Authors: Marion Faith Carol J.; Laird Lenora; Post Worth
Tags: #Fluffer Nutter, #dpgroup.org
SEVENTEEN
M
att looked at Lorie over their small fire. “You get some rest. I'll take the first watch.”
“I don't think I can sleep.”
“Try anyway. You, too, Margaret, Ben. This was a huge strain on your systems.”
“All right. I'll try.”
Margaret lay down beside Ben, and Lorie curled up next to her and closed her eyes.
Lorie wasn't aware she was asleep until she felt someone shaking her shoulder.
“Lorie.” Matt's voice, low and urgent, called her.
“Mmm.”
“I can't stay awake any longer. Can you man the fire?”
Lorie blinked and rubbed her eyes. Disorientation gave way to awareness. The wreck. The clearing. The fire. They were in the woods, waiting for a rescue that might never come.
Lorie sat up, taking care not to disturb Mom.
“Okay. I'm awake. Have a nice nap.”
“Thanks. I fed the fire just now.”
Lorie looked at the pile of firewood they'd collected. It was a lot smaller than she remembered. Matt must have used a lot of wood.
“Do you think it'll last the night?”
But Matt was already dozing.
Left alone with everyone asleep, Lorie looked up at the stars. The array of constellations told her she must have slept quite a while. They were so bright out here in the mountains, even brighter than at her house in Wolf Hollow. Too many people had those halogen security lights these days, even out in the country. It was never pitch-black dark the way she remembered from her childhood.
“When I consider the firmament, the work of Your hands, what is man, that Thou art mindful of him?”
The psalmist must have been sitting out on the hills on a night like this when he made that song. She wished she knew the tune that went with it. How wonderful would it be to be able to sing the words in its original Hebrew?
Off in the distance, Lorie heard a new import from Texas. A pack of coyotes yipped as the waning moon peeked over the horizon.
Lord, please keep the coyotes away from us.
Of all the ends she could imagine, being
eaten by coyotes was not high on her list of favorite ways to die. At least a bullet would be quick.
The fire was getting too low. Lorie added a stick.
The fire sputtered.
Oh, Lord, no. Please don't let it go out.
The flame licked at the new source of fuel. After a minute, it crackled merrily.
Lorie let out a breath of relief, and reminded herself that, aside from the mosquitoes, the smoke and all their injuries, this wasn't too bad. They could be a lot worse off. Well, maybe not a
lot
worse off, but worse off.
Lorie began to whistle softly, barely making any noise. She needed help to stay awake.
There's nothing like knowing you have to be awake to make you sleepy. Remind me not to do this again, Lord.
As if it had been her choice in the first place.
The moon rose higher in the sky, dimming the stars.
A noise in the woods brought Lorie to attention. She sat up straighter, glad she hadn't been staring into the fire.
She turned toward the mountain, rising to her feet, picking up the walking stick. It wouldn't make much of a weapon. Not if their pursuer had a gun.
Lord, help.
Lorie peered at the area of wood where the crashing noise had come from. It was so dark in the trees. The moonlight wasn't strong enough to penetrate the thick tangle of branches
.
Lorie's stomach clenched. It was out there, whatever “it” was. Was it her pursuer? The person who had threatened everything she held dear?
A head emerged out of the trees, followed by a body supported by four spindly legs.
A deer.
Lorie giggled. It really was funny. She'd been frightened half out of her wits by Bambi.
Her cry of laughter woke Matt, whose eyes flew open.
“Is everything all right?”
Lorie put a finger to her lips.
“It was a deer,” she whispered.
Matt sat up. “Pity it isn't hunting season. We could eat it.”
Eat Bambi?
Lorie tamped down her instinctive horror. For survival, she could probably eat just about anything, but... “I don't think I'm that hungry yet.”
“Iâ” Matt broke off.
“What is it?”
Matt held up his hand for silence.
Lorie froze, listening. Something else behind the deer alerted it, and the deer bounded off into the forest.
Someone was coming.
Matt drew his gun and aimed it at the trees.
In the darkness, a hoarse stage whisper echoed through the woods.
“Murdererrrrr.”
Fear stabbed Lorie through the heart. He was
here!
A flash of red blinded her for a moment. Matt shoved her to the ground as a rifle report echoed across the valley. Sighting on the flash and the laser, Matt fired off three rounds at the shooter.
The noise of someone grunting in pain reached their ears as Mom and Dad wakened.
“Whatâ?” Mom squeaked.
“Stay down!”
“Hey!” A new voice invaded the woods. “Someone's shooting!”
The laser light disappeared as the shooter crashed through the woods.
* * *
A bulky figure with a flashlight came through the trees. Apparently he saw Matt's gun,
for he froze in his tracks.
Matt spoke into the night.
“Stop right there! Don't come any closer.”
“Hey, I'm not your shooter! I saw a man with a rifle running away as I arrived. Are you the folks whose car went down the ravine? We've been looking for you.”
“And you are?”
“Lanier County Volunteer Fire Search and Rescue. We're the ones the 911 call went through to.”
“You got any ID?”
“Sure do.”
Margaret and Ben sat up, now that the danger was apparently past, but Matt noticed that Lorie seemed more wary, raising up on one elbow as if she wanted to be ready to flee if necessary. Smart girl.
The man came closer to the fire, holding out an ID card along with the flashlight.
“Sam McGee, Lanier County volunteer coordinator.”
“Matt MacGregor, Dainger County Sheriff's Department.”
Matt shook his hand, squelching the impulse to grab the man's flashlight and take off after the shooter. He couldn't take that risk. Unlikely as it was, McGee
could
be one of the people after Lorie. Leaving the Narramores alone with anyone was not an option, even if he
was
with Search and Rescue.
“We've got a truck right up the mountain. Who was shooting at you?”
“Wish we knew. We've got some injuries. One man with broken ribs, everyone else with scrapes and contusions. I suppose you didn't get a lead on the truck that ran us off the road.”
Sam shook his head. “Sorry. I'm just glad we found you. We were supposed to call off the search at dark, but I couldn't rest.” He looked at Ben. “I don't know how we're going to get him up the mountain in the shape he's in.”
“I was hoping for a helicopter.”
Sam chuckled. “Hope on. We don't have one.”
Matt shook his head. “Figured it was a long shot.”
Sam took the radio from his belt clip. “W5DOG this is KG5OSB. Found 'em.”
The radio crackled. “Roger that, KG5OSB. Woohoo! What do you need, over?”
“Stretcher down to Foster's Meadow, pronto, over.”
“Stretcher. Roger. Be there in fifteen.”
“And call the sheriff's department. Let them know there's a shooter.”
“Will do. W5DOG, over and out.”
“KG5OSB out.” Sam stuck the Handie-Talkie back on his belt.
Matt looked at Sam. “You armed?”
“Got a flare gun, but that won't be much help against a rifle if your guy comes back.”
Matt turned his face to the woods. Maybe the shooter was gone. But the way his skin crawled, he was pretty sure they were still being watched.
“We need to douse the fire.”
Sam raised his eyebrows.
Lorie said nothing, but started pulling the flames to pieces with a stick.
Dawn was beginning to peek over the horizon when a sky-blue-clad Lanier County Sheriff's Deputy led two paramedics into the clearing.
“Sorry about your welcome to Lanier County.” He introduced himself as Deputy Vincent, and the two paramedics, brothers John and Philip Arnaud.
Matt took a moment to check out the area where their shooter had stood. It didn't take long to spot traces of blood. Briefly, he filled Vincent in on what had happened.
“I was pretty sure I hit him, especially when he ran.”
“We'll check the hospital for GSWs. Maybe that'll solve your case.”
Matt felt a surge of hope. Could it be that simple? He hoped so. Someone with an unexplained gunshot wound turning up right before they did could be the very lead they needed to wrap up the case and protect Lorie once and for all. But he couldn't get ahead of himself. They had to get to the hospital first.
Ben turned out to be a terrible patient. He kept protesting he didn't need to hitch a ride on a stretcher and he could walk on his own.
Matt reminded him that the ribs were broken and he'd had a hard enough time getting to the meadow with them. He'd better behave and let the volunteers do their job, or Matt would be forced to run him in for resisting a rescue.
“Can't be having that, now, can we?” Margaret grinned.
“No, I guess not. I hate to put anybody to the bother.”
Lorie smiled at her dad. “Now you're starting to sound like Mom.”
“I should, after thirty-two years of marriage.”
“That long?” Matt asked. “When was your anniversary?”
“Actually, it's next week.”
The two burly rescuers hefted the stretcher holding Dad once they had him firmly strapped down.
“I feel like a sausage with all these straps.”
“You're my sausage,” Margaret said, leaning over and giving Ben a kiss before they started climbing the mountain.
Emergency vehicles waited on the side of the mountain. Flashing lights competed with the beauty of the dawn.
It took some time to get them checked out. Finally, they determined nobody else had any broken bones, although Margaret had a sprained arm that, of course, she hadn't mentioned, not wanting anyone to worry.
The EMT who had stayed with the vehicles wrapped an elastic bandage around her arm and put it into a sling.
“Now hold on tight, because we'll drive to the hospital right after the SAR unit, so you can be with your husband.”
“Okay.”
The ambulance took Margaret away.
Lorie and Matt remained with Deputy Vincent, answering questions.
“Can you describe the vehicle that ran you off the road?”
“It was an older-model black Dodge Ram pickup truck with California license plates. The number started with
A.
”
Lorie had
only seen part of it, but she described the black truck the best she could. “It had those giant, oversize tires. I'm pretty sure the truck left a streak of paint on the top left side of our car, so maybe you can match it.”
Matt nodded. “Good idea.”
Deputy Vincent radioed for a county-affiliated wrecking company to extricate the car from the bottom of Chastain Mountain. After a short exchange describing the difficulties the driver would face in retrieving the car, he switched off the radio.
“Come on. I'll give you a lift to town.”
* * *
For a brief second, Lorie froze at the sight of the deputy's car. The back door stood open, and she flashed back to that night in Coronado, her hands cuffed behind her, the police officer putting a hand on her head to keep her from giving herself a skull fracture.
Matt's voice murmured in her ear. “You're not under arrest now, Lorie. I'm right here with you.”
Lorie flashed him a look of gratitude. Taking the hand he held out to her made the car look much less frightening.
Oh, Lord, thank You for Matt's understanding.
A moment later, she was fastening her seat belt and trying to remain calm.
“Sorry y'all have to ride in the back like criminals.”
“Not a problem.” Matt spoke for both of them.
Lorie was grateful. She couldn't force a response out of her throat.
“The view's really different from back here,” Matt continued in a casual tone. “I'm used to being on the other side of the security wire.”
Deputy Vincent laughed. “I hope it doesn't smell too bad back there. The last occupant was more than a little drunk, but he managed not to toss his cookies until we stopped by the bushes at the station.”
Lorie grimaced as the word picture conjured up an image she'd rather have skipped. But then, she'd have skipped a lot of things lately if her life could have gone back to normal.
Lorie closed her eyes, trying not to imagine herself in handcuffs again. That had been so horrible. But not as horrible as knowing what she'd done to deserve it. She wondered why anyone would deliberately kill another human being. She hadn't had any choice, but if she could have taken it all back and let him kill her instead, she would have, especially when she was carried off to jail. It was horrible. It was a nightmare from which she couldn't wake up.
“Are you okay, Lorie?”
Not really. This is too much, bringing it all back where I can't get rid of it.
But she couldn't tell him that.
“I'll be fine.”
The usual platitude. The usual cop-out. Not really a lie, just a looking forward to the future rather than dwelling on what was happening. Coating the pain with another layer of self-defense.
This moment was not too good, either.
The car drive through the mountains in the backseat was nauseating. Despite the car smelling all right, the lack of fresh air made Lorie queasy. But she didn't ask the officer to turn up the air. She didn't want to ask for any favors from law enforcement. Even though she had no cause to feel like a prisoner, riding in the backseat of the patrol car brought back everything she had experienced, with the impenetrable wire mesh and safety glass
between her and freedom. It was so bad she wondered if she were still sleeping on the side of the mountain, having a horrible nightmare. Maybe she was. Maybe she'd wake up and still be in the meadow.