Ghost Light (46 page)

E
very one of Cindy’s senses was tingling with few and expectation as she crouched behind the trunk of a fallen pine tree and scanned the dirt road in both directions. The heavy gray overcast was steadily thickening. It would start to rain soon. Cindy had the curiously disorienting feeling that she had been running in the woods for hours if not days, but a glance at her wrist watch showed that it had only been a little less than an hour since she had first heard on the morning news that Alice had been found dead.

That’s impossible!
she thought, still unable to absorb the fact that death had struck so close to her… again. A wild shiver shook her as she looked down the road toward the camp.

Craning her head forward, she tried to see or hear any indication that Alex was coming after, but the forest was filled with a tense, hushed expectation. Finally, she sucked in a deep breath, coiled up the last shreds of strength, and stood up to run across the road and into the thick brush on the opposite side. When she was in the middle of the road, she paused for a second and looked both ways to see if there was anyone else around. The road was deserted, so she ducked into the roadside brush and, after catching her breath, started walking in a slow, unsteady gait toward the lake.

She cut through the thick underbrush for a few hundred feet, and then the woods began to thin out, opening up into the yard of one of the neighboring imps. After checking all around her again, she darted cross the clearing to side of the camp, flattening herself against the rough wooden shingles. From there, she made her way down to the water’s edge.

The lake’s gray surface was ruffled by a steady, icy rind from the north that made it look like a wide sheet f pebbled aluminum. Circling in the sky high above one of the small islands were several white birds that looked like seagulls. The distant, echoing cry of a loon wafted to her on the wind, rising and falling, sounding almost like the lonely, plaintive howl of a wolf.

Please, God, please let him not be there!

As she started along the shoreline heading back toward the camp, her heart was pounding heavily in her neck. She moved carefully along the water’s edge, walking in a crouched position and cradling her injured hand across her stomach.

At least this way, she told herself, she wouldn’t have to worry about looking all around her. The danger was, Alex found her down here, there was no place for her to run. She certainly couldn’t dive into the lake and swim away.

The going was easy along the small stretches of cleared beach front, but in between each camp’s property there was a thick stand of trees and brush, no doubt left uncut to ensure privacy, that made the going tough. A few times the brush was so dense that she had to walk out into the lake, balancing on slick rocks that stood up out of the water. Tiny waves lapped at her feet, soaking her sneakers and socks. She was just rounding a small spit of land when she saw something at made her jolt to a stop and squeal with surprise.

A huge, black, bloated shape had washed up halfway into the shore. It took her a moment to realize that it was a dead animal of some kind. The belly was rounded, swollen with trapped gases. Stringy tatters of rotting flesh waved like kelp in the lapping currents of water. The closer Cindy got, the stronger the nauseating stench became. She shuddered, thinking how bad it would be if that gas-inflated belly were to burst. The creature’s face—she had no idea what it was—had been stripped clean of flesh, exposing a snarling, grinning row of sharp teeth. Fat white things—slugs or maggots—wiggled inside the nostrils and empty eye sockets, making the beast’s features look almost animated. Cindy cringed away from the carcass, half expecting to see it suddenly lurch to its feet and snarl at her.

What the hell is this thing?
she wondered, knowing that she was either going to have to step over it or else go a long way around through thick underbrush to get past it.

The dead thing looked big enough to be a deer or moose, but Cindy, cringing inside, inched her way toward it and leaned down to inspect it. She realized that it was—or at least had once been—a dog of some kind. Its matted, patchy fur had the markings of German shepherd.

Stepping carefully from one stone to another, she skirted around the carcass, taking careful steps on the water-slick rocks.

Jesus, that could be me!
she thought. An icy shiver wracked her body, and her empty stomach gave a cold, twisting turn.

When she was standing beside the dead beast, balanced on a pointed rock, she glanced down along the shoreline and saw Harry’s uncle’s camp no more than a hundred feet away. Her racing heart skipped a beat when she saw that there was no indication of anyone there… at least not in the back yard.

“Please let the kids still be there,” she whispered softly, ducking low and hoping the brush would screen her.

She was focusing so intently on the camp that she forgot where she was for a moment. When she shifted her weight, her foot slipped on the wet stone, and she started to fall. Choking back a high screech, she twisted around, waving her arms frantically for balance as she tried to stop her fall. When her leg slipped into the ice cold water almost up to her knee, her foot got caught between two submerged stones. A numbing chill gripped her as her momentum carried her around and she pitched forward, falling into the water. Her knees and hands hit the rocky lake bottom hard, splashing water up into her face and soaking her. She was shivering and sobbing hoarsely as she lunged blindly for the shore. Instead of hitting solid ground, though, her hand slapped against the bloated carcass, and with a blubbering noise that sounded like a roaring fart, a cloud of noxious gas erupted through the punctured skin as it exploded outward.

In a frenzied flurry of activity, Cindy splashed and scrambled for the shore, coughing and gagging as the stench of decay choked her senses. She staggered a few feet away from the dead dog, then collapsed face-first into the small stretch of sandy beach. She was panting so heavily, each inhalation felt like it was tearing her throat to bloody shreds. After a few miserable moments, she moaned loudly and rolled over onto her back. Looking up at the heavy, gray sky, she forced herself to take a deep, steadying breath of fresh air, but the horrible smell still clung to the back of her throat like the rancid aftertaste of vomit. Her stomach tightened and convulsed as icy shivers jabbed her like thousands of tiny needles.

Help me, God… please… help me!

The thought was nothing but a feeble voice, whispering in the chaotic darkness inside her brain.

After lying there on the sand for another few seconds—seconds that felt like hours—she got up brushed the sand from herself as best she could, and forced herself to continue toward the camp, knowing that every second counted for Billy’s and Krissy’s safety. Her teeth were chattering wildly, and she knew that she was going to be seriously sick if she didn’t get warm soon, but she had already decided that if the kids and Alex were gone, she didn’t care if she died.

Christ, she couldn’t take much more!

If the kids were gone, she told herself she woul
d
simply lie down on the ground and
pray
to die!

4

A
lex was getting increasingly anxious as he crouched behind the same clump of brush he had hidden behind yesterday afternoon while he was waiting for Cindy to show up at the camp. The day was cold, the air damp. He could tell that it was going to rain soon; he could smell the heavy moisture in the autumn-tinged air. He had bet everything on one simple fact—that Cindy, no matter what else, wouldn’t be able to leave the area without trying to save the kids. If that was the case, then she would
have
to come back for them… or else die trying.

“And when she does, by Jesus,” Alex whispered, smiling as he squeezed the hand grip of his bow. “When she does, she’s gonna die!”

He was counting on it, but each passing second stretched out intolerably into seemingly eternal minutes as he waited to see if she was going to come back. If, instead, she had chosen out of fear or self-preservation to try to escape and find help—well then, maybe he was screwed, and he’d deal with it when and if that happened. But he was convinced that he knew how women thought, and he was confident that all he had to do was sit here quietly and wait. He smiled as he gripped the handle of his bow, thinking this was almost s if he really was stalking a deer.

And by Jesus, he’d get her yet!

Alex’s mouth tightened into a wide smile when, off o his left from down below the embankment toward he camp, he heard a faint rustle of activity. It could be deer or a dog or something. He listened as dried eaves crunched underfoot and a tree branch snapped as loud as a pop gun. He strained forward, trying to rear better, and was just about to break cover to go investigate when Cindy’s face appeared over the rise about twenty feet behind the parked van. Her hair was dripping, and the expression on her face was pinched as though she were in great pain.

Good for you, you fucking bitch! You’re just too fuckin’ predictable
, he thought.

He shook his head from side to side, almost laughing , out loud as he watched Cindy cautiously creep out from the brush and into the small clearing where the van was parked.

Alex watched, his body tensing, as Cindy, crouching low and looking all around her like a frightened animal, made her way slowly toward the back of the van. Shifting silently onto one knee, Alex took an arrow from the quiver and settled it on top of his fist. Drawing the bow string back to his ear, he took careful aim. Holding his breath, he made himself wait until she was standing beside the van, and then, just when she looked like she was about to make a run for it, he led her with the arrow and let it fly.

The shaft flew straight and true, but at the last foment, as though she sensed danger, Cindy halted in her tracks. Instead of hitting her, the arrow smashed into the rear taillight, shattering red plastic so it flew everywhere.

“Damn!” Alex shouted as Cindy squealed and spinning around on one foot, dove to the ground.

“Hey, it won’t do you any fucking good!” Ale shouted as he stood up and fixed another arrow on the bowstring. “You’re not getting very far this time. No fuckin’ way!”

He started down the slope, all the while keeping his arrow aimed squarely at Cindy as she scrambled to her feet and then stood there, panting heavily and staring at him with a panic-stricken expression. Her lower lip was pale and trembling, and a watery film filled her eyes. Her clothes hung in damp folds over her body. Alex was glad to see that she was still clinging to her injured wrist.

Maybe I did break it
, he thought.
Serves the bitch right!

“You’ve had all the chances you’re gonna get Cindy,” Alex said in a mild, almost pleasant voice. “Now there ain’t no one who’s gonna save you.”

In a flash, Cindy turned and started to run. She darted to the front of the van, obviously hoping to position herself so the van was between her and Alex, but Alex quickly side-stepped, all the while tracking her with his drawn arrow. She was in front of the van maybe twenty feet down the road when he let the arrow loose. He realized his aim was true when he heard a shrill scream and saw Cindy throw her hands into the air, then stagger a few more steps and fall. A wild scream of pain echoed from the trees as she rolled over onto her side and pulled frantically at the metal shaft that was sticking up out of her upper thigh. The razor sharp point had pierced her skin and was sticking out the back of her leg. Alex smiled when he saw the widening dark splotch of blood that was soaking through her pants leg.

“God
damn
it! I
told
you it wouldn’t do you any good to try ’n run,” he said, his voice tinged with a tone mock pity.

He couldn’t help but laugh as he looked at her, lying there on the ground, her face twisted in agony. Leaning his head back, he let his loud, ringing laughter fill the woods as he strode forward until he was standing a few feet in front of the van. Then, slowly and deliberately, took another arrow, his next to the last one, from the quiver and fitted it onto the bow string. The only sound Cindy was making was a high, terrified whimper as she thrust back with her unwounded leg, propelling herself backwards on the ground in one last attempt to get away.

Alex grunted as he advanced inexorably toward her with the arrow pulled back to his ear. Shaking his head sadly from side to side, he steadied his aim at her heaving chest.

“Well, Cindy, it’s been fun as hell, hasn’t it?” he said.
T
hen he let the arrow fly.

5

A
lex was so swept away by the dizzying realization at this was it—
I’m finally getting revenge on Cindy r everything she’s done to me!
—that for a split second he didn’t recognize the sound that suddenly roared in his ears. A senseless curse burst from his mouth when he turned around quickly and, in a shattering instant, recognized the sound and saw that he van was moving straight at him. In a single, blazing instant, before he could dodge out of the van’s path, the front bumper slammed into his legs, buckling him forward just below the knees. There was a loud snapping noise that sounded like a rifle shot, and the pain that leaped through his body felt like he’d been caught in a hail of bullets. He lost consciousness for a split second, and wasn’t even dimly aware when the impact knocked his aim off, and the arrow flew off harmlessly into the woods. When his mind cleared, he was already on the ground and there was an intolerable pressing weight on his legs. Immediately following the impact, the van lurched forward once, and then the engine died.