The Wildman (26 page)

So what was going on in there?

Was Ben gloating over the corpses of his supposed friends?

Was he rifling through their belongings, looking for something of value?

Or was he reloading so when he came after Jeff his pistol was fully loaded?

Come on, man! … Think … Think!

There had to
be
something
he could do … some way he could outsmart this guy and get the upper hand.

“
Hey! Jeff!”

The voice, coming so suddenly out of the surrounding darkness, startled Jeff and made him jump. The echo made Ben sound much closer than he was. Jeff peered into the darkness, straining to see if—somehow—Ben had sneaked up behind him.

“
I know you’re out there!” Ben’s voice echoed in the night. “You might as well give yourself up now! You’re not going to get away from me!”

Jeff could tell by the direction of his voice that Ben was on the side porch, hidden in darkness.

“
It won’t do you any good to run, you know! Come
on out. Let’s talk.”

There’s nothing to talk about,
Jeff was tempted to shout bac
k, but he wasn’t going to be tricked into giving himself away.

He wished he knew what had happened inside the dining hall. He shivered at the thought that both Mike and Tyler were already be dead—like Fred. But even if they weren’t, he wasn’t about to give Ben the upper hand.

But they must be dead.

Why else would Ben be calling for him and no one else?

Then again, if they had heard his warning, it was possible one or both of them had gotten out before Ben came in with pistol blazing.

He decided to hope they were alive until he knew differently.

But hope was all Jeff had left as he drew back into the forest and started moving slowly and quietly away so Ben wouldn’t hear him.

He wanted to go straight out to the infirmary, but he knew—especially if Mike and Tyler were dead—that’s where Ben would go, too. Maybe he should stay close to the dining hall. If Ben left, Jeff could go inside and find something to use to defend himself. At least a shot of rum would warm him up. He could grab one of the cooking utensils Ben had used for meals, or maybe a carving knife or something.

Anything.

“
Don’t worry,” Ben called out, his voice filling the night. “Mike and Tyler are fine. I swear to God they are.”

“
Like hell,” Jeff whispered.

“
Let’s sit down together and talk this thing out.”

Ben sounded so calm now, totally reasonable and rational, but Jeff caught an edge of desperation in his voice, too.

“
I mean—where are you gonna go, right?”

No answer.

“
Come on. Let’s talk.”

While Ben kept yelling, Jeff used the diversion to move deeper into the woods. He made his way around to the back of the building so he could see the side porch. Behind the dining hall, the lake was lost in a dense fog bank. Jeff was sure the clouds were breaking up overhead. Stray moonbeams shined through the breaks, casting harsh shadows across the ground.

Jeff clung to the deepest shadows under the trees, but he had the unnerving sensation that—somehow—Ben was like a cat or an owl, and could see in the dark.

With the luminous backdrop of the lake and fog behind him, Ben’s silhouette stood out sharply against the night. He was crouching slightly as he swept his pistol back and forth, and peered into the darkness.

If I only had a gun.

Jeff knew there was no way Ben could let him or any of them survive. Even if he hadn’t had anything to do with Fred’s drowning, he had taken three shots at Jeff as soon as he even hinted that he had found Evan.

“
Hey! You!” Ben shouted.

Jeff saw Ben turn toward the dining hall door and wave his pistol.

“
Get the fuck out here. See if you can talk some sense into him.”

The rusted spring on the screen door twanged as it opened and then slammed shut. Another figure came out onto the porch. Jeff knew by the bulk that it was Mike. He was leaning to one side as though hurt.

“
Go on,” Ben said, his voice mild but firm. “Tell him to come back so we can figure this out.”

For several seconds, the only sound was the heavy thud of Jeff’s pulse as he waited for Mike to say something. The only sound he made was a low, watery sigh that might have been real or might have been the night playing tricks on Jeff’s hearing.

“
Go on! … Tell him!”

Ben waved the pistol at Mike. Even so, he didn’t say anything. All he could manage was a soft whimper before he doubled over as if in pain.

Jeff was worried Mike was hurt so bad he was bleeding to death right there in front of him. Ben sure didn’t seem to give a damn.

“
So, you won’t cooperate?”

Jeff heard a high, wavering crackle in Ben’s voice as he leveled the pistol at Mike’s head.

“
Do you want to die? Is that it? You think you’re being a hero or something?”

Mike bowed his head and shook it from side to side. Jeff squeezed his fists in frustration, wishing there was something he could do to help, but if he revealed himself now, it would just mean he would end up dead, too.

“
Jeff …” Mike’s voice was tight with pain. “You … you gotta do what he says.”

“
You hear that, Jeff? I swear to Christ, I’ll kill him if you don’
t come out right
now!
I know you can hear me. I’ll give you a count of three.”

Fighting back the urge to come out of hiding, Jeff cringed even more in the shadows.

He felt like a coward. No amount of telling himself Ben had every intention of killing them all no matter what he said or did would convince him that he w
asn’t letting down his friends.

“
One!
”

Ben took a step closer to Mike, who cowered away from him. The gun was raised and aimed at his head. Sweat ran down Jeff’s face and into his eyes,
blurring his vision.

“
Two!
”

Mike cowered, collapsing onto his knees as though in prayer. Even at this distance, he could hear Mike snort as he broke down and cried.

“
Come on, man,” Mike said in a low, shattered voice. “He means it. He’s gonna do it.”

Jeff drew in a raw breath and opened his mouth to call out, but before he could make a sound, Ben shouted
, “
Three!
” An
instant later, a single shot rang out.

A bright white flash illuminated the underside of the porch for an instant, leaving a blue afterimage that streaked across Jeff’s vision. He watched, stunned, as the impact of the bullet slammed Mike’s body back against the wall. It made a loud thump when he dropped to the porch floor and lay still.

“
See what you made me do?” Ben called out. “I didn’t want to kill him, but you made me do it. I’m as serious as a fucking heart attack, Jeff, so …” He let out an exaggerated sigh. “All right, then. Have it your way. Stay where you are. Or you can run and hide if you want. Sooner or later, I’m gonna find you. I mean—where you gonna go, right? I’ll run your sorry ass down, and when I do … Oh, I promise it won’t be quick and easy like it was for old Mike here.” His cold, humorless laugh filled the night. “No-sir-ee … You’re gonna take a long time to die, Jef
f. A
long
time. Ju
st ask Evan.”

Stunned by what he had witnessed and wishing he could believe it hadn’t really happened, Jeff was trembling as he huddled in the damp darkness. Water falling from the trees pelted the ground around him. The throbbing rush of blood in his ears and his own frantic breathing were the only other sound
s.

This isn’t real … This can’t be happening,
he kept telling himself, but it was all too real.

Mike was definitely dead, as was Fred and probably Tyler.

That left him and Evan, who would no doubt die as soon as Ben got out to the infirmary to finish him off. Then it would be just him … unless he could come up with a plan to stop Ben.

With the afterimages of the muzzle flash still wavering across his vision, Jeff struggled to collect himself. He was already so cold and wet he was past miserable. What he had just witnessed had stripped away the last vestiges of civilization from him. He had been reduced to a savage—a wild man—and he would fight with as much or more savagery than Ben had just shown.

Gritting his teeth and telling himself to ignore the cold and damp and pain, he moved into the woods, melting into the wavering shadows cast by the moon.

All of his senses were opened up now, wider than they had ever been before. He inhaled the smell of wet, rotting mulch … the cold, antiseptic sting of the ozone-tinged air … the resinous pines and brush around him … and he felt the hot charge of blood surging through his veins. The raw, primal force of nature filled him with savage energy.

I
am
the wild man,
he thought, chuckling softly to himself as he moved away from the dining hall.
I am the lord of the forest … I am Hobomock, the demonic spirit of the wild … and nothing … nothing and no one can stop me!

* * *

All of Jeff’s senses were heightened as he made his way deeper into the woods. He barely felt the cold dampness of the night now. The clouds were tearing apart, driven by a cold north wind. All around him, the pine trees swayed back and forth with a loud clacking of branches that sounded like rattling bones.

Moving as silently as a shadow, he cautiously made his way toward the infirmary. Now more than ever he felt compelled to save Evan from this nightmare. If that meant he was going to have to kill Ben, then so be it … all the better, in fact.

The layout of the campgrounds was imprinted in Jeff’s memory from childhood, but he wasn’t sure he could trust it. So much had changed over thirty-five years. Trees had grown up and died; buildings had rotted and collapsed; familiar landmarks he had used while wandering around camp at night no longer applied. He was going to have to trust his primitive instincts.

But what about Ben?

Was he so confident in his superiority, especially because he had a weapon, that he would assume he had the upper hand and not think things through as carefully?

Would he rely on old habits, or would he realize the rules of the game had suddenly changed?

Jeff stayed away from the old, well-worn trails. Instead, he wended his way through the woods, moving as much by instinct as knowledge. The pine needles and fallen leaves were wet, so they didn’t make much noise underfoot. Crouching low, Jeff weaved between the trees, moving swiftly and silently. He was halfway to the infirmary when he caught a faint glow of light off to his left.

A flashlight?

He stopped short and stared into the swelling darkness. Every muscle in his body vibrated with tension. He was ready to respond either with fight or flight.

The beam of light grew steadily brighter, sweeping from side to side, lighting b
oth sides of the trail.

It
had
to be Be
n, following him and looking for any evidence Jeff had come this way.

Low mist clung to the ground, twisting in gauzy tendrils between the trees and shrubs. Jeff was confident Ben couldn’t see him where he was, but he had to get closer … close enough to get behind Ben and attack him.

As the light came closer, Jeff dropped into a crouch, counting on the brush and mist to hide him. After a few tense seconds, he saw Ben’s silhouette. He was wearing a dark raincoat and had his head lowered with the hood pulled over his face. He was breathing loudly, taking short, raw gasps.

Good,
Jeff thought, clenching his fists.
He’s winded … He’s already getting tired.

Jeff felt so charged with energy he knew he could easily outlast Ben through the night. It was down to just the two of them … plus Evan. But Evan was in no shape to fight. If he wasn’t much better than when he had left him, it was going to be an effort just getting him off the island.

Jeff told himself he’d worry about that later.

Right now, he intended to follow Ben and see what he was up to.

Jeff watched as Ben moved up the trail, heading for the infirmary. He was filled with rage and frustration because—other than brute force—he didn’t have any idea what he could do to stop him.

Once Ben was past him, Jeff followed along beside him, keeping to the woods and stepping carefully so he wouldn’t make any noise. He wished it was raining so the sound would mask whatever noise he made, but Ben didn’t seem to know how close he was and that he was watching him … tracking him.

The night air was bracing. With every breath, Jeff felt another amazing surge of energy fill him. All of his nerves and senses were much sharper than usual. Honed to a fine edge. He could hear and see and smell things he had never perceived before. The air was filled with the raw smell of rotting things as the year came to a close. The drops of water falling from the branches all around him glistened as though each of them had an internal light source. Gold and silver splattered around him in a dazzling display that was nearly psychedelic. The trees swayed in the wind, tossed by the wind that whistled through the branches and whispered to him. He believed he was so attuned to nature he couldn’t be harmed.