Slowing without conscious thought, Summer watched enviously as the couple crossed a small, decorative bridge that led to the lodge’s parking lot. Beyond them, a car pulled in, its headlights illuminating several of its already parked fellows, and picking up the bright madras plaid of the woman’s sundress. Her companion wore a pale blue sport coat and tie and held her hand. Clearly they were going in to dinner.
Summer ached to be in that woman’s shoes. Not for the sake of the man, or the dress, but for the dinner. Imagining the meal the woman would soon consume threatened to bring tears to her eyes.
All at once Summer realized that Frankenstein was completely out of sight. She increased her pace, and tried to keep her mind off food.
It was impossible. Her nose was mercilessly tantalized. Her gaze kept slipping sideways. The lodge was lit and so were several cabins to one side of it. Through the uncurtained windows, Summer could see the silhouettes of people inside the buildings. The couple she’d been watching reached the stone terrace. Another couple moved toward them, and they shook hands all around. Then they went inside – undoubtedly to have dinner.
By chasing after Frankenstein, she would be leaving behind what she was rapidly coming to think of as the last outpost of civilization. The tantalizing smell of grilling steaks beckoned her back.
Frankenstein didn’t care if she starved.
She could turn around, right that very minute, and become part of civilization again simply by joining the people at the lodge. Their company would be infinitely preferable to that of a grumpy murderer who had hardly deigned to glance at her for hours. A murderer who was on the run for his life – and whose very existence endangered hers. Without him, no one would ever have displayed the least inclination to kill her.
Which was the only reason he was letting her tag along with him. The knowledge was galling.
But even if she did opt for the lodge, Summer thought, she had no money for food or a room. Bruised and unkempt as she was, her appearance would attract attention. She could ask for help – but what help could, or would, those innocents give her? They would certainly call the police.
Summer shivered. She wasn’t quite sure whether she believed Frankenstein’s assertion that the police were the bad guys – but she wasn’t quite sure she didn’t, either.
One thing was certain: She didn’t want to find out the hard way.
Gritting her teeth against civilization’s devilish allure, Summer kept walking. Muffy whined. Trees whispered in the wind. Frogs croaked and crickets chirped. The cicadas hummed. A car horn honked in the distance. The smoke-borne smell of the steaks grew fainter. So did the hum of voices.
Good-bye, civilization! Summer’s stomach growled a sad farewell. Muffy seemed to droop in her arms.
She almost bumped into Frankenstein, who was waiting beneath a tree for her to catch up.
„If you can’t keep up, you’re on your own,“ he growled as she blinked at him in surprise, and turned and stalked away again. Scowling at his retreating back, Summer followed wearily.
Soon there was no trail. Instead he forged his own path through the undergrowth. In the gloom Summer stumbled over rocks and tree roots she couldn’t see. The pace he set was killing. As the lodge receded to nothing more than a fond memory, Summer grew increasingly afraid to let Frankenstein out of her sight.
It would be just her luck to lose him far from the succoring lodge.
„Slow down,“ she gasped at his back after a while.
He kept walking.
„I can’t keep going at this pace.“
He kept walking.
„I’m starving.“
He kept walking.
„Can’t we at least take a break? It’s the middle of the night.“
He kept walking.
„Asshole,“ Summer muttered under her breath, and kept walking too.
The wind moaned through the trees. A loud crack somewhere nearby was followed by a crash and a resounding thud.
Summer shot forward like a rabbit flushed by a hound and grabbed Frankenstein’s arm.
„What’s the matter with you now?“ He sounded grumpy as ever.
„What was that?“ She was too apprehensive to care.
„What?“
„That sound.“
„A falling branch. What did you think it was?“ His face was in shadow as he glanced down at her. Feeling foolish, Summer dropped his arm.
„I don’t know. A bear, maybe. A hungry bear, wanting Muffy and me for dinner.“
He grunted derisively, muttered something under his breath that sounded like „I should get so lucky,“ and started walking again.
Summer stared after him, affronted. He was almost out of sight when she hurried to catch up. She vowed that she’d let herself be eaten by a dozen bears before she spoke to him again.
In unfriendly silence they waded through streams, climbed over downed trees, and stomped through clearings. Summer tripped on fallen limbs and got snared by brambles, and kept walking. The night smelled of damp leaves, horse manure, and, more faindy, flowers. Delphiniums? one part of her mind wondered abstractedly. Or maybe lily of the valley? There was definitely a hint of honeysuckle.
Muffy’s weight dragged on her arms, making her back and shoulders ache. Several times she set the dog down and moved off, only to have to return for her when Muffy adamantly refused to budge.
„I ought to leave you,“ she muttered the third or fourth time this happened.
Securely cradled in warm arms once again, Muffy licked Summer’s chin.
What time was it? Summer wondered. Midnight? One or two a.m.? Was Frankenstein going to walk all blasted night?
She had to pee. She was afraid if she stopped for long enough to relieve herself, Frankenstein would disappear.
She was going to have to break down and call to him – but she wasn’t sure she had enough wind left.
With a yap Muffy leaped from her arms and took off through the trees.
It was so unexpected that Summer could only gape after her.
Up ahead, Frankenstein just kept walking.
„Hey!“ she called. Then, more loudly, „Yo, Frankenstein!“
He stopped, looked around. She beckoned wildly, though she wasn’t sure that, dark as it was, he could see. Apparently he could, or at least he got the gist of her urgent gesture. He retraced his steps.
„What now?“ He sounded positively poisonous.
„Muffy took off.“
„What?“
Summer repeated herself, pointing in the general direction in which Muffy had disappeared. He swore.
„We’ve got to get her back. Just like the car: they find her, they find us. They couldn’t possibly
not
identify her. She’s so ridiculous-looking, she’s got to be one of a kind.“
„She is not ridiculous-looking!“ Tired as she was, Summer managed a spurt of indignation on Muffy’s behalf.
„Just help me find the damned dog, okay?“
But Muffy was nowhere in sight.
They split up, beating through the trees on a vaguely parallel course, calling softly for Muffy.
Their only answer was the sudden hoot and rushing flight of an owl overhead. Apparendy they had disturbed its hunting. When it was no longer within sight or sound, Summer got up from the crouch into which she had dropped at the owl’s advent and started walking again. With every other step she glanced cautiously upward and all around. Who knew what other creatures might be lurking nearby?
Summer smelled it first – smoke. She slid across to Frankenstein, who had paused. He smelled it, too. Together they advanced through the woods in the direction of the aroma, cautiously. If it had attracted them, perhaps it had attracted Muffy.
Through the trees they saw the outline of half a dozen tents, silhouetted by a roaring fire. Three men and a flock of youngsters in uniforms sat around the campsite. One of the men was talking. Whatever he was saying had the children transfixed.
Boy Scouts on a camp-out, probably swapping ghost stories. Summer recognized the uniforms and smiled.
They were also roasting hot dogs and marshmallows on sticks over the fire.
As Summer realized that, her stomach gave a mighty growl.
„Hey, look! Something’s stealing our things!“
„It’s a coon!“
„It’s a possum!“
„It’s a bear!“
„Grab the crossbow!“
„Crossbow, hell! Grab the rifle!“
To a man, the Boy Scouts and their leaders leaped to their feet and dashed toward where Summer and Frankenstein watched them through the trees. Just ahead of the pack streaked a small, furry creature that looked for all the world like a diminutive Cousin Itt. A white plastic grocery bag bounced along the ground beside it. The handles were clutched in its mouth.
21
Frankenstein snatched up Muffy and the bag, and ran. Summer ran, too. With a tribe of whooping Boy Scouts in hot pursuit, they crashed through the forest in great leaping bounds. Foot snagged by a wayward vine, Summer went down. To her surprise, Frankenstein came back for her. Grabbing her hand, he hauled her to her feet and dragged her along after him.
Gradually the sounds of pursuit died away.
Summer developed a stitch in her side. Pulling her hand from Frankenstein’s, she slowed to a walk, pressing her hand to her side, and finally stopped altogether.
„I’m not taking another step.“ She spoke with finality. It was an effort to breathe.
„You’re not very athletic, are you?“ he said disapprovingly, turning to frown down at her.
„No, I’m not. If you’d wanted Jackie Joyner-Kersee, you should have kidnapped
her.
I’m sure she would have been delighted.“
„You know, you’re a real pain in the butt.“
„You’re not exactly a little ray of sunshine yourself, Mr. Macho Man,“ Summer snapped back, glaring up at him from her bent-over position.
To Summer’s surprise, he grinned. It was the first smile she had seen on his face in hours.
„Slumped over like that, you look kinda like the Hunchback of Notre Dame.“
„Then we make a fine pair of monsters, don’t we, Frankenstein?“
He laughed. Summer eyed him less than fondly. While she carried nothing, he was loaded down with gear. The gym bag was slung over his right shoulder, and the tire iron and grocery bag dangled from his right hand. Muffy was tucked under his left arm like a football. Muffy alone weighed a ton, Summer knew. And the blasted man wasn’t even breathing hard.
„All right, that was a pretty good run. You’ve earned a rest. Besides, your dog fetched supper.“
„Is it food?“ All thoughts of disliking him forgotten, Summer glanced longingly at the bag.
„Look for yourself.“ He passed it over.
Summer looked. The sack contained three unopened packages: hot dogs, buns, and marshmallows. A yellow plastic cigarette lighter, price sticker still affixed, slid along the seam at the bottom.
„It’s a feast,“ she said, awed.
Frankenstein took the sack back. „Come on, let’s go find a place to cook it.“
Summer groaned. „I’m telling you, I can’t walk any farther. Not another step.“
„Not far. Just till we find somewhere where we can light a fire without burning the forest down. Don’t quit on me now, Rosencrans. Maybe our luck’s turning.“
„McAfee,“ Summer corrected weakly, but he was already on the move again. Taking a deep breath, relieved to discover that she could, Summer grudgingly followed. Not so much Frankenstein, but the food.
After about a quarter of an hour they came to a wide, rippling stream that looked shiny black in the darkness. Summer was so tired that she would have walked right into it if Frankenstein hadn’t stopped at the edge. Instead she walked into him. Her nose bumped against his broad back.
„Over there,“ he said, pointing to the other side as, rubbing her nose, she stepped out beside him. „We can build a fire and spend the night.“
Thank God.
Across the water lay a rocky area strewn with boulders. It stretched for about forty feet to where a tall cliff crowned with pointy-topped pines cut across the skyline. Flinty pale against the night sky, the cliff looked as if it had been hewn from limestone. Crystals imbedded in the rocky sides gleamed dully in the moonlight.
Frankenstein waded into the water. Taking a deep breath, pressing her palm against her still bothersome side, Summer followed.
In contrast to the seventyish temperature of the air, the water was cold. Icy, as a matter of fact. It swirled about her ankles and her calves, and rose toward her knees. Ahead, Frankenstein splashed toward the opposite shore. Reassured, Summer saw that even in the middle of the stream the water barely passed his knees.
She would not drown. She would not even get the hem of her shorts wet. She took the opportunity to stop and scoop up sand from the pebble-strewn bottom to scrub her hands and face.
As she rinsed away the sand with more icy water she felt better.