Dead Woods
Page 11
“Jesus!” Lindsay yelled. “God that hurts.”
The sock underneath the boot was colored by blood from the toes to the heel and all along the top of the foot. Marsh peeled the sock off Lindsay's foot and chucked it aside. The woman's foot was pale to the point of almost being gray. They stared at the chewed up bits of ground beef where Lindsay's big toe had been, both fascinated and horrified by the sight.
“Good lord, that's nasty,” Lindsay said. “Clear some of that off there.” She pointed to a few strands of cloth that had stuck to the wound, encrusted by dried blood and pus.
Marsh pulled the bits away while Lindsay howled as she did so. “I'm sorry,” Marsh said.
“It's okay,” Lindsay bellowed.
With the cloth removed they eyed the wound and noted the purple hue around the exposed bone and the yellowy fluid that oozed there. Also there was a lot of dried blood coating the second toe and a couple of crusty lines where blood had flowed over the top of her foot.
“That's the knuckle, I guess, that I can see there,” Marsh said, pointing to the exposed bone at the base of where Lindsay's big toe used to be.
“Yes. I guess so. The whole thing's infected. I can tell that much.”
“I think you're right.”
“That isn't good.”
“We don't have any alcohol. There's no ointment either. Nothing I can clean it up with other than water.”
“Should I stick my foot out in the rain?”
Marsh could tell she wasn't joking. “And then wipe the area off, you mean?”
“Yes, just to clean it up a little.”
“If you think it'll do any good.”
“Can't make it any worse.”
“I suppose you could do that, and I could use some of this extra clothing, I think there's a shirt that belonged to Wally I could tear off some of that and re-dress the wound.”
“Alright.”
Lindsay soaked her foot in the rain for a while. She wasn't sure if it was placebo or not, but she'd gained some sense of relaxation, some form of soothing from the hard rain's pelting against her injured foot. She tried to tell herself that nature itself was helping to cleanse her and to rid her of the infection, but deep down she knew that wasn't how things worked. Eventually, she brought her foot back inside the tent and Marsh wrapped strands of one of Wally's plaid shirts tightly around the wound.
“For some reason, the tighter you pull that the better it feels,” Lindsay said.
“I know what you mean,” Marsh said, “or well, I can imagine.”
They crawled into their sleeping bags, and for the most part, Marsh had been right. The outside of the sleeping bags were a lot more wet than the inside, though there was some dampness to contend with. Still, Marsh found the sensation of the thick blanketing against her naked skin to be really comfortable, much more so than every other time when they'd gone to bed fully dressed given they had always been in mixed company.
“Are we gonna be able to sleep?” Lindsay said. “It's so loud out there. And it's still daylight.”
“Should I give you another Tylenol?”
“Maybe. Well...yes. That sounds good.”
Marsh gave Lindsay another pain pill. She drank it down and laid back ready to drift off.
“I'll be able to sleep, no problem,” Marsh said. “I think we're both more exhausted than we realize.”
“You're probably right.”
Marsh rolled onto her side and closed her eyes, and no more than a minute later, she was gone.
Hey!
The deputy's eyes snapped open. She couldn't see a thing. Total darkness. Night time. The rain had subsided. Marsh could only hear the odd drop against the tent's canvas as the wind was still blowing whatever remnants of the storm remained among the spruce branches. Why am I awake? Why now? What time is it?
“You hear that?” Lindsay was awake too.
“Hear what?”
“Something.”
Then it became clear. A dog's bark. Reese? Marsh thought to herself. Then another bark. No. That's not him. How would he get out here anyway?
“It's a dog,” Lindsay said.
“As long as it's not a wolf.”
“No, it's a dog.”
“Out here? This far out in Hiller Canyon?”
“It's weird. Might mean someone's out here,” Lindsay said. “Someone looking for us.”
30
“Get the guns,” Lindsay said, swallowing back the pain driving up her leg.
“Yeah, I think you're right.” Marsh clicked on her flashlight and sat it in such a way as to light the inside of the tent like a lantern. She quickly found some clothes and threw them on. “Here,” she said, tossing a shirt to Lindsay, “cover yourself.”
The dog's bark sounded close, as though the animal was right outside their tent. Then a voice, something soft just audible over the wind. Marsh stood next to the front flap of the tent, her pistol in hand. She'd given Lindsay one of the rifles.
“Should I go out there?” Marsh said, unsure.
“You hear that.”
“Someone talking.”
“Hey!” Lindsay shouted. She was sitting up, her legs still inside the sleeping bag. She held the rifle up in front of her, aimed straight ahead towards the sound of the voice. Then she heard it again, like a whisper carried on the breeze. “Identify yourself or you're gonna get shot!”
Marsh and Lindsay looked at one another, puzzled. The dog barked again, and again the sound of what might have been a male voice.
“Stop!” Lindsay yelled. “We will shoot you!”
The sound of branches breaking crackled directly in front of where Lindsay was situated inside the tent. Without hesitation she fired two shots. Someone cried out a short distance away.
“You got someone!” Marsh said. She dodged outside, and immediately a dog was at her side, barely visible in the faint light from inside the tent. She pointed her pistol at the dog at first, unsure if it was a threat, but right away she could tell he was friendly. He was somebody's pet. “Who's out there?”
“Don't shoot!” Came a male voice.
“Please,” said a female voice. “We need help!”
“Did they say 'help'?” Lindsay said.
“Yes,” Marsh said. She turned her attention to the dark forest ahead of her, towards the source of the two voices. “Your dog is over here. Can you see the light over in this direction?”
“Yes, we can see it,” said the female voice.
“Good. Walk toward it slow. With your hands up. Do you understand?”
“Yes.” The woman sounded as though she might be crying. “You've hurt my friend you know?”
“Well, you should've identified yourself.”
The dog stayed by Marsh's side as two shadows emerged from the trees and entered the clearing. As they stepped close to the tent, Marsh could see a man and a woman, both of them filthy and looking like they'd absolutely been through the wringer. The man held a palm to his left shoulder. Marsh could see quite a bit of blood.
“Who are you?”
“Are they here?” Lindsay called out.
“Yes, they're right here,” Marsh said, keeping her pistol aimed at them. “Who are you?”
“You didn't have to shoot me,” said the man.
“Looks like you were grazed.”
“Still.”
“I'm Zita Keller,” the woman said. “This is Mason.”
“And this is your dog?”
“That's Sully,” Zita said. “He belonged to our colleague.”
“And where is she?”
“He, actually,” Mason said. “He's dead.”
“Well, what are you guys doing out here.”
“We were working. Sent here to study the area, in particular we were researching a new species. A large grizzly bear. Really large,” Zita said.
“I'm familiar,” Marsh said.
“You've seen them?”
“Seen them, dealt with them. Yes, I'm well aware of the
ir existence.”
“Who are they?” Lindsay said.
“Researchers. Scientists, right?” Marsh said.
The two of them nodded.
“Well, let's get you inside, outta the wind at least. Sully seems friendly enough.”
“He's really friendly,” Zita said. “Thank you. We were desperate.”
“We're not in much better shape ourselves.”
The three of them and the dog went inside the tent. Lindsay greeted them by keeping the barrel of her weapon pointed in their direction.
“Hey!” Mason said. “Please put it down.”
“You with the Army?” Lindsay said.
Zita and Mason both frowned. “The Army?” Zita said. “No. Why?”
Lindsay lowered the rifle. “Just checking.” She laid back and grimaced as the pain overtook her once again, the adrenaline wearing off.
“We were attacked yesterday. Government people. You guys government?”
“Yes, we are,” Mason said. “But, nothing to do with the military.”
“Again,” Zita said, “we're biologists. We were out here to study this new species.”
“A species that's been killing folks all through this canyon.”
“We found that out the hard way.”
Marsh sat down on her sleeping bag and the other two sat facing her and Lindsay. Sully let out a soft whimper and settled onto Marsh's lap. “What do you mean 'the hard way'?”
“We've lost ten people out here,” Zita said, on the edge of tears once again. “How we've managed to survive this long, I'll never know.”
“Looks like you're in a bad way yourself,” Mason said to Lindsay, noticing she was wincing in pain.
“I'm sorry for shooting at you,” Lindsay said. “Like my friend here said, we were dealing with some unfriendly folks recently.”
“Looks worse than it is, I guess,” Mason said pulling his hand away from his shoulder. “More of a big scratch really. Hurts quite a bit though, I won't lie.”
“They got me in my foot,” Lindsay said. “Son of a bitch shot my toe off. Deputy, throw me those pants so I can show them what I mean.”
“Deputy?” Zita said, casting a hopeful glance at Marsh. “You're a cop?”
Marsh nodded. “For all the good that's doing us out here.”
“So you guys are lost as well?” Mason said.
“No. We're hiking our way back to the river.”
“We were just there yesterday.”
“Should've stayed there,” Lindsay said.
“That's our way out of here,” Marsh said.
“I didn't know,” Zita said. “Think we can travel with you?”
“Of course. There's strength in numbers.”
“You have any more people out here? Alive, I mean?” Marsh said.
“I don't think so, no. Not unless the government sent more of us out here than I'd realized.”
“You said you'd dealt with these grizzlies before,” Mason said. “Is that why you guys are out here?”
Marsh nodded. “There were more of us. We came out here to rescue some folks. Hopefully kill as many of those bastards as we could. I'm guessing you were who we were supposed to help.”
“What happened?”
“Helicopter crash. It's been all downhill ever since.”
“Now we just have to get back to Branson. Lindsay's foot is infected. She needs to see a doctor right away. We need to get back and regroup.”
“Us too.”
“I was keen on the idea of letting the military know what we're dealing with out here with these animals, but after taking fire from soldiers yesterday, now I'm not so sure.”
“That's why you asked if we were Army,” Mason said.
“Why would the Army be firing at you?” Zita said. “How did they even know who you were?”
“I don't know that they did. Maybe they had instructions to kill anyone they found out here.”
“The government's going to order the killing of civilians on American soil?” Mason said. “That doesn't make much sense.”
“To us neither.”
“I used one of their weapons on one of those bears,” Marsh said. “Damn thing had a grenade launcher. I blew a hole the size of a refrigerator in that thing's nose.”
“What happened then?”
“What do you think? It ran off.”
“Wow,” Zita said. “We haven't had weapons of any kind. Mason and me have only managed to survive by running and hiding. We were figuring eventually our luck was going to run out.”
“Well, I'd say we're lucky to have found each other.”
“You have any more of those grenades?” Mason said.
Marsh shook her head. “I used up whatever ammo that gun had. There's another dead soldier out there. But, it'd take to long now to locate him and get his weapon. We'd be better off pushing for the Ryback instead.”
“That leads into town?”
“It does.”
Lindsay managed to wriggle her way into a pair of pants and then she pulled her legs out from the sleeping bag. “Here's what I've been dealing with,” she said. Mason and Zita both leaned forward, squinting in the dim light to better view the bloody wound on Lindsay's foot.
“Doesn't look good,” Mason said.
“Tell me about it.”
“How are you able to get around?” Zita said.
Lindsay lifted the long branch from beside her. “A make-shift crutch.”
“It'll make for slow going,” Marsh said, “I should warn you. We won't exactly be running out of here.”
“That's fine,” Zita said. “I feel better just knowing it's more than just two of us.”
“And you both know how to use guns, obviously,” Mason said.
“What about you two?”
Both Zita and Mason shook their heads.
“Guns scare the hell out of me,” Zita said.
“Never shot one in my life,” said Mason. “Not afraid to learn though.”
“Well,” Marsh said, “neither one of us has time to teach you, obviously. But in this situation it might turn out to be baptism by fire.”
“Let's hope it doesn't come to that.”
“Anyway, probably a good idea to get some rest. There's two more sleeping bags in the that duffel over there. We'll head out in the morning, alright?”
“Sounds good.”
Zita and Mason laid out their sleeping bags towards the other end of the tent. Sully stayed with Marsh, feeling some kind of draw towards her. As Marsh laid down, she clicked off the flashlight and the dog nuzzled into her side. She pet his head and her thoughts drifted to Reese back in Branson. “We're gonna get you home,” she said to Sully in a low voice. “I've gotta get home to my guy, too.”
31
At first light everyone was up. Really, sleep had been hard to come by for each of them. A combination of adrenaline and over-exhaustion confounded things.
“Would be good to get a full day of hiking in,” Marsh said, “push as far up the river as we can.”
“I think I know which direction to go,” Zita said. “Like I said, we came from there the day before.”
“I know the way,” Marsh said.
Lindsay sat against the base of a spruce tree while the others tore down the camp. Marsh was happy to have other able hands capable of dismantling the tent and shouldering the load of whatever supplies they had left. Zita for her part had been carrying a half-full bottle of water.
“We had a lot more water before,” she said. “A whole case. We drank through them faster than I would've liked.”
They each took a sip from the bottle.
“We have a few purification tablets,” Marsh said. “Once we get to the river, we'll be able to fill up.”
“That's good news.”
With the campsite squared away, the group moved off into the forest. Lindsay did her best to push her speed, feeling guilty for holding the rest up. As frustrated as Marsh was with their predicament, she also worrie
d about her friend's infection. “Take your time, Lindsay. Don't make things worse.”
“I'm not about to get us killed by going too slow.”
“If those damn things are gonna come for us, it doesn't matter how fast we move.”
“I know,” Lindsay said. “But, I just don't wanna be responsible for holding you all up.”
“Don't worry about that,” Zita said. “Just as long as we all get out of here.”
They hiked for three hours. Marsh was surprised they hadn't found the river yet.
“What were you hoping to find out about these bears anyway?” Lindsay said, as they were stopped in a small clearing for a rest.
“More out to prove their existence,” Mason said.
“We'd been told someone had claimed they were real. We were asked to investigate. Honestly, I always had the idea we were being asked to prove they weren't real. Like it was Bigfoot or something.”
Marsh couldn't help but chuckle. “You were being asked to check up on me.”
“How do you mean?”
“I was the one who claimed they'd existed. I was out here before. Watched those giant things murder my colleagues. They've killed people I loved.”
“And no one believed you?”
“They were trying to pin their deaths on me. I suppose they thought me claiming to have seen fifty foot tall grizzly bears was an attempt on my part to get away with murder, or at least shirk the responsibility for their deaths.”
“Crazy.”
“I do have to say,” Zita said, “I was pretty skeptical when we first came out to the canyon. It's not everyday you hear about bears taller than the trees. I mean, it sounds completely ridiculous even to say it.”
“But, we've seen them,” Mason said.
“Yes,” Zita said, nodding. “We've seen them. And I never want to see them again.”
“I hate to say it,” Marsh said, “but, you're never going to un-see them. They're gonna be part of your dreams for the rest of your days. Your nightmares actually.”
“That's what I'm afraid of.”
Not much more needed to be said, and everyone silently retreated within themselves in the sadness of the moment. The group got back to the hike, and they'd agreed that Lindsay should walk at the lead which allowed her to set the pace at whatever speed she felt comfortable and without the worry of falling behind.