Painless (17 page)

Chapter 38

Chuck readied his shotgun as he barreled toward the scream. Billy tried to keep up with Chuck’s long strides, but found it a struggle just to avoid the branches snapping back into his face and he fell helplessly behind. He could see Chuck up in the distance, closing in on the danger—his shouts ripping through the forest. “Carolyn!”

Billy arrived at the campsite a distant second to Chuck, but just in time to hear Carolyn’s voice shout back, “Daddy!”

It was a happy voice. The voice of relief.

Chuck was looking at Beth with confusion. She sat on a lounge chair with the residue of laughter on her face.

“I heard her scream,” he said, out of breath. “What’s so funny?”

Beth pointed to a spot where Dana stood with Carolyn. “Carolyn fell with the sparkler. The brush caught on fire and she screamed. But the funny part was watching Dana put the fire out with her four-hundred-dollar shoes.”

Carolyn began running toward them with the sparkler in her non-sling arm, spraying light in the darkening sky. Dana followed gingerly, carrying her barbecued heels.

Carolyn noticed Billy removing his pouch with the “small game” her father shot. “Billy—you brought me stuffed animals!”

He looked to Chuck and Beth for help. He didn’t know what to do with that one.

Chuck winked back at him like he had a plan, and then swooped Carolyn into his arms. “So what did you girls talk about when we were gone?” he asked, allowing Billy to stash the dead animals.

Carolyn came fast out of the blocks, sprinting a tangent, “Mommy told Aunt Dana that she was flirting with Billy. Aunt Dana said she wasn’t, but then she smiled and Mommy said, ‘you haff a thing for him, don’t you?’”

Carolyn took a deep breath, and then continued, a mile a minute, “Aunt Dana said Billy was different from the others. And Mommy said she liked Billy and he has been great with Carolyn—that’s me—but he’s a mess. Then Aunt Dana said for Mommy to not worry her pretty little head because Aunt Dana and Billy are just friends. Then I got to play with the sparklers.”

Chuck laughed. “That might be a little too much information, princess.”

“Hey—don’t shoot the messenger.”

Dana headed toward the cabin, perhaps to put some aloe on her red face. “I need a drink.”

Billy headed toward the lake. “I think I’m going to clean up a little...since I’m such a mess.”

While hunting, Chuck said the plan was to cook up whatever they shot and serve it for dinner. Billy wasn’t looking forward to eating rabbit or pheasant. Or plucking the feathers, which Chuck told him would be his job. So he was pleasantly surprised that they grilled hamburgers and hot dogs instead.

After dinner, they sat in the lounge chairs next to a campfire that Chuck built. Their only entertainment was watching Carolyn run around, playing with her sparklers and trying to catch fireflies.

Dana recovered from her earlier embarrassment, helped by a few stiff drinks, and began photographing the night with her digital camera that had some techno, night-vision gadget she was quite proud of. As if one day, feeling in a sentimental mood, one of them would go, “Let’s look at the pictures of the time when we were hiding out in the woods acting all paranoid when some lunatic was trying to kidnap Carolyn!”

Drawn to the camera, Carolyn rejoined the group. She negotiated with Dana to allow her to use the camera, and when the princess got her way, she ordered, “Billy—get over by my family.”

He followed her command.

“You too, Aunt Dana,” she said, and Dana followed the instructions.

The four of them huddled around the fire in front of the woodsy backdrop. Carolyn stood about ten feet away, awkwardly placed the camera to her face, and exclaimed, “Say cheese!”

“Cheese!” they all said in unison and the flash lit up the night.

Carolyn then ran to show off her masterpiece, which probably captured more trees than people.

Chuck had first viewing. He broke into laughter, proudly telling the group that it was perfectly centered. “That’s my girl, eh.”

He handed it to Dana. At first she looked impressed. But then her face dropped.

Billy read her panicked look and pulled the camera away. He looked closely at the photo on the camera disk. On it, he saw the dark figure lurking in the background.

Chapter 39

Chuck picked up his shotgun and moved toward the heart-dropping sound of crunching leaves, the predator scampering back into the woods. Any hope that the sound was some sort of techno glitch had gone out the window.

Obeying Chuck’s instructions, everyone remained by the lounge chairs, nervously watching him move toward to the tree-lined edge of the woods. His gun was raised, ready to strike. Billy could tell he was straining to remain still, anxiously awaiting the “flapping of wings.” He was on offense now—in his comfort zone, ready to slam his opponent into the Plexiglas and drop the gloves.

The night was still, only the chirping crickets had the guts to say anything. It had the feel of the obligatory scene in the horror movie, right before something really bad was going to happen.

On cue, the sound of someone scurrying through the woods shattered the silence. Chuck turned sharply, ready to fire. But before he could, or anyone had a chance to warn him about the dark silhouette appearing behind him, the intruder had one arm wrapped around Chuck’s neck from behind, the other pointing a handgun at his temple.

Chuck didn’t get a chance to drop the gloves. His only prudent move was to drop the shotgun, which he did.

Chuck was walked back to the group at gunpoint. Defeat filled his eyes, as if thinking he’d let everyone down.

Billy’s eyes never left the young black man who was holding the gun. He wore the same tank top and jeans he wore the last time they crossed paths. He noticed the rose tattoo on his arm and the festering wound in his shoulder area where Chuck had shot him. Billy was no doctor, but the wound looked in dire need of attention.

Now only feet away, Billy got his first good look at his face. During their first meeting he was too busy punching him to notice. He appeared much younger than Billy expected. Maybe twenty at the oldest, but more likely around sixteen. His eyes were scared and his body language was childlike. He seemed nothing more than a scared kid.

He fidgeted with the gun as he spoke for the first time. “I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

Beth was like a cornered animal. She pulled Carolyn closer to her. “What do you want?!”

The intruder eyed each of them individually, until he came to the little girl. Beth took a step back, still clinging onto Carolyn, but there was nowhere to go. They could no longer run from their problems—their problem was standing a few feet away and eyeing Carolyn.

“I need to talk to Carolyn,” the intruder robotically stated.

“Over my dead body. You leave my baby alone!” Beth screeched.

But Carolyn began walking slowly toward the man as if she were in a trance. Billy’s alien theory was gaining steam.

“Carolyn, get back here!” Beth’s words echoed off the dark lake.

She took a step toward Carolyn, and the man brandished his firearm at her head. Beth would probably have brushed off the deadly threat and kept after her, but Carolyn turned and said, “It’s okay, Mommy, he’s nice.”

“Carolyn—get back here right now!” Beth attempted to order, but it sounded more like begging.

Carolyn didn’t listen, arriving at the man with her hand extended to shake. He didn’t respond, appearing mystified by the custom. Like he’d never seen it before—as if he was from another world.
Aliens?

Carolyn grabbed his hand and comfortably giggled. “It’s a handshake, silly.” She then added, “My name is Carolyn Whitcomb, but you can call me princess.”

The man smiled. It wasn’t the smile of an evil predator. It was the wide-eyed wonderment of someone who was seeing the world for the first time. “I know. I’ve been searching for you.”

Beth gasped at the words. Chuck took an aggressive step and got the gun pointed at him, forcing him to slam on the brakes.

“You are the man with the big boy motorcycle,” Carolyn observed.

He nodded his head.

“What’s your name?”

“My name is Calvin Rose,” he said and showed her the tattoo of the rose on his bare arm.

Carolyn looked excited. “Whoa—you did finger paints on your arm. Can I paint
my
arm?”

“Stay away from that monster, Carolyn!” Beth shouted.

“I told you, he’s not a monster—he’s a firefly.”

A very Poltergeist moment
, Billy thought. He expected the ghoulish little woman to appear and yell, “Run to the light, Carolyn! Run to the light!”

Calvin kneeled down beside Carolyn and began to poke and prod her.

“Get your hands off my daughter!” Beth yelled in desperation. Chuck grabbed Beth and took her into his arms. It was the wrong move to scare the already scared boy. Scared people do irrational things. Now was not the time to drop the gloves.

“You have the anesthesia too,” Calvin said to Carolyn, ignoring the others. It was just the two of them.

Her face scrunched. “I don’t think I haff amateesera.”

He pinched her arm tightly. She didn’t even flinch. “I can’t feel my boo-boos,” she said, now understanding, and stuck out her tongue for a visual aid.

He tapped the bullet wound in his shoulder, and assimilated to her language. “I can’t feel my boo-boos either.”

“Does that mean you can’t play hockey, too?”

He has CIPA also,
Billy thought, confirming his earlier theory.

A noise bristled through the woods and the silent night turned chaotic once again. It sounded like an animal, but Calvin Rose didn’t seem so sure. He was again on-point. His childlike gaze left and the cynical glare of a warrior appeared.

“Go by the others,” he instructed Carolyn.

Calvin then moved to the campfire and extinguished it with a bottle of water he found in Chuck’s cooler. Then he moved around the grounds in an inspection-type manner, only the sharp moonlight lighting his path. It was like he was expecting someone to arrive. He appeared as paranoid as the rest of them. And that was saying a lot.

Billy made eye contact with Chuck, to indicate that now was the time to make a run for it. Chuck subtly shook his head, silently replying that now wasn’t the right time to make their move. Billy trusted Chuck, and it was his daughter’s life on the line.

Calvin soon returned, his gun at ease by his side. “Our time is limited,” he said like they were all on the same team.

“Time is limited for what?” Billy asked.

“They will be here soon. We must protect your foal,” he said, pointing to Carolyn.

Beth was incensed, and had possibly crossed the line to insanity “What will protect her is you putting down that gun and getting the hell out of here!”

Calvin didn’t respond. He eyeballed everyone like he was taking attendance. He took on the calm aura of a leader. Billy recognized himself from his football days.

Calvin pointed at Beth. “You are Carolyn’s dam, correct?”

“I’m her mother, and you are going to be god
dam
sorry you ever messed with us!”

The language intrigued Billy.
Foal? Dam?
He was familiar with the horse terms. The Klein family owned thoroughbreds and their annual pilgrimage to the Kentucky Derby was more sacred to them than Christmas.
But what did it mean in this case?

Calvin pointed at Chuck. “You are the stallion who sired her, correct?”

More horse terms.

Chuck didn’t seem to know what to say, so he just nodded.

Calvin appeared to be putting together a puzzle in his head. Or maybe he was just mentally deranged. He looked at Billy. “What is your purpose?”

“I’m a friend.”

“Do friends have the anesthesia?”

“What? No.”

Calvin began mumbling to himself. “The outside is different. The only ones I know who don’t have the anesthesia are stallions, dams, doctors, and trainers. I don’t understand friend.”

“A friend is someone who will do anything to protect Carolyn,” Billy informed.

“Who is the other mare?” Calvin asked, pointing at Dana.

Dana trembled. Billy put his arm around her, attempting to comfort.

“I have a trust fund. You can have anything you want if you let Carolyn go,” she pleaded.

Calvin kept focus. “They are coming for Carolyn—probability is 85%—we must act quickly.”

“We will not help you! Stay away from my daughter!” Beth yelled.

“My mission is to protect her.”

“I told you, he’s a firefly,” Carolyn insisted.

Beth began to sob. “He’s not a firefly, Carolyn, he is just pretending to be one, and then he’s going to harm you.”