the bear sign soon after. I found it by literally stepping in it. Something squished under my Merrels and I stepped back, shining my flashlight down around my feet. The scat was fresh, black and runny. Not a good sign.

Fresh meant the bear was still in the area, black and soft meant this particular bear was feasting on flesh someplace.

Probably carrion. Breaking a thin twig off, I prodded the nearest mound. It broke apart, releasing a pungent odor that further confirmed what it was.

I scanned the ground around the scat and the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. A second, smaller mass of scattered excrement. This bear was female, and she had at least one cub. Shining the light around revealed the trail leading north, uphill. I stepped into it and had to crouch to fit inside. Wide enough for two men to walk side by side, but not stand up. A bear trail.

I backed out fast, hyper alert now. My skin was literally crawling as my nerves jumped in anticipation. Fight or flight.

That's what survival always came down to. Over the whisper of the wind exhaling through the tree branches above me, the 201

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passing of tiny rodent feet seeking shelter and food as they scurried through the underbrush, I strained to hear anything that would suggest I wasn't alone. No further sign of the bear sow or her cub. Small reassurance. I knew they were near.

That scat they had left couldn't have been more than a couple of hours old. No telling how old the meat was they were eating. The light was too low to see any detail of the clumps of hair I had seen buried in the shit. But there had been fur, so that was a relief. I'm not sure I could have handled the suspicion that the bears had found a human body.

I checked my wristwatch. Ten-forty-three. Dawn was hours away. I had to find shelter, preferably off the ground.

Good luck with that. I was physically fit but climbing trees was not among my skill sets.

I slipped through the shadowy trunks, using the ambient moon and starlight, and occasionally my flashlight to search out one that had branches low enough to give me something to grip. After nearly half an hour I found one I thought I could manage. I stood underneath it, contemplated what I was about to do next. Pulling a handful of granola out of the bag in my pocket, I chewed, stalling. For what? Someone to deliver a miracle to me? God to show me a way to save Alex?

Get real, Zachary. No one's going to save you or your man
except you. So stop wasting time.

With a deep sigh I took one last look around, checking for the bear. Even if I couldn't see or hear one, I knew she was out there, probably on the prowl for food for her and her cub.

Rule number one in bear country: you don't want to mess with a mother bear and her cub. Ever. All mother animals will 202

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defend their young, bears have a particularly savage way of doing so. Rule number two in bear country: you don't want to mess with a bear and her dinner. Bears spend most of their awake time browsing for sugar-rich berries, tubers and other fat inducing foods. All designed with one thing in mind—build up bear body fat for the long hibernation in the upcoming winter. Cartoon movie makers got more than one person mauled or dead because they wanted photos of the cute bear taking their treats—and the bear tried to take a lot more.

Female bears have a special need; most of them are pregnant when they den up. The cubs are born while their mother sleeps. That takes a lot of body energy, and it all has to be taken in before they den up. When mama bear finally wakes up in spring, she's hungry and very cranky. Four hundred pounds of cranky bear is not something I want to meet anywhere. Rule number three? Leave before you have to invoke rule number one or two. Or climb a tree when leaving isn't an option.

I slung my binoculars around my back, nestled against my backpack and wiped my hands on the legs of my jeans. I was sweating, and it wasn't just from exertion.

I didn't climb far. Settling into the notch of the tree maybe four feet off the forest floor. I felt like a fool, but not enough to climb down.

Tomorrow, I had to forget all about the sow and her cub. I had to find Alex. I wasn't sure who I feared the most, the bear or the homicidal maniac who had already tried to kill us.

Granted the man was armed, and had already killed at least 203

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one man and shot Alex, but then I'd also seen proof what an enraged bear was capable of, too.

It was a pity I couldn't arrange for the homicidal killers to meet my bears...that was when my mind started spinning out crazy possibilities. As sleep evaded me, my mind went flying far afield. Maybe I was on to something. The guy who had shot Alex wanted me, too. I was a threat to him. If I gave myself up as bait could I draw him in to a confrontation with the bears? Was I willing to gamble that he wasn't versed in wilderness lore? Wasn't bush smart? Maybe that was just wishful thinking, and I was stereotyping, but drug-growing goons with automatic weapons and murder on their minds didn't strike me as being too savvy about local fauna.

The plan that started forming then required that I be right, because if I wasn't, Alex and I were both as good as dead. I couldn't stop shivering and it wasn't only from the cold. I knew no one would be coming up the mountain until day broke, no matter how dire the emergency. I did my best to get comfortable, wedging myself in as securely as possible to keep from tumbling the few feet to the forest floor. My face was pressed against the rough tree bark, which kept flaking off and falling down my shirtfront. My skin itched and I blinked furiously to clear the dust out of my tearing eyes.

The owl called again. She was hunting, I heard a sharp squeak that terminated abruptly, signaling a successful hunt.

It made me think of the man after me. I doubted he was doing anything under cover of darkness, but I had to be ready at first light to go on my way. And with luck, put my plan into 204

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effect. I'd have to move fast. Both of us were running out of time.

I huddled as best I could, curled up tight to conserve body heat. Even so I was soon shivering; clenching my jaw to keep my teeth from chattering. The need for rest, fought with the fear, that if I dozed off, I'd fall or do something to alert anyone or anything in the area that I was here.

Eyelids that weighed several tons now slid closed, and I tightened my grip on the tree branch. Pinesap stung the myriad scratches I wore from my travels. I pressed my eyes shut. Let me just rest for a few minutes. My shivering got worse.

My last conscious thought was: how bad must it be for Alex? Then even the rough feel of the tree limb under my cheek faded and I felt a welcomed peace fill me.

I blinked and snapped my eyes opened. I was no longer in the tree. I was lying on rough ground that smelled of loam and rotting vegetation and something else. Something familiar. Confusion reigned. Had I fallen? But the tree I had climbed earlier wasn't there. So where was I? Then I recognized the statuesque fir tree Alex had hidden himself under when he had ordered me to leave him. How had I gotten back here? This was where I wanted to go, but it should have taken me several more hours to reach it.

Eagerly I turned, looking for him, only to find the shelter formed by the tree boughs was empty. Had he crawled away?

Maybe he hadn't been as badly hurt as we thought. How ironic would it be if he had passed me on our journeys, me to come back to him, while he made his way to safety. But that 205

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didn't jibe with the way he had looked when I left him. If he'd been well enough to walk we would have gone together. No way I would have left him, orders or no.

I scrambled across the enclosed space. The ground was torn up. Raw earth now threw off the smell of sewage and compost. The earth under me squirmed with insects and worms. Clots of something dark and sticky covered the ravaged, heaving earth. Where was Alex? He'd lain here; I could still see the outline of his body in the disturbed dirt.

Worms crawled over my outstretched fingers. I cried out and shook them off. Then need and curiosity overcame my revulsion.

I got down on my hands and knees and crawled over the ground. I was quickly covered in a viscous red fluid. I was swimming in it. Blood. That had been the unfamiliar smell.

Where the fuck was Alex?

Panic suffused me. On hands and knees I tore through the nearby brush, ignoring the growing stench of blood and the swelling buzz of feasting insects. Alex! I wanted to scream his name, but when I opened my mouth, no sound emerged.