by Linda Ladd
Within seconds, half a dozen more dogs crashed through the undergrowth, snouts to the ground or high in the air sniffing out her scent. Their howls echoed eerily up through the trees as they zigzagged between saplings and tree trunks, unimpeded in their purpose as they jumped logs and crashed through tangled thickets. Not trained bloodhounds but a pack of wild dogs, unchecked by human handlers, running in a snarling, bloodthirsty pack.
Heart pounding, Kate grabbed Joey and took off. She'd seen deer carcasses ravaged by starving dogs, torn to shreds, devoured to hair and bone. These vicious animals bore no resemblance to tamed household pets but were scavenging beasts. The yelps of the pack filled her ears as she ran, shrill with bloodlust and the instinct to kill. Oh, God, what would they do if they got hold of a defenseless baby like Joey? She had to get up high, climb a cliff or a tree, get Joey off the ground where they couldn't get at him.
In the grip of full-fledged hysteria, she flew down the other side of the ridge, her eyes locked on the towering granite cliff rising before her. She had to get there, climb far enough off the ground to evade the excited dogs. She looked behind her and saw the leader of the pack about twenty yards behind her, a huge black and tan hound, roving back and forth across her trail, baying with the heat of the chase. A German shepherd was abreast of him, running hard, straight at her. Kate sprinted blindly, branches whipping her face and arms, Joey's frightened screams in her ears, her only hope reaching the bluffs before the dogs knocked her down.
Heaving in great clumps of air, she finally burst through the dense mulberry bushes that hid the granite face of the cliff, sobbing when she saw the sheer wall rising above her. No footholds, no rocks shelves, nothing to climb. Kate whirled around to fend off the attack but not quickly enough. The big shepherd leapt at her on the full run.
The hundred-pound dog slammed against her side, sending Kate sprawling. She twisted her body and protected Joey as the shepherd snarled with bared teeth, saliva dripping from his jaws. The hound went for her leg, and she screamed in pain as its sharp incisors sank into her ankle. Forgetting her burned palm, she jerked out the knife and slashed wildly at the growling animals. The hound yelped in pain and slunk off to the side, and Kate sobbed as three more of the pack formed a ring around her, snarling, feral, fangs bared, fur ridged high on their backs. Panting, terrified, holding Joey tightly with her left arm, she pressed away from them, screaming and brandishing the knife if one of them darted in at her.
“Get, get outta here,” she yelled, letting go of the sling long enough to grab a heavy rock. She hurled it at the shepherd, glancing it off his snout. He retreated but another one took his place. Kate's fingers clutched the knife as tightly as she could, and she yelled at them again, knowing it was only a matter of time before several attacked at once.
A huge black mongrel inched around to one side of her position, his strange yellow eyes never leaving her. When he leapt, she swiped him with the blade but not before he got his jaws around her tennis shoe. She kicked as hard as she could, frantically stabbing at him, sobbing, slashing with all her strength, then almost as quickly as the attack had begun, it ended. Inexplicably the snarling, keening animals fell back.
Her lungs laboring for breath, Kate pushed herself deeper into a shallow aperture cut into the rocks. Her sock and shoe were bloody where the shepherd had sunk his teeth, but she ignored the pain and kept her knife ready. She knew it wasn't over yet; they'd come in for the kill.
“Hey, down there, you just about got yourself eat up, didn't you?"
Kate jerked bodily at the sound of the voice. Twisting her neck from side to side, she picked out a figure high atop the cliff and stared in disbelief at a little girl, maybe nine or ten years old. The child placed a couple of fingers to her mouth and sent an ear-piercing whistle out through the woods. The killer dogs came bounding up around Kate, tails wagging, menacing stances gone.
“They must've thought you was a coon,” the girl called down to Kate. “Stay put, okay? I'll be down in a jiffy."
Drawing in great gulps of air, Kate tried to calm Joey's hysterical shrieks and keep a wary eye on the animals circling around and swinging their tails as if she was suddenly their best friend in the world. She couldn't quite believe her eyes when the little girl came striding along the base of the cliff, friendly as could be, smiling widely with the most beautiful white teeth Kate had ever seen. She had dark red hair, braided neatly into long pigtails secured with yellow ribbons to match her T-shirt. She wore blue-jean shorts and what looked like brand-new white Adidas tennis shoes.
“I bet you was scared of them dogs till I called them off, weren't you?"
“Yeah. Real scared.” Kate cupped her forehead with her left hand, striving to regain control of her nerves. She wasn't having a whole lot of luck.
“They do look a mite fierce, I reckon. But they ain't bad when you get to know ‘em some."
“Yes, they sure do.” Kate eyed the seemingly docile dogs, then bent to examine the bite on her ankle.
“Uh oh, did Leech get you in the foot? He don't mean no harm but he's a big old thing. That bite deep?"
“It's bleeding but I guess it's not too deep.” Kate was having trouble controlling her voice. She kept looking at the dogs, expecting them to metamorphose again into the murderous beasts of moments ago.
“My name's Millie Mae Jones. Who're you?"
Kate looked at the girl, disbelieving they were calmly having this discussion. The hounds had plopped down on their sides to rest now, their tongues lolling out the sides of their mouths. Tired from the hunt.
“Kate. Kate Reed."
“What're you doing way out here in the deep woods? You get lost, or something like that?"
Kate debated whether she should tell the child the truth, that she was being chased by men trying to kill her. She decided Millie Mae Jones wouldn't believe her anyway.
“Oh, look, you got a baby in that thing on your chest. It's so little, ain't it? Can I see it, Miss Kate? I love little babies more'un just about anything but my hound dogs."
Kate struggled up to her feet, keeping a firm grip on Joey. “I don't know. He's still pretty scared of the dogs."
“Oh, they ain't gonna hurt him. Don't you worry, Miss Kate, they're trained real well. The truth is they're my brothers’ dogs, you know, for hunting and keeping people outta our cornfields. But I always take'um out on a run in the woods on days I don't have to go to school.” She smiled her wide, movie-starlet grin, her teeth dazzling against her tanned, freckled skin.
“You live on a farm?"
“Yes'm, just up there, over that ridge.” She pointed. “That next one, you can see it if you look real hard."
Kate nodded but her heart sped as she searched the little girl's face. “Do any of your brothers have a car that could take me into Van Buren, Millie Mae? I've got to get there as soon as possible.” She hesitated. “There are some men after me, Millie Mae. Bad men. They shot my husband, I saw them. I've got to get to the sheriff's office before they find me."
“My brother Matty's got a big truck.” Millie Mae's big blue eyes got even rounder. “Gee, some men shot your husband? That sounds like something straight off America's Most Wanted, don't it? That's me and my brothers’ favorite TV show, that and Cops. They both come on together, every Saturday night. You seen them?"
That's a good sign. Maybe they're a law-abiding family, Kate decided, as she took Joey out of the sling and turned him around until his back was against her chest. Her foot was throbbing now, but the baby stopped whimpering and peered curiously at Millie Mae, who got up close in his face, smiling and talking baby talk.
“Why, look at you, you're just as little as a mite, ain't you? And pretty as you can be. Is it a boy or a girl, Miss Kate?"
“A boy. His name's Joey."
Millie Mae reached out and held Joey's hand, then grinned hugely when he clutched her thumb. “He likes me already, don't he? You just come along home with me, Miss Kate. My brothers are great big and strong. T
hey won't let those bad men get you and little Joey, I promise. You'll come, won't you? It's not far, and I got some good salve I can put on where Leech got you on the foot."
Kate figured she didn't have much choice. After the wild flight from the dogs, she was dead on her feet. If the people after her were anywhere in the vicinity, they would have heard all the screaming and barking. If Millie Mae's brothers had a vehicle and would drive her to Van Buren's sheriff's office, Gus Shelter would protect Joey and her. Or a phone. Maybe they had a phone!
“You sure your brothers won't mind you bringing me home?"
“Oh no, I know they won't mind. They'll like you right off, I reckon, because you're so pretty. They like real pretty girls, every one of ‘em do."
“How many brothers do you have, Millie Mae?"
“Four. All of them are older'un me. Mama died when she had me so Granny took care of us. She's gone now, too, just last June, but she was real old, almost a hundred years old."
“I see.” Now that things were a little more under control and her heart rate was back to normal, Kate gazed out over the hollow and hill rising on the other side of it, fearing she'd see the blond man targeting her with a rifle's scope. “Have you seen anybody else in the woods today? Men dressed in black?"
“No, I ain't seen nobody but you all day. The hounds would've sniffed out their trail if they'd come through here. Hey, could I hold Joey for a minute, if I promise not to drop him?"
Relieved that the Russians hadn't made it this far anyway, Kate reluctantly handed Joey over but the little girl seemed to know how to hold a baby. She cradled him in her arms, then beamed up at Kate.
“He's just so pretty."
“Yeah, he sure is.” Kate looked up into the deepening dusk. “It'll be dark soon. Think we better get going?"
“Yes'm. I ain't supposed to be out here in the woods after dark. It's the rules. Matty gets real put out at me if I wander too far off, even with the dogs along to protect me. You see, he promised Granny he'd watch over me and the pigs just before she died and went to heaven."
“The pigs?"
“Granny raised hogs so we'd have plenty of bacon and ham."
Millie Mae seemed to think that was explanation enough. Kate knew there were many hill families along the river who scratched out a bare existence on the hard, rocky ground, rough characters for the most part, but Millie Mae seemed all right. Her clothes were clean, and someone definitely had taught her manners.
“C'mon, Miss Kate, I'll show you the way. That sure is an ugly bruise you got there on your cheek. I bet it hurts something awful, don't it? We'll smear a gob of Granny's salve on that, too, if you like."
Kate nodded, then limped along beside the young girl. She could feel blood trickling down into her shoe but it wasn't terribly painful. Her hand throbbed like the devil, but things could be worse. At least the dogs were bounding through the trees in front of them, controlled by Millie Mae's whistled commands. If her Russian assailants did catch up to her, she'd have a better chance with Millie Mae and her great big, strong brothers than she would all alone in the woods. She listened to Millie Mae's chatter and Joey's answering goos, thinking the skinny little girl with the freckles and the pigtails might just turn out to be the best friend she ever had.
Eleven
BY THE TIME they reached the outside perimeter of Millie Mae Jones's farm, Kate was having serious misgivings about tagging along with the little girl. It had taken about twenty minutes of walking, or limping in Kate's case, to reach the hilltop dirt farm where Millie Mae lived. More disturbing, the well-tended patches they'd passed so far included not just the usual farmer's crops of corn and beans but plenty of healthy marijuana plants as well. Millie Mae's brothers obviously ran one of the lucrative marijuana farms that had become increasingly prevalent throughout the rugged Ozark Mountains.
The fields through which Millie Mae led Kate in a rather circuitous route were small in size, the illegal plants set inside newly planted corn that would eventually grow tall and screen the marijuana from casual observers. Pop and Gus both had been aware of this new, drug-driven culture among hillbillies who'd turned in their white-lightning stills and gone to more profitable endeavors. The sheriff had also mentioned that most of these hill marijuana growers were completely, utterly ruthless. Now Kate was headed straight into their hidden conclave.
As she ducked underneath camouflage netting strung up between trees as concealment for a small metal-roofed shed, she felt a sinking sensation—maybe because of the empty cans of ethylene alcohol tossed into a big pile—that a crude methamphetamine lab was being operated inside. It occurred to her that the weird guy with the long beard and camo fatigues could be one of Millie Mae's big brothers. If that turned out to be the case, she felt fairly certain he wouldn't shoot her down in cold blood. That's more than she could say about everybody else after her.
“Watch out now, Miss Kate,” Millie Mae said, turning to look back at her, for some reason having decided to call her that from the first. “You have to watch your step and go just where I go or you might step into trouble. Matty and the boys, they've set a bunch of booby traps for the law so they cain't be giving us no ugly surprises."
Oh, God, Kate thought, there was no doubt now, though there hadn't been much to begin with. She was walking smack dab into a den of petty criminals who might just as soon shoot her as look at her. She stopped warily and glanced around but saw no booby traps or alarm systems. Through some cleared woods about thirty yards up the hill, she could see a long mobile home set in a grove of oak trees. There was one of those new, smaller satellite dishes attached to its roof, painted in a streaked green-and-brown pattern. Indeed, the entire trailer was painted with olive green and black camouflage. Camouflage was turning out to be quite the thing out here in the hills. Like it or not, she was about to associate herself with drug traffickers. On the other hand, these guys couldn't be any more lethal than the killers after Joey and her. She frowned, realizing they very well could be as bad, or even worse. She just hoped to God, they weren't.
The pack of dogs flew ahead, apparently pleased to be back home, heading in loping strides toward a tall, beefy man who'd rounded the back of the long, well-kept trailer house. It was a big one, set up on concrete blocks, also painted olive, with a dark green awning supported by rough-cut poles forming a makeshift front porch. He was wearing blue denim overalls with a black plaid flannel shirt underneath it. Unfortunately, he wasn't the man she'd met in the woods the day before.
“That's Matty up there,” Millie Mae informed Kate as she halted long enough to tickle a forefinger underneath Joey's chubby chin. “He's the oldest of us all. And he's the biggest, too. He's strong enough to pull his truck with a rope held between his teeth. He's got real strong teeth. We all got ‘em. That comes from our Granny. Matty's been thinking of getting in that strongest man in the world game, you know, the one they're always showing on that ESPN sports channel. He'd win it, sure as shootin', I know he would. Why, I've seen him throw empty whiskey barrels all the way up to the barn loft, that's before Luke accidentally caught it on fire. But Matty's almost got it all built back good as new now. We keep the dog pens up there where the horse stalls used to be.” She gestured at a large, weathered barn farther up the hill behind the trailer.
Millie Mae seemed proud of Matty's accomplishments, and Kate wondered why Matty had felt the need to pull a four-wheel drive vehicle around with his teeth. The future strongest man in the world watched them approach. Some kind of assault rifle stood propped against the side of the mobile home, the kind the army used, near enough for him to grab at any moment. With each step that brought them closer to the man, Kate's apprehension grew. She clutched Joey a little tighter.
Matty was looking bigger by the minute, in fact. She wasn't sure she'd ever seen a man with such a powerful, barrel-chested physique. He wasn't real tall but his arms were absolutely massive, his biceps the size of large hams. His hair wasn't red like Millie Mae's but lemon blond, his skin
florid, apparently the kind that burned easily in the sun. He had a sunburn now. His sleeves were rolled up, and she could see homemade tattoos on each forearm. One of them said MOMMA. She couldn't see what the other one said, and wasn't sure she wanted to know. As they crossed the last patch of sunlight filtering through the giant oak trees, she saw he held a can of Budweiser in his right hand. On his left hip he wore a very large pistol in a black leather holster. Please, please, don't be drunk, Kate thought, as Millie Mae greeted her scary-looking brother.
“Matty, look here what I found out in the woods. The dogs sniffed her out,” Millie Mae called out happily, as if she'd been on an Easter egg hunt and come up with the coveted golden egg. “Ain't she pretty? Got big, brown eyes just like Granny's."
Oh God, don't say things like that, Millie Mae, Kate thought, stomach plummeting. She waited nervously for the beefy man's response. Up close she could see that he really wasn't very old, probably early thirties at the most, around Kate's age, maybe. She watched Matty squeeze the aluminum beer can until it was flat as a pancake, then toss it aside. It hit with a metallic clink on a bunch of other beer cans. She hoped he hadn't drunk them all at once. He scratched the blond chest hair showing at the open throat of his shirt. He didn't say anything, just stared at Kate. Kate gave a tentative smile, hoping that if he was drunk, it was the passing-out kind.
Millie Mae was chattering on like an excited little bird. “And she has a little baby with her, too, Matty. Cute as a shiny new button, ain't he? She let me hold him in my arms for a minute. Some bad men are chasing her so I told her we'd be glad to help her get away from them. You won't let ‘em hurt her, will you Matty? I like her and I promised her you wouldn't let nobody hurt her."
