A Forest of Corpses (18 page)

No more shots came. That fact did nothing to calm my fear. He kept me in front of him, I knew damn well what he was doing. Shielding me with his own body. We reached the first of the trees, but it did nothing to lessen my terror. It only grew as I realized that the trees didn't only keep us hidden but could help conceal the shooter, allowing him to creep up on us.

Alex knew that, too. He became hyper alert, I swear he had eyes in the back of his head. He made the hairs on my body stand up.

It was almost like being in the same room as a tiger.

Comforting if he's on your side, not so much if he's not.

My calves were aching from moving in a crouch across uneven, unforgiving ground uphill. We kept to the heavier planted areas, and every few seconds Alex would push me down and do his jack-in-the box routine. So far, whoever was out there wasn't taking any more shots. Did that mean he had gone? Or was he circling around, trying to get a better shot at us?

I was clammy, and had to force myself to breath deeply and not hyperventilate. My chest ached from the effort, and I was light-headed. We moved up the hill with terrible slowness, expecting at any minute to hear that deadly crack.

And what? Do you feel a bullet enter you, or was it too quick?

Alex's hand on my back signaled me and I immediately dropped to my stomach. He moved, hand still holding me down, then the sound I had been dreading came again.

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Crack-snap of more shots. They whined past us. Alex grunted and jerked me back into a half crouch.

"Come on," he whispered. Before I could respond he was pushing me along in front of him.

Branches scratched and poked at every inch of exposed skin. I was bleeding and sweating in streams by the time we got to the top of the ravine. I risked a quick look back but I couldn't see anything. Alex didn't wait around to see, either.

He hustled me along, keeping off the trail, dragging us through the densest brush he could find.

Dead falls caught at our feet and it was all I could do to keep up with him. If he hadn't refused to let go of me I'm not sure I wouldn't have fallen down and stayed there.

I have no idea how long we ran, or crawled, depending on your definition. My lungs ached from trying to suck in enough air, I was being eaten alive by bugs attracted to my blood and sweat. I swear they were crawling all over my chest, even down into my pants and jock. I swiped at a persistent fly that wouldn't stop buzzing around my eyes.

We were both getting tired. I could feel Alex drooping in exhaustion, but he pushed on. Finally he shoved me into a heavy tangle of bushes and prickly plants, and leaned against the gnarled boll of an old fir tree. I sagged on the ground beside him, doing my best to catch my breath, knowing we couldn't stay long.

I looked over at Alex and didn't like what I saw. His normally fair, freckled face was almost paper white and his eyes were half closed. When I leaned over to touch his knee to ask him how he was, I saw it.

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Blood.

It stained his hip and even as I frantically pulled his shirt up I saw more seeping out. He'd been shot.

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I knew exactly when I'd been hit. The bullet burned into my side, tracing a path down and across my hip, slamming into the ground between Jason and I. No time to stop and look. I had to keep moving.

I bit my lips hard against the sudden rush of pain and nausea that came when I dragged Jason back up, pulling him toward the top of the ravine. We had to find someplace to hole up long enough for me to find out just how bad the wound was. Jason came along willingly. He had no idea I had been hit, and I planned to keep it that way as long as I could.

Once we stopped, I knew he'd find out. I'd deal with it then.

I was lucky. I wasn't losing a lot of blood. I suspected it just nicked my side. With further luck it hadn't hit anything vital or grazed my intestine, which would fuck me up big time. I know we had a rudimentary first aid kit—Jason had been adamant about that—but whether we'd have the time to use it was another thing. Even if we did, I doubted a band-aid and a painkiller was going to be much help.

Still, I refused to think about whether even trying to use it would be a waste of time.

The burning grew and I found my breath getting short. A wave of dizziness and pain passed through me. I knew we had to find a place to stop, and soon. If we didn't I was going to pass out. I'd kept us off the more traveled areas but now I looked for someplace even more concealing. I spotted it in a yard high clump of dense greenery. Something prickly dug 171

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into my skin as I pulled Jason in after me, ignoring his protests. Inside, I was able to lean against a thick tree under a drooping pine bough and let myself go limp. If I could rest for a few minutes, I could go on. We didn't dare stop; we were too close to the shooter, and the marijuana he was protecting.

Jason knew there was something wrong even before he spotted the blood. He tore open my shirt and was nearly weeping when he examined the wound from all angles.

"Just a flesh wound," I said.

"You think I fucking care? I need to take care of it." Before I could protest he was digging through his pack and pulling out the first aid kit. He cleaned the wound with antiseptic that stung like a bitch, followed by bandages and tape, which immediately were saturated with fresh blood. He applied pressure to try to stop the bleeding and a bolt of raw pain shot through me. I bit my tongue to keep from groaning. That might set him off in a panic.

"I'm okay, Jason." I tried to sound strong. "It's a flesh wound. The bullet isn't even in there. It was a through and through. It barely hit me."

"Oh, will you stop it? Will you for once drop the fucking tough guy act? We need to get out of here. Can you walk? We still have our walking sticks. I can support you—"

It was one of the hardest decisions I had ever made, but I had to do it. I met his gaze and took his chin in my hand. "I need you to go get help. I'll only slow you down. You can get down in a lot less time by yourself, if you hurry."

"No! No way I'm leaving you here."

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I'd known he would be stubborn. Good thing he was also obedient.

"Yes, you are. You have to, Jason. It's for the best for both of us. If you stay here, we're both in danger. I can hide in here. He'd have to be right on top of me to see me. But with two of us, we're more likely to be spotted. We both know you can move faster alone than dragging me around."

He opened his mouth to protest and I squeezed his chin tight enough to make him wince. "Obey me in this, boy. I insist."

"I...okay," he whispered.

"What did you say?"

"Yes, Sir." He went to pack up his backpack and got a worried look on his face. Then he broke the news to me, "I've lost the iPhone. I must have dropped it. I don't remember—"

"It's okay, Jason. You'll find your way back. I know you will. Now go."

"Alex—"

"Go. Now. No more talk. You're wasting your time. Just get out of here. Don't disobey me here, Jason. You know what happens when you disobey me."

He hung his head and whispered, "Yes, Sir."

But before he left he pulled off his backpack. Slipping off his canteen he set it down beside me. "You might need this."

"No," I whispered. "You'll need it..."

"I can find water along the way. In fact..." He cleaned out his backpack, then repacked it with nothing but some food bars. "I'm leaving everything. I can travel faster this way." He tried one more time. "Please, Alex. Don't do this."

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I took as deep a breath as I could to steady my voice.

"Obey me, Jason."

"Yes, Sir."

I watched him leave with an immeasurable sadness, knowing very well I wasn't likely to see him again. But he would be fine. I was sure of it. That knowledge alone would be enough to get me through what I had to do.

When I was sure he wasn't coming back I let my body lie back, falling to the soft, mulch-covered ground. I doubted anything I was lying on would be sterile, but I had my suspicions that none of that would matter soon. I had examined the wound as best I could while Jason cleaned it up, and before he bandaged it in a futile attempt to keep germs out. From the angle of entry and the path the bullet had taken through me, I strongly suspected my bowel had been perforated. It was only a matter of time before peritonitis set in. Time I had pretty well run out of.

I closed my eyes and willed myself to be calm. I had some time left. How much I didn't know. Enough for Jason to get down the mountain and bring back help? Assuming he got there in half the time it had taken us to get up here, we were still looking at two, maybe even three days before they could start back. No one was going to be searching these woods after dark. So, first light in three days they'd be on their way.

Then what, fifteen, sixteen hours to reach me? How sick would I be by then? Almost five days? I knew it wouldn't be good.

Half sitting up, I dragged my backpack over, enduring the excruciating pain the stretching action brought. Once beside 174

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me, I ripped it open and drew out the tent roll and the thin thermal blanket we had packed in case it got colder than anticipated. The tent roll went under my head, I wrapped the thermal blanket around my already shivering body. Too early for fever. Was I going into shock? Whatever it was, I was going to have to deal with it on my own.

Once I had settled in, I pried the top off the canteen and let some water dribble into my mouth, just enough to moisten it. Then I recapped it and dropped my head back on the mock pillow.

I just hoped some damn bear didn't come along and cause trouble.

* * * *

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I had forced myself to obey Alex when every cell in my body told me to stay with him. He needed me. I couldn't leave him alone in this place—

But he had ordered me to go. I had always obeyed him, ever since he had returned for me and I had surrendered myself to him. I didn't know how to fight him. I had never wanted to until this moment.

I stumbled from the hiding place he had chosen and by pure instinct headed west, toward the car lot where I knew I could find either rangers, or someone who could help me I kept a low profile, it helped that I was a lot shorter and lighter than Alex, and as long as I stayed in the heavier brush I doubt too many people would see me. The shirt I had worn was mostly browns and blue grays, the colors should blend in to the surrounding bush. I had another advantage, I had some bush savvy. Maybe more than the pot farmers had. I could hope.

I moved a lot faster on my own. I never would have admitted it to Alex, but he had slowed us down considerably.

Now, with the memory of Alex, lying on the ground with blood seeping out of him, spurred me on. I made double time. I didn't bother finding more walking sticks. I could move quicker and more silently without them. Going down slope I could use tree branches and trunks to slow my headlong rush and keep myself from falling and bashing my head in. I was a lot less worried about my safety. It no longer mattered. Not 176

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as long as Alex was behind me, injured. I refused to think that he might be dying. I clung to the idea that all I had to do was bring help back and he'd be okay.

Still, I was getting nowhere fast. I trudged on, daylight waned around me and even when shadows cloaked everything around me, I kept walking. I walked through darkness into the next day, using my innate sense of direction to keep me on the right path. With images of Alex bleeding haunting me, I began to despair. So, several hours after dawn, when I first heard the sounds I didn't know whether to give in to my fear or find out who was coming and deal with them. Regretting my impetuous decision to leave the walking sticks I crouched down as something tore through the brush upslope from me, moving faster than I was and making a lot more noise. It sounded big. Man-size or bigger.

Jesus could it be the bear Alex had always been afraid of? The more I listened the more I heard the snuffle-snort of an animal, not the softer breathing of a man.

My hand closed over a piece of fallen log that was as long as my arm and twice as thick. It felt reassuringly hefty in my hands as I made ready to surprise my visitor.

It broke through the bushes and crashed noisily toward me. I raised the branch, steadied myself and promised I'd get one good shot in for Alex. The breathing grew hoarser and I swear I heard whimpering. Christ, had they shot someone else?

I jumped out, staying low, hopefully out of the range of a shot if he got off a quick one. My foot caught on a twisted 177

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root and I tumbled to the ground, still clutching my makeshift weapon.

It whimpered again, then a snuffling whine accompanied a warm, moist nose stuck in my face. I looked up and blinked and found myself staring down the long, black muzzle of a German Shepherd.

The dog from the car lot.

I scrambled to my knees. The dog sat and whined again.

Alex had never told me the identity of the dead body he had found. I remembered we had heard a dog—this dog?—

barking last night and this morning. Had it been out there looking for its dead master? If that was the case, where were the two women who had been with him? Oh, God, had Alex found all of them? Was that why he had hurried to get me out of there? Had the person who shot Alex also shot and killed those three hikers? But he had said "another body." That implied only one. Which one?