Voracious (9 page)

“Well, it wasn’t in there.”

Damn. So it just got up again? “Did you look in the vaulted toilet?”

He raised his eyebrows. “The toilet?”

She cast her eyes down, trying to block out the memory of what she’d seen in the rafters. “It was horrible.”

“Another victim?”

“
Another
victim?” She looked at him sternly, wondered why he knew so much. “I think it’s about time you told me what that thing is.”

“I can’t now. It’ll have to wait. We’ve got to get you to safety.”

“But what about the ranger’s body in the bathroom?”

“A ranger? Oh, man. That’s bad. Did he have a two-way radio on him?”

Madeline stared at him aghast. “Well, I didn’t happen to notice.” Her voice began to rise, quavering as she grew more upset at the thought of what she’d seen. “I mean, when you see a dead body hanging from the rafters with this …
thing
… eating it, you don’t really think of looking for a goddamn two-way radio.” She was shaking. Forced herself to calm down. After a moment, she added, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. I understand. It
is
terrible.” Noah’s eyes were wide and sympathetic. “Believe me, I know what it feels like to stumble upon a scene like that. That’s why I’ve got to catch him.” After a pause he added, “I’m going to go check the body for a radio.”

“Noah, no!” She grabbed his arm as he started to get up.

“We could use it to radio for help, get you off the mountain.”

Fear gripped Madeline. “But it could still be in there!”

“He’s probably gone by now. I have to take the chance.”

“No, you don’t! That’s ridiculous! Let’s just get the hell away.”

Noah remained squatting where he was, and Madeline let go of his arm. He glanced around. “Which trail is the one that leads down to Many Glacier Campground?”

“I was already heading that way. Too bad there’s not a closer one.” She was so tired. She slid the pack off her back.

“Well,” he said grimly after a moment, “that is the closest ranger station. “The trail’s a little long, but at least it’s not steep. There’s very little elevation gain. I took this route hiking up here. The way down should be a breeze.”

“So it’s all downhill from here?”

Noah smiled and looked up at her. “Yep.”

She watched Noah as he adjusted the laces on his hiking boots. She wanted to ask him again what was going on, what that thing was, why it seemed to be hunting them. But she was just so tired—her eyes burning from lack of sleep, her back aching, her head pounding—that she didn’t think she could thoroughly digest it all, even if he did tell her. She just wanted to lie down in a nice, comfortable bed and sleep for a long time. “Let’s go,” she said finally.

After repacking the map, tent, and clothes, Noah slung the pack over his shoulders, then buckled it in place.

They stood up, glanced around cautiously, and started down the mountain, the heat of the afternoon still building, humidity closing in around them, stifling and unbearable.

Halfway down the mountain, they stopped in a meadow to rest and eat and found a cluster of boulders to sit on. Catching their breath, they passed the water bottle back and forth.

“Sorry I lost all my stuff,” she said, feeling bad for drinking so much of his water.

“Don’t be sorry for a second. If you hadn’t dumped your pack, you’d probably be dead right now.” He took a long drink from the water bottle and surveyed the scene around them. They were hiking down through thick forest, where mosquitoes clustered, buzzing in her ears and biting through her clothes. She’d never experienced a summer so filled with mosquitoes. The muggy heat was perfect bloodsucker weather, and they repeatedly landed in her eyes and even occasionally came close to buzzing up her nose. They filled the hot air with incessant, whiny buzzing. Sweat poured down Madeline’s face and back, and occasionally mosquitoes stuck in the droplets of perspiration.

“You doing okay?” Noah asked, studying her face.

Madeline nodded.

“Is your head giving you any trouble?”

In truth the cut stung painfully, especially with the salty sweat seeping into the bandage, but there was nothing that could be done there in the backcountry that wasn’t already done. “It’s okay,” she lied.

“Let me see your eyes.” He scooted closer to her on the rock, placing a hand under her chin and lifting her face up so he could get a better look. He leaned in, peering intently into her eyes. “No dilation,” he said. “That’s a relief.”

Suddenly Madeline was aware of how close he was. His eyes were a bright green, and his breath smelled cinnamony and nice, his lips perfectly shaped.

“Everything okay?” he asked, making her realize how much she’d been staring.

“Yes,” she said, pulling away. “Glad there’s no concussion.”

“Any dizziness or blurred vision?”

She shook her head.

“Nausea?”

“No.”

“Good. Think you can make it down the rest of the way?”

“Yeah.”

He put the water bottle into a net pouch on the backpack and produced two granola bars. He handed one to her and stood up. “We’d better go. We definitely want to get down before it gets dark.”

Suddenly Madeline felt exposed, standing up from her cover among the rocks. “Does it get more … aggressive at night?” she asked, glancing around nervously.

Noah shook his head, and for a moment Madeline was relieved. Then he said, “It’s aggressive all the time.”

“Let’s go,” she said quickly and beat Noah to the trail.

Just before dusk, as they passed their last switchback and looked down a steep hill, Noah and Madeline saw the dusk-to-dawn lights burning at the Swiftcurrent Lodge and camp store. Beyond it lay the paved roads of Many Glacier.

Madeline breathed a sigh of relief. “We made it.” She was absolutely exhausted and so thirsty her tongue felt swollen.

“Now we can get that cut looked at,” Noah said.

Madeline felt the bandage. It was still affixed securely, and she was impressed by Noah’s field dressing ability. She smiled at him as they continued down the trail.

They passed the Swiftcurrent Motor Inn, continuing down the road past the entrance to the campground. Soon they reached the ranger’s station, a small log cabin set among the trees. All the lights were off.

Madeline walked up to the door, her head aching. She rapped her knuckles on the wood and waited. No one came to the door.

Noah walked up beside her, and she was aware of his closeness as he knocked even louder on the door. They stood together in expectant silence. “I don’t think anyone’s here this late,” he said finally.

She brought her hand up to her head again. It was really starting to throb. “What should we do?”

Noah glanced around the darkened campground. “My Jeep’s parked in a lot here. I say we drive down to Apgar. It’s more populated than here, and I’ll bet we could find some help there.” He looked at her, concerned. “What do you say?”

Madeline was so tired that sitting down in a car sounded like a vacation to the Bahamas. Besides, if the ranger had left this area for the night, even if they called for help from the motor inn, they’d still have to wait for the ranger to drive up to Many Glacier. “Sounds great.”

“Okay, then. It’s this way.”

He left the porch of the ranger station with Madeline following close behind. They walked down the narrow, paved road until they reached another parking lot. A blue Jeep stood among a half dozen other cars, and Noah walked to it.

He unlocked the passenger door and held it open for Madeline, who was touched by the gentlemanly gesture. She climbed in, and he closed the door after her. He entered and started the engine.

Apgar, she knew, lay on the shores of Lake McDonald on the other side of the park, near the west entrance. It would take at least an hour to get there because the road took so many twists. Ranchers owned land bordering on the park, and to get to Apgar, Noah and she had to temporarily exit the park and reenter it farther down the road. She hoped someone was awake on the other end to help.

They drove down Many Glacier Road out of the park, and soon cow eyes gleamed green in their headlights, huge lumbering animals on the side of the road munching grass.

They passed through the small town of Babb at the intersection of Many Glacier Road and the Chief Mountain Highway, which they had to take to get back to the park. The local bar at the intersection was going strong, with beer signs glowing in the windows and live music emanating cheerfully.

He turned right on the Chief Mountain Highway, and they drove through more darkened ranch land. Finally they reached the eastern entrance of the Going-to-the-Sun Road, a precipitous route that climbed up along the peaks through the heart of the park. They reentered Glacier, the entrance kiosk at St. Mary locked up for the night. The visitor center at St. Mary was also dark and empty, so they drove on toward Apgar. Stunning drop-offs emerged on the left as they progressed.

Their progress was slow and winding. At night, Mount Reynolds and the peaks around it stood dark and foreboding, and glaciers clinging to the sides gleamed white in the bright moonlight. At the highest point, they passed the Logan Pass Visitor Center and the trailhead to her favorite trail in the park, the Highline Trail, a narrow path that wound through rock slides, snowfields, and mountain goat-populated forests.

Eventually they began to descend. Aspen forests replaced the stunted silhouettes of kruppelholz, small, twisted pine trees that grew in higher altitudes. Despite the gorgeous scenery, Madeline nodded off repeatedly. She jolted awake just as they passed the Loop, the trailhead where her VW Rabbit was parked. She thought of asking Noah to turn back so she could get her car, but her eyes were so heavy she didn’t think it was safe to drive. A few seconds later, she fell asleep entirely.

She awoke when the Jeep came to a stop. Groggily, she opened her eyes, yawned, and peered out. Her head throbbed. Before her lay Lake McDonald, its vast length fading into the distance, its rippling water sparkling in the moonlight.

Noah parked in front of the ranger station, and they got out. Apgar was more active than Many Glacier had been. Lights gleamed from cabin windows at Apgar Village, a collection of cabins for park visitors, and several people milled around by the scenic lake.

They approached the ranger station. Like at Many Glacier, all the lights were off. Just a little way away stood a cabin with its porch light on. Through a window they could see the silhouette of a person sitting at a table and eating. A sign out front read Staff Residence.

“Let’s knock,” Noah said. “They’ll know where to get help for your head.” He moved forward, but she stayed where she was. “What is it?” he asked when he realized she wasn’t moving.

“We also have to tell them about the backcountry ranger,” she said solemnly.

Noah stopped then, walked back toward her slowly, and looked at her intently. “I really wish you wouldn’t.”

“What? But his body is back there, and—”

“They won’t know what they’re dealing with,” he said, hooking his thumb in the direction of the backcountry ranger’s station far away in the mountains.

“We still have to tell them!”

“And how would you explain to them what attacked the ranger?”

“As best I could. I’d tell them what I saw. I’d tell them where they can find the body.”

Noah shook his head. “Even if they did track him down, he can’t be imprisoned. Believe me, I’ve seen people try. Place after place. It never works. They’d have to kill him, and they couldn’t. Even if they tried. They’d die taking him into custody.”

Madeline tried to keep her voice down, though she could feel it rising as she grew more frustrated, trying to understand Noah’s point of view. “If he’s aggressive when they try to bring him in, they
may
shoot him.”

Noah looked up, exasperated. “It won’t kill him. And then he’ll escape.”

“From a prison cell?”

“From anywhere.” Noah’s eyes were grim. “Madeline,” he took her hand gently, “I’ve seen this before. I’ve seen it all. You must believe me.”

“Look, Noah,” she said, feeling overwhelmed. “I don’t even really know you. I appreciate you helping me back there, but I firmly believe a person should report a murder.”

“But don’t you see they’ll just get in the way?” he asked exasperatedly.

“Get in the way of whom?”

Noah looked down and remained silent.

“I can’t just ignore what I saw, what I’ve been through. If these rangers can do anything to stop this thing, then I’ve got to tell them.”

Noah put his face in his hand and sighed. He looked weary. “Okay,” he said at last, looking up. “But you’ll be endangering their lives. I’m going to leave you here then. It’s likely they’ll want to ask you a ton of questions, so I’m going to find you somewhere to stay nearby. I’ll be back soon.”

A ton of questions.
Madeline hoped none of them recognized her name. She just wanted to report the murder and be done with it. Montana newspapers had carried a few accounts of her psychic endeavors. If they found out she was “gifted,” they might be all over her, asking her to return to the murder scene and see if she could pick up anything—like off the rafters in the outhouse.
I can’t go through that. I won’t. I’ll just report the murder, and if they ask me to use my “ability,” I’ll just tell them it doesn’t work that way.

She was a bit taken aback and hurt that after all, Noah was just abandoning her on the doorstep of this ranger’s house. But he had already done so much for her, she was grateful for that. “Thanks,” she said feebly.

“My pleasure,” he answered, but she could hear the tension in his voice. He rang the bell on the cabin and then disappeared into the darkness.

She stood there for a few moments before the door opened.

A kind-looking man in his thirties appeared, holding a fork and napkin, looking at her quizzically. He wore a National Park Service uniform. She felt tiny out there on the porch, Noah now gone, and the dark expanse of the park at her back.

“I—I want to report a murder,” she heard herself say.