by J.J. Mainor
Chapter 3
Gunner placed what would be the last log into the fire ring before lighting the fire. Reese protested at the sadly small pile waiting for the match. He wanted everything to be big, especially this fire. It should be roaring with life, not whimpering pathetically. The flames should dance to the tree tops, turning the night into day. He thought it should compare the average summer temperatures to a mild winter.
When he played football back in high school, everything was a spectacle. The marching band opened each Friday night more grandiose than it had the week before. It wasn’t enough they played, they had to perform; not just marching, but dancing around the field. Their job was to light up the crowd, fire them up to forget they had seen too many games like the one were about to see.
And it wasn’t enough for Reese and his team to just simply step onto the field. They had to charge the field, tearing through banners and storming the smoke machines. Football wasn’t a game; it was an escape for a town settled into a pattern of dull and ordinary lives.
They were playing to the middle-aged parents worried about getting their children to school. People worried about how high the heating bill would climb that winter. Husbands, wondering if the weather would hold so they could mow the lawn. And wives hoping to stretch the grocery budget in order to buy hamburger this week.
They were playing to students who never applied themselves to their studies. Students who after four years, saw their grades weren’t strong enough to get them into a state college. They played for students planning their futures around making a living rather than living a dream. They played for students who already knew they’d never be that model in the magazine or that star on TV.
Football was all about making people forget their ordinary lives in exchange for the greatness of some fictional ideal. It was meant to inspire others to dream bigger, if only for a couple hours. It was about aspiring to something larger, much like Reese wanted this fire to aspire to something larger than Gunner was going to allow.
But it wasn’t that Gunner had anything against fire. Nor was he afraid to signal his return to the killer. It was simply that this summer had been overly dry. Had their camp been placed in a sanctioned spot, they would be banned from even building a fire.
Maybe had they been staying in Raymond’s old camp, by Raymond’s old river, they would have the means to fight any accident they might ignite. Instead they were in their own spot, completely dry except for the water they had brought to drink. Since they were trespassing, Gunner wasn’t as much concerned with following rules as he was with making sure they don’t burn down the forest before they found his brother.
Football wasn’t Gunner’s sport anyway. His sport of choice was soccer. There was something saner about the sport. Players weren’t trying to kill each other. All you wanted to do was out-kick the other guy. It was like one large game of keep-away.
Gunner had played all four of his high school years, and it was through the team that he met Zach. Though Zach was two years ahead of him, they had made such fast friends, they stuck together even after Zach went to college.
It was through Zach, that Gunner befriended Reese. While not quite in the same social circle, those two had grown up together in the same neighborhood. They were to close to let their diverging high school interests drive them apart. After their sports, after Reese’s gym time and Zach’s studies, and after their girlfriends and the uncertainty of settling into their new adult lives, these friends could always count on each other being there; not just Reese and Zach, but Gunner and even his brother Greg.
And then there was this old man, Raymond, spending the night with them before setting out for his old stomping grounds. While he wasn’t too keen opening up to this stranger, Gunner figured he at least deserved to know there was a danger new to him.
“As we said,” Gunner began, “we’ve been coming up here for a few summers now. My brother, Greg, heard about this place from a few friends. It was out of the way, way out of the way, but it sounded like the perfect place we could go and hang out. A place we could drink as much as we wanted. A place we could party as much as we wanted. A place we could get into as much trouble as we wanted and not get caught. It had been logged out years ago. We didn’t think anyone else would ever be out here. No one would find us here.
“When we found it, it was everything it promised to be. We returned over and over again, all through the summer. Anybody who wanted came with us: my friends, Greg’s friends, Zach and Reese and their friends, everyone’s girlfriends. It got crazy at times, and kind of quiet and peaceful other times. Last month I came up here with just my brother for one of those quiet trips. It was supposed to be a weekend of drinking and relaxing.
“We did some hiking during the daytime. We knew about that shed up the way. It wasn’t very exciting; a little oversized and very empty. But it was a landmark, a trail post, a destination. And it was empty; at least it was supposed to be. We pushed open the door and peeked inside. It wasn’t empty that time. It looked like someone had been living in it. There was a pile of old blankets on one side that looked like it might have been a bed. A log stood on end for a table with a couple empty cans of hash sitting on it. Something about it felt as if this person was still around.
“Greg didn’t think we should be there when this person came back, so we left. We thought the guy could be a little loony, but we had no idea how dangerous he was.
“That night while we sat around the fire, both of us ridiculously drunk, I stepped away to find some more beer. That’s when he snuck up right behind Greg and stabbed him. Greg screamed for me to run. My head was still spinning from the beer and it took the second stabbing before it hit me what was happening. I wanted to rush in and help Greg. I wanted to save him, but he crumpled to the ground before I could move. It was too late and he was dead. At that point the only thing I could do was run for the van and get away. And I left him. I left him right there.”
Gunner pointed to the spot where his brother was attacked, the spot right next to where Reese was sitting, sending shivers up the tough guy’s spine. Even Raymond looked concerned.
“Are you sure your brother’s dead,” the old man asked.
“What kind of question is that?” Reese could not adequately express the disgust he felt at this insensitivity. “Gunner said he couldn’t save him.
“If there’s a chance,” Raymond spoke up as Reese jumped to his feet to stop him. His fists were balled tightly ready for a fight.
“If there’s a chance that asshole is still in these woods, I’ll give him the same chance he gave our friend.”
Raymond simply looked to him dismissively. “You’re pretty strong, aren’t you? You’re some kind of tough guy?”
Being the jokester he was, Zach saw his chance to diffuse the tension. “Reese here can bench press 315 pounds.” As expected, it elicited a smile from both men. Reese once again took his seat.
“Let me tell you something,” Raymond let out with a sigh, “It doesn’t matter how much you can bench press to a man with a gun.”
With that, Gunner reached into the pockets of his cargo shorts, and took out a gun. “That’s why I brought this.”
All three of his friends were shocked into silence. None of them even knew he owned a gun, let alone had one with him. More than the gun itself, they were awakened by what it represented.
Up to that point the stories of this killer had seemed like some vague fairytale. He was a boogeyman; a fictional construct they might wave away with a magic wand. It took the physical presence of a gun to make their mission real. For the first time since Gunner had approached them for their help did it occur to Zach, Reese, and Kimberly that the killer he told them of was real. All three suddenly wondered if they weren’t underprepared.
If this was to somehow be their last night, Kimberly decided she wanted to spend it doing something fun. She tapped her boyfriend on the
shoulder and pointed to their tent. Reese’s fears melted away into a sly smile as he followed her for some private time.
Raymond noticed Zach looking a little lonely and slid over beside him. “No girl for you?
Zach removed his wallet from his shorts, retrieving a picture of Jeri. He took her loveliness in before passing it to the old man. “Her name’s Jeri. She was just a girl in my class until I needed a date to the senior prom. Like a fool I waited until the last minute to ask anyone. By the time I did, she was the only girl not taken. Not that there was anything wrong with her; I just think she was waiting herself for something she couldn’t find. I was probably her last chance as she was mine.
“She was great though. We got to talking. Turned out we listened to the same music. She likes the same movies. Thank God she wasn’t into romantic comedies or it would have made for some awful nights later in our relationship. But we like to do the same kinds of things. Sometimes she was better at them than I was. First time we went bowling, she kicked my ass. I was just glad Reese wasn’t there to see that.”
It was all nostalgia for Raymond, remembering the women he had been with, the good times he had had in his younger days. “You kids are too young for lasting relationships,” he noted. “This is the time of your life where you fuck as many girls as you can. Get your fun. Take your pleasures. Experience and experiment with life before chaining yourself to one woman.”
His last words came out strained. He barely got them out before breaking into a coughing fit.
“Are you all right,” Gunner asked him, more out of duty than concern.
“Yeah,” Raymond replied finally able to clear his throat. “The worst thing about getting old is your body fails every chance it gets. You kids still have long lives ahead of you. Don’t throw them away because of a regret.”
With that the old man retired to his tent. Zach figured it was the end of the evening, but Gunner wasn’t hearing it. Someone had to take watch in case his brother’s killer made an appearance. If it meant sitting up all night, he would make sure the killer did not get back into their camp.
