by Clayborn, JJ
Edgar shook his head. “All must have access.”
James shook his head and continued to the next tree in the perimeter. “Edgar, you’re talking crazy. You know that we can’t do that. Help me out, take your tape and…”
Intense pain registered to the back of James’ shoulder with enough force that he stumbled forward, catching himself on his hands and knees. He scrambled back up to find to Edgar standing there, both hands held out in front of him like a boxer. He fists were clenched and he stared coldly at James. “I told you, I cannot allow this.”
James tentatively raised his hands, shaking his head. “Edgar, I’m not going to fight you, but we have to rope this place off.”
Edgar stepped forward and threw a couple of jabs which James easily blocked. Then Edgar threw a slow, lazy hook punch. James easily ducked underneath the attack and delivered a blow to the side of Edgar’s head. Edgar stumbled for a second but appeared to be unharmed. James yelled out as pain radiated down his arm. I always knew Edgar had a hard head.
Edgar turned and continued his slow, awkward assault of James. The slow attacks were easy for Hutchinson to evade, but none of his own punches seemed to have any effect on Edgar. In fact, they seemed to hurt him more. James managed to get some distance between him and Edgar and began to taunt him.
Tarbell took the bait and charged James. At the very last second, James jumped out the way. Hutchinson tucked into a roll as he jumped and rolled back to his feet, spinning around to face Edgar. He looked up just in time to see Edgar trip and fall. Relief gave way to panic and he heard the ground crack and start to slip. It occurred to James where they were - that they had been fighting right on the edge of the crater.
James dove with his hand outstretched toward Edgar, who was now slipping over the precipice. He managed to catch Edgar’s hand just in the nick of time. Edgar was a lot heavier than James remembered. The weight pulled on James, threatening to send him over the edge as well. “Give me your other hand, Edgar, I can’t hold on!” James shouted, panicked.
Edgar swung his body so that he could reach his other hand as high as possible towards James. But James wasn’t ready. As soon as Edgar shifted his weight, James lost his hold and Edgar plummeted into the darkness of the pit. The motion of his body falling created a void in the fog. James watched in horror as Edgar fell to the floor below. His body lay twisted and impossibly broken on the cavern floor before being slowly obscured by the fog.
James stared into the dark hole in disbelief. He was embroiled with emotion. He was angry, terrified, sad, nervous, and confused. He sighed deeply and sat on the ground. “What the hell was that all about, Edgar? Why’d you fight me, over…this?” He gestured around at the crater. He sat for a long minute, staring into the hole, half-hoping that Edgar would answer him, and half-worried that he might. After a few minutes, James stood. “I’m going to have to come back for your body in the morning when there’s light, I’m sorry.”
He quickly taped off the rest of the area around the crater. James bent down by the base of the last tree and wrapped the tape around it. When he stood up a searing pain throbbed through his head. He fell to the ground as the world grew black.
James awoke and clutched his head. It hurt. He looked around, trying to find out what hit him, but he didn’t see anything. He didn’t know how long he’d been out. He didn’t imagine that it was too long, as it was still dark out. The roll of caution tape lay on the ground just beside his hand. He finished securing the perimeter and drove back to the cabin nearby.
Thursday, November 13th
Light crept into the small room of the cabin in little slivers. James bolted upright in the bed. He hadn’t slept very well all night. The bed in the cabin wasn’t the most comfortable, but it wasn’t terrible. But his insomnia wasn’t from lack of comfort. It came from watching his friend and partner fall to his death hours earlier. Every time James started to drift off to sleep his mind would replay some grotesque version of the events.
In his mind, in one dream, he had pushed Edgar over the edge, laughing maniacally as he did.
In another dream, Edgar survived the fall and cried out to James to help, but his body was a mangled wreck. Every time James tried to go down to help him, the ropes would break and James would fall and be swallowed by the blackness of the crater.
Another dream had Edgar climbing out of the hole with his bare hands, his body twisted and broken, unnaturally. He tracked James down, struck him over the head, and drug him back to the pit, and with superhuman strength, them him down the shaft. That was the dream that caused James to wake with a start.
He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and ran his hands over his face, trying to urge himself to wake up. He ambled out of bed and went to the small kitchen. Woodland birds filled the air, singing songs of happiness – songs quite at odds with how James felt.
He opened the coffee and started the pot brewing, the smell of the grounds assaulting his nose. The aroma of the coffee seemed fresher, more intense today. He smelled the grounds once more before putting the lid back. James readied a cup and some sugar on the counter and sighed.
He picked up the phone inside the cabin and called the main Ranger Station District Office. “Hey Alfredo, it’s Hutch, from Memphis. I really need to talk to the Forest Supervisor.”
“He’s out with Ranger Ademaro right now. He should be back in a bit. Is there something I can help with?” Alfredo offered apologetically.
James shook his head. “No, I’m afraid not. It’s really important that I speak with him. Is there no way to contact him?”
Alfredo Albertson thought for a moment. “Well, I know where they were heading. I can take the jeep out and relay a message. They aren’t in cell range and didn’t take a radio.”
James frowned. “Okay, do that. Let him know that he needs to get over to the Little Snow Lake cabin right away. Let him know that he needs to bring the internal investigations team with him.”
Alfredo whistled. “The internal investigations team? Someone died?”
“Yes,” James said nodding to himself. “Now tell him.”
“Who was it?” Alfredo asked.
“Just go tell him. I need him here now.” James blurted out impatiently and he hung up the phone. He thought for a moment about calling back and giving Alfredo more details and apologizing for being short with him. But he decided that he just wanted Supervisor Stevenson here as soon as possible.
James was distracted by the sound of the coffee brewing. The aroma from the coffee pot enveloped him like an old friend. He poured some into the cup he had prepared.
Opening the fridge, he surveyed the contents while the cool air washed over him, invigorating him. The fridge seemed crisper than he remembered. His gaze fell on the bacon and eggs, but he wasn’t really that hungry. Not after Edgar, not after last night. He stood in the door for a few moments, relishing the chilled air and grabbed an orange, deciding that he needed to eat something.
Grabbing his coffee cup and his fruit, James walked outside and sat on the porch staring out over the water. The sunlight reflected off the lake in shimmering hues of golden yellow. Birds circled in the air, calling, fishing, flying. He watched them, sipping his coffee and holding his orange. He lost himself in the memories of his partner and wondered how he would break the news to Oliva.
He didn’t know how long he had been sitting there on the steps, but his coffee was now cold. The sound of tires on a dirt road pulled him back to the present. James stood as the Ranger’s jeep pulled up beside the cabin. Four rangers stepped out, including Forest Supervisor Xavier Stevenson.
James strode over and met them halfway, shaking hands. “Stevenson, thanks for coming.”
“Alfredo said that it’s urgent,” Xavier said, cutting right to the chase. Xavier was like that; always to the point and very direct.
“It is,” James confirmed. He craned his neck and looked over at the investigations team. “I need you boys to clear something up.”
Jame
s reached down and un-holstered his weapon, ejecting the magazine, putting it on safe, and handing it over to the first member of the investigation team, who took with a questioning look. “It’s standard procedure for Rangers to surrender firearms to investigations units while they are investigating a Ranger-Involved Death.”
Stevenson’s eyebrows raised and a tone of incredulity crept into his voice. “You killed someone?”
“Not directly,” James said, looking at the ground and reflecting in silence for a moment. He glanced back at Xavier. “Not on purpose. But someone is dead and I was there.”
Stevenson scrunched his face. “Who?”
“I’d better just show you. We can drive close, but we have to hike in the last leg.” James started walking to his car.
“Wait! Who died?” Stevenson asked after him.
“He’s this way,” James replied, entering the vehicle.
“Hutch!” Xavier yelled, but James got in the truck and started it up.
The other rangers stood around confused and looked at Stevenson for instructions.
“Let’s go, get in,” Stevenson commanded, gesturing to the car.
The group left the cabin and trailed some distance behind Hutchinson. James had them off-roading a short distance south, over to Royston Road. After a short jaunt he turned south on O M Cox Road, then some minutes later, left again on Lone Oak Rd.
During the drive over to the crater, the Investigations Unit whispered among themselves, deciding on how they would break up the investigation and who would do which tasks. Xavier Stevenson remained silent, driving and watching Hutchinson intently.
James pulled off the road to the right and parked. He got out without a word, and started hiking down into the valley below. Stevenson and the team grabbed their gear and followed him. The Forest Supervisor kept a close eye on James. He was very unlike James to behave like this, and seeing someone die or somehow being responsible for it could seriously affect someone.
Hutchinson crested the hill on the opposite side of the valley and stopped abruptly. He stared into the ravine below without saying a word.
Xavier came up beside him and tried talking to him. “Hutchinson, are you okay? Where’s the body? Who died?”
James said nothing and pointed feebly below just as the investigations team crested the hill. One of them let out a whistle.
“What the hell?” said another.
Stevenson finally tore his gaze away from James and looked below. The entire valley was blanketed in a thick, blue-white fog. The tendrils of the mist were whipping out well past the end of the canyon, covering Parks Lake to the south. The air smelled the same, but the valley was eerily quiet. No one made a sound. Not even birds sung near here. Everyone stood for a moment, listening, but the only sound that could be heard was the breathing of the Rangers.
“What the hell is that?” Stevenson asked, pointing to the fog.
James started walking down the hill, disappearing into the fog. “I don’t know. Fog. Fear… Death. Call it whatever you want,” he said over his shoulder.
Xavier and the team exchanged worried looks before cautiously heading down into the valley. Despite the thickness of the fog, it was still possible to see, just not very far. Xavier guessed he couldn’t see much farther than 300 feet.
They followed James down the north side of the valley. He disappeared into the fog ahead of them. A few moments later the rangers were startled by his cry. They broke into a run until James was in view again.
“What?! This can’t be… this can’t be!” James was pacing and circling around the crater.
Xavier and the others ran over to him. “James, what’s wrong?”
“This isn’t how I left this…” He gestured all around. “There was tape. I marked off the whole site, between these trees, and those trees there. I went all the way around. …now it’s all gone.”
The others looked at each other, unsure what to say.
Xavier sighed and tried not to sound accusatory. “Are you sure that you marked it off? You look like you haven’t slept in days, maybe you forgot?”
Hutchinson shot him an angry glare, and then quickly walked to one of the trees that he had used as an anchor. He picked up a small piece of crime scene tape that was still stuck to a branch. He flapped it angrily in the air. “Does this look like I forgot?”
“Okay, okay…” Xavier said, soothingly, making a placating motion with his hands. “Try to calm down, okay?” He nodded. “I believe you. Someone removed the tape.” He looked around the valley. “Where’s the body? I don’t see the body.”
James felt the pit of his stomach knot up. He suppressed the urge to vomit. He pulled out a small LED lantern and tied a rope to the handle. He stood away from the edge and lowered it down the hole, slowly, until it touched the bottom.
The other rangers gathered around and peered over the precipice. “James, there’s nothing down there. Just rocks and fog,” Xavier said.
James was shaking his head frantically. “No… no! I watched him fall. I saw it.” He looked Xavier in the eyes. “I saw his broken body on the floor of that pit. He is dead.”
Xavier grabbed his shoulder and shook him gently. “Who, James? Who is dead?”
James sighed and closed his eyes. “Tarbell, he’s dead.”
The others all looked at each other with wide eyes. One of the investigations techs chuckled.
“Edgar? Edgar Tarbell? That’s who you saw die?” Xavier asked in disbelief.
James nodded looking at the others with suspicion. “Yes, Edgar. He fell last night, landed on his back. He’s dead.”
Xavier shook his head. “That’s not possible, James.”
“Are you doubting me?!” James screamed, straightening up, his eyes wide.
Stevenson sighed. “James, we passed Edgar on the road on our way to the cabin this morning. He was driving back out toward Memphis and waved as we went by.”
James was dizzy. He fell to his knees as the enormity of this came crashing down on him. “He’s alive?”
“Does he have a twin?” Xavier asked, half-jokingly.
“No,” James said.
“Then he’s alive, I saw him myself. He looked fine.” Xavier looked at James with worry. His demeanor changed. “James, you need a break. You need some rest. You look like hell. I know you had your problems before, and I hate to ask, but have you been drinking?”
James stared with wide eyed shock. “How can you ask that? No! I haven’t been drinking. I kicked that habit. I’ve been clean ever since…” He sighed as his memory reminded him of painful events. “Well, it’s been a long time. Edgar fought with me over this stupid hole, I wanted to quarantine it and he fought me and then he fell in and died.” He backed away from Xavier. “I’m not crazy, I know what happened!”
Stevenson made a motion to the other team members. They handed James his service pistol back, unloaded.
“Go home, James. Get some rest. Find someone to talk to,” Xavier said.
“But, Edgar…”
Stevenson cut him off with a glare. “This is not a request, Hutchinson. Go home. We’ll investigate here and take a look around.”
James stood there for a moment staring in disbelief, unsure of what to do.
Stevenson stared right back and pointed back towards the cars. “Go.”
James was fuming. He turned and stormed off, back towards the cars. He muttered to himself the whole way. Slamming the door, he started his car, backed up and peeled out along the road, spraying dirt and pebbles everywhere. He drove southwest, away from the crash site.
He passed a saw mill at the south end of the canyon, and then followed the road back around north, up the other side until it turned into Snow Creek. He slammed the car in park just off the road and jumped out, still cursing under his breath. He grabbed his binoculars from the car and sprinted back towards the canyon. It was a little less than half a mile until he was back, looking down into the valley from the other side.
Jame
s crouched behind a large rock on the top of the canyon and tried to use the binoculars to peer down into the valley, but the fog obscured his view. A thought occurred to him. He got up, ran around to the edge of the outcropping and laid flat against the rock. He put his binoculars on a wide view and scanned the opposing hillside. Several people were walking unnaturally up the side of the valley on the far side.
At this distance James couldn’t tell who they were. All he could tell was that they were not the Rangers that he just left behind. The people on the far side reached the top. James tracked them as they went directly to the Ranger’s car, got in and sped away.
A loud snap of twig and the falling of rocks nearby on the cliff face below him startled James. He jumped up and glanced around. He didn’t see anyone, but he knew that someone was coming up the hillside. He didn’t know why, but he was terrified of whoever it was. James turned and sprinted the half-mile back to his car, driving away as fast as he could back toward town.
As soon as James got onto the main highway he made a phone call. “Hello, Sheriff Long? This is Ranger Hutchinson with the Forest Service. I need your help with something.”
“What might that be?” A middle-aged southern voice replied through the speaker.
“I need you to send a patrol in to the Holly Springs Forest and monitor a situation for me,” James explained.
There was a moment of silence on the line. “Run that by me again, son,” the Sheriff said in his thick southern twang.
James spoke a little slower. “I need you to send a patrol to the Holly Springs Forest.”
“That’s why there are Rangers, you should know this,” the Sheriff retorted.
“Yes,” James sighed. “I know that, I am a Ranger. I told you that already.”
“Surely the Forest Supervisor is the one you want to talk to,” Sheriff Long suggested.
“Yes, I would, but he’s acting …strangely. He won’t send more personnel.”
Sheriff Long scoffed. “Son, if he won’t send more personnel, why in the Sam Hell should I send a patrol?”
