Dead Woods

by Raylan Kane

  Next to him, Marsh looked on, her hand gripped a metal pole, sweat stained the underarms of her Sheriff's Deputy uniform. “Keep going!” She shouted.

  The bus wheels slammed stumps and roots. The giant grizzly kept coming.

  “Move, move, move!” Marsh screamed.

  “I've got the pedal to the floor,” Clive said. “Can't go any faster.”

  “That thing's gaining on us!” Shouted a worker from the back.

  The bus reached the apex of a steep hill. Marsh planted her feet. Clive glared at the jagged rocks jutting from the road. “This isn't gonna be good!” He clutched the wheel with white knuckles. The bus tipped forward and coasted fast. “Brace yourselves!”

  Like cement in a washing machine the white school bus smashed every rock at breakneck speed. One of the loggers had a near miss with the ceiling. The fifty-five foot tall bear took one step down the hill, throwing its shadow across the rig. Clive's eyes grew as wide as silver dollars as his hand slipped from the wheel. The bus veered for an exposed chunk of granite.

  “This is it!”

  Shards of metal and rubber exploded as the bus slammed into the boulder. The engine died. The violent and sudden stop threw workers from their seats, knocking a few unconscious. The bear stopped too, looking at the silent bus with curiosity. Clive's arm laid across the wheel having absorbed the impact of his head. Marsh hit the floor, and she observed Denby had been thrown down as well, he was dazed but conscious.

  Anyone able picked themselves up off the floor.

  “Grab whatever guns you have,” Marsh said to the workers. “Flares too. And stay low. That thing might take a swipe at us.”

  Two of the loggers retrieved shotguns and ammo from overhead storage. Another three found the flare kits. Everyone laid motionless hearing nothing but a stiff breeze swish through the Alaskan bush.

  Then the great bear thundered away. Gone.

  A collective sigh of relief was interrupted by three mountain lions attacking the bus at once. Marsh fired three rounds into one as it burst through the front door. It fell, dead. Two others entered the busted rear door. Men screamed into a cloud of fur and blood. The cougars leaped into the men like a lightning strike. The loggers with shotguns missed their targets, killing their comrades.

  When a splash of blood splattered onto Marsh's face she screamed.

  She bolted upright, coated in sweat, Reese sat on the bed next to her. The silence of the dark room around her rang loud. It took a minute for Marsh to get her bearings.

  She reached out to her dog. “It was so real,” she said, her breathing still heavy from the nightmare. “Oh my god, it was so real.”

  Marsh got out of bed and went to the bathroom sink. She splashed water on her face and stared at her toes for a minute. Then she shook her head in recognition of what she had to do. “Dammit,” she muttered. She walked to her night stand and picked up her cell phone. Reese laid back down on the mattress and Marsh scrolled through her list of contacts until she found the man's name. Fighting back the adrenaline racing through her, she hit the 'call' button and waited. Special Agent Winters answered.

  “I don't want to be calling you,” Marsh said.

  “Marsh?” Winters said, grogginess in his voice. “What's going on?”

  “Be honest with me, Agent Winters. You got the locals riled up for a reason. You know those bears are real, don't you? You didn't say it to me, but I know the truth. You found out. And, there's been deaths, hasn't there? Your people, the ones you talked about. This isn't a search and rescue at all, is it? is there anyone left alive out there to rescue in the first place?”

  Winters sighed. “Fine,” he said, “yes. You're right. None of this is public knowledge, just so that you're aware.”

  “I'm aware that you lied.”

  “I didn't lie. Not exactly. Look, the public doesn't need to know, okay? Let's get that out of the way right now.”

  “I wasn't planning on saying anything. No one's going to listen to damaged goods like me anyway.”

  “That's one way of thinking about it.”

  “So,” Marsh said, “what is this then? It's not a search and rescue mission. So, what then, seek and destroy? You and me and these hunters, you want us to go out there and put these damned things down?”

  “You don't mince words,” Winters said. “Must be a cop thing. Yes, so, the Bureau's not sending anyone, and the cops in Fairbanks don't seem interested, so I got-”

  “Count me in.”

  “What? Hang on-”

  “I said, I'm in. Seek and destroy. I'm going. But, I've got stipulations. We're not out there to study these things? Got it. We're there to kill them. All of them, however many there are. No messing around. And, Bill is not to bring his dogs with him? Understand?”

  Winters began to speak again, but Marsh cut him off.

  “Those are my terms, Winters. You want me? Those are my terms.” She hung up and tossed the phone on the bed.

  What are you doing? She asked herself and she closed her eyes letting out a long slow breath. Reese shuffled towards her, across the mattress. He pushed his nose under her arm. Marsh opened her eyes and smiled at him.

  “I hate to say it, buddy,” she said, “I know you're not going to like me leaving, but you are definitely not coming. Don't worry, I'll find someone to take care of you 'til I get back.”

  11

  A red chopper cut across a clear blue sky approaching Hiller Canyon. The charter pilot, Tessa Mackey, sat in the cockpit with Special Agent Winters wearing a headset to her right. In the back, Jen Marsh sat on a bench sandwiched between Bill Brothers and Wally Simpson, while Lindsay Watts, and Sal Kurtz sat facing them on the opposite bench. Marsh had gotten her way and Bill left his tracking dogs at home, something he was not pleased about, but Winters threatened not to pay the man nor include him on the trek otherwise. Prior to boarding the aircraft, Marsh thanked Bill for not bringing his dogs and he merely grumbled in response. It didn't surprise her much, she'd always thought of Bill as a bit of grump and an old school misogynist as well.

  Special Agent Winters for his part, fought with Tessa's employers at Whiskeyjack Wilderness Excursions for everyone on board to have full headsets with mics for the helicopter ride out to the canyon and back. Marsh was glad that he did, as she didn't want to be left out of any conversation that might have been occurring without her knowledge up in the front. She stared out at the canopy of evergreens below them, constantly scanning for any sign of a giant brown mass poking through the trees. Everyone else was resigned to the same searching and there wasn't much chatter over the air until Tessa neared the customary landing zone that her company often used to drop off anglers and hunters headed for the backcountry.

  “What the hell?” Tessa said, staring through the floor window.

  Winters looked down and could see the Ryback River raging beneath them. Five large trees laid across the rapid waters. “What is it?” He said.

  “The pad,” Tessa said, “it's not there.”

  “Maybe you're in the wrong area.”

  Tessa rolled her eyes at the FBI Agent. “You know how many flights I've logged out here?”

  “Sorry. But, how can a landing pad be gone?”

  “What's the problem?” Marsh said from the back.

  “This is where we do most of our drops,” Tessa said. “But the river, looks like it's flooded right over it.”

  “Look at that!” Winters pointed to Tessa's left at a wide swath of downed trees that formed a gully through the spruce forest leading to the Ryback.

  “Something knocked those trees into the river,” Lindsay said, “dammed it partially, diverted it.”

  “Great,” Tessa said.

  “So, what do we do?”

  Tessa shook her head. “We're gonna have to divert as well. We've got another space. A clearing on the west side. Bit of a haul though.”

  “So,” Winters said, “let's go there.”

  Tessa shook her head. “I'm gonna have to ca
ll this in. We're returning to Branson.”

  “What?”

  Everyone in the back shouted in protest.

  “I'm sorry, people,” Tessa said. “I ain't got enough fuel to get me back to town once I drop you. Our other space is miles from here. Many miles.”

  “I don't care,” Marsh said. “We're out here now. You can come with us.”

  “Uh-uh, that's not in my contract. Besides, how am I supposed to get back?”

  “Can't you call for another chopper?” Winters said.

  Tessa looked down at the river again, contemplating. “Suppose I could,” she said, “but how long you folks looking to be out here?”

  “A few days.”

  “A few days? That's definitely not in my contract.”

  “Winters,” Marsh said, “do something.”

  Winters knew what she meant. He looked Tessa in the eyes as she held the stick, kept the craft hovering over the raging Ryback. “Look,” he said, “you know I'm FBI, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, I can approve additional funding.”

  “What kind of additional funding?”

  “How about triple your salary?”

  “For real?”

  “Yes. You take us out to this other spot of yours, and I'll make sure of it.”

  Tessa narrowed her eyes at the man. “You Feds don't play around, huh?”

  “Do we have a deal?”

  “For triple?” She watched Winters for any sign of deception. He kept looking at her, seriousness in his glare. Tessa nodded. “Alright, fine. But just so you all know, I ain't carrying a gun.”

  “Good.”

  Tessa and Winters shook hands and the craft lifted higher above the river. “Hold on, folks,” Tessa said, “looks like we've got a bit of a ride yet.”

  12

  Ninety minutes later, Tessa was relieved to see the clearing in the black spruce come into view. For the previous twenty minutes she was worried she'd over-flown the space, not as confident in its location as she was with the original landing pad.

  “There it is,” she said in a breathy tone.

  “You almost sound like you weren't sure,” Winters noted.

  “Nah, I'm just happy to see it is all.”

  “Female pilots,” Bill mumbled.

  “What was that?” Marsh said, frowning at the man.

  “Nothing.”

  “Didn't sound like nothin' to me,” Lindsay said. A stern look on her face.

  Bill rolled his eyes. “Just what we need, a helicopter full of feminists.”

  “I need you all to be quiet,” Tessa said, “this space is a bit trickier to access.”

  Tessa navigated the chopper lower down toward the tree tops. The clearing cut around the landing pad was just wide enough to accommodate the spinning rotor. They had dropped down to within 15 feet of the tallest spruces when Marsh's eyes bulged and she instinctively jumped back from the side door into Wally. Bill saw it too.

  “Bear!”

  “Where?”

  “Three o'clock!”

  A humongous grizzly, forty-five feet tall slammed through the forest, running straight toward them.

  “There it is! There it is!”

  “By god,” Winters said, incredulous.

  “Someone get a bead on him,” Lindsay said.

  “Got it,” Sal Kurtz had his rifle aimed, the barrel pressed up against the window on the rear side door. He pulled the trigger and the glass burst open. He pumped three rounds into the animal as it neared the hovering craft.

  “You hit him?”

  There was panic in the back as everyone scrambled around to get a view.

  “I got him!”

  “Pull up!” Winters screamed. “Pull up!”

  Tessa, stunned for a moment then snapped to it and yanked on the stick, but the bear lunged and rapped the side of the aircraft with its massive paw. The impact crumpled the door next to Winters and drove the steel into his right leg creating an enormous gash. He screamed in agony as everyone fell to the left side of the chopper when it swooped downward almost on its side from the bear's follow-through. The bear belted out a loud yelp as the overhead rotor blade struck its ear, slicing off a large piece. It's blood spilled to the forest floor. Tessa fought to regain control, but the engine blew, and smoke billowed from the top of the helicopter. “Hang on!” She hollered.

  The passengers in the back were tossed around from wall to wall then from the floor to the ceiling and back. The block of steel from the crumpled door ripped away from Winters leg pulling with it a large chunk of flesh, tendons, and ligaments. Then the helicopter slammed into the tree tops and rolled over and over, crashing through the branches before finally smashing into the ground.

  The giant bear had taken one of the bullets in its heart and after being hit with the chopper blade retreated into the woods. For nearly a minute everyone in the downed chopper laid in a heap, stunned, but conscious. Everyone that is, except for Sal Kurtz.

  “Sal?” Lindsay said, looking down at the man. His face coated in blood. “Sal?”

  “Is everyone alright?” Tessa shouted. She was on her back, against what was left of the shattered front windshield.

  “I'm good,” Marsh said.

  Winters hollered in absolute misery. His femur had broken in half and the bone jutted upward, exposed through his pant leg.

  “Sal,” Lindsay spoke to him again, then she felt for a pulse on his neck. Nothing. “Jesus Christ,” she said, tears forming in her eyes. “He's dead.”

  “What the hell kinda flying was that?” Bill said.

  “Hey!” Marsh yelled. “You saw what happened, that thing hit us.”

  “Not before Sal hit him,” Wally said, turning himself back upright.

  “Let's just keep a cool head here, alright?” Tessa said. “Does anyone need any help getting out other than Agent Winters here?”

  “Winters,” Marsh called to him.

  He was too delirious with pain to answer.

  “Winters,” she said, “hold still, alright, we're gonna get you outta here in a minute.”

  The side door at the back was pointed skyward and had busted partially open. Marsh stepped on the edge of the bench and thrust herself out of the helicopter first. She reached back in and pulled Wally up toward her and the sixty-year old joined her on the top. They pulled Bill out next, with Tessa helping to boost him. Then Tessa held out her hand for Lindsay.

  “Come on,” Tessa said to the woman. “We don't know when that thing might come back.”

  “We can't just leave Sal.”

  “He's gone,” Bill said, “nothing we can do.”

  “I ain't leavin' him,” Lindsay said. “It ain't right.”

  “Lindsay,” Marsh said, “listen to me, we'll give Sal a proper burial later, okay? But right now we've gotta get you outta this thing, set up somewhere, prepare in case another one of those things comes around. Give Tessa your hand, alright?”

  As upset as she was, Lindsay saw the logic in what Marsh was saying. She nodded and Tessa boosted her up toward the others on top of the vessel. Then everyone helped to pull Tessa from the wreckage.

  Once down on the ground, the group pushed out what was left of the windshield behind Agent Winters. Winters held his leg, moaning. “Jesus,” Bill said, “it's bad.”

  “Now's not the time,” Marsh said, having seen her fair share of grotesque injuries on the Alaskan highways. “We get him secure.”

  “What are you gonna do for that?”

  “He's really bleedin' bad.”

  “We gotta get our supplies out of there.”

  “Whatever's left of 'em.”

  13

  One of the aluminum rails on the canvas stretcher was dented, but that was the only damage the item took in the crash. Once Tessa fished the thing out of the back of the chopper, everyone had a hand in rolling Special Agent Winters onto the stretcher as gently as they could.

  “Should probably be strap him to it.”


  “Yep.”

  The duffel bags full of guns, ammo, camping, and survival equipment were also retrieved, though much of it was definitely the worse for wear. Each group member carried the bags on their backs. The firearms that weren't destroyed were worn with their nylon straps draped over their shoulders. Deputy Marsh also had her Glock holstered to her belt.

  “Easy, easy,” Marsh said to the group as they walked on either side of the stretcher, carrying the gravely wounded FBI Agent away from the helicopter down a slight hill and in the opposite direction from where the giant grizzly had attacked. They endured sharp, bristly branches that scratched their arms and cheeks as they pressed farther into the woods.

  They'd walked over a mile when Bill finally spoke up. “How far we looking to go here?”

  “I don't wanna be anywhere near that crash site.”

  “Don't want to stray too far, I don't think,” Wally said. “When rescue comes, you want them to be able to find us.”

  “What rescue?” Bill said. “You all are delusional.”

  Tessa had tried the radio before they picked up Winters and walked. The console was so damaged from the crash she was unable to raise a signal.

  “Eventually they'll send someone,” Tessa said. “It's protocol.”

  Winters moaned for the first time in twenty minutes. He'd been drifting in and out of consciousness since they'd started walking.

  “I don't think he's going to make it,” Bill said. “He looks bad.”

  “He's gonna be fine,” Marsh said, anger in her voice. “The last thing he needs is to hear that kinda talk.”

  “I'm only being honest.”

  “Shut your mouth,” Lindsay snapped at him. “Unless you want me to shut it for you.”

  Bill didn't say a word for another ten minutes. Eventually, they reached a small clearing near a narrow stream populated with mossy rocks.

  “This could work,” Marsh said.

  “You wanna set up camp here?”

  “Yep.”

  The crew gingerly laid down the stretcher on a flat patch of dirt.

  “Nah,” Bill said. “This is all wrong. All of it. We oughta be packing it in and going home.”