by Mia Frances
"Get some thin fishing line instead. It's stronger. I don't want to go through this more than once."
After a few moments she returned, holding a couple of bottles, a spool of fishing line, scissors, a needle, and gauze bandages. She set everything down on the floor then, opening the smallest bottle, produced three white pills. "Here," she said, handing them to him, "take these. I'll get you some water."
"What are they?" he asked as she walked away.
"Aspirin. They'll help dull the pain," she told him, as she reached for the pitcher and filled a glass.
He stared down at them glumly. "What I wouldn't give for a scotch right now!"
"There's some liquor in the closet," she said, handing him the glass.
"Why didn't you say so before," he grumbled in irritation. "What have you been hiding it away for?" He popped the pills in his mouth and, grabbing the water, gulped them down.
"I wasn't hiding it," she protested. "I just forgot it was there until now."
"Where'd you get it?"
"Some from Freidman's, some from Callahan's. They both liked the sauce." Alex went to the little closet under the stairs and began rummaging around.
Wolf could hear bottles clinking together. "How much do you have?"
"I don't remember, seven or eight bottles maybe."
"Jesus woman, I've been dying for a drink for weeks and you've had it in there all along?"
She looked at him suspiciously, wishing she hadn't said anything. He looked like the hard-drinking type. Quick tempered and surly by nature, feeding him liquor might prove disastrous. It was too late now. Her and her big mouth! She pulled out the bottles one by one, relieved to see that only a little liquid remained in each. There were nine bottles in all: two scotch, one blended whiskey, two bourbons, two vodkas, a rum, and a tequila.
"It isn't much, but I suppose beggars can't be choosers," he said, lifting the bottle of whisky to his lips and draining it dry of the thimbleful of liquid it held. It burned as it went down, but it tasted good. He grabbed for the bottle of scotch and held it up to the light of the fireplace, trying to see how much it contained. Wolf jiggled it, watching as the golden colored liquid splashed against the sides. It held two or three shots. He unscrewed the cap and took a swallow, then passed it to Alex. "Want a snort?"
She shook her head no.
"Suit yourself," he told her as he finished off the contents with relish. "Here, pass me another one," he said, handing her the empty. "Before I let you loose on my leg, I want to make sure I'm feeling no pain."
Alex handed him the bottle. "Do you think I should wake Charles and Justin? I might need them to hold your leg still."
"I'm not gonna give you any trouble. Give me a couple of minutes to let this stuff take effect and then you can get started."
"Are you hungry?" she asked, suddenly remembering that he hadn't eaten since this morning.
"No, I'm past being hungry. What did you guys have to eat?"
"Cattail root and maple bark. I made a soup."
"Well tomorrow's going to be a better day for us culinary-wise. Go take the cover off the sled and feast your eyes on what I got.
"Food?" she asked, excitedly.
"You just go over there and take a look.
She hurried to the toboggan and started undoing the ropes, pulling and tugging until they fell to the floor. She ripped off the tarp, then stood staring down at the contents: several large metal containers, some smaller square tins, bulky cloth sacks, clear plastic bags filled with assorted powders, cardboard boxes large and small, and what looked like two crossbows.
"Don't you know what that is?"
Alex turned to him, her expression blank. She didn't have a clue.
"That, little lady, is flour, beans, rice, and cornmeal. There's also bags of powdered milk, sugar, oatmeal, salt, and the like."
Her mouth dropped open.
"There's a full carton of dehydrated soup mix, another of jerky, some soap, boxes of ammo, and there's plenty more where that came from."
"Where did you get it?"
"About three miles west of here. I stumbled on this survivalist place out of the blue."
"But that's state land."
"I know. Beats the hell outta me how they ever got the stuff they needed to build, furnish, and stock it all the way out there in the first place. There's no road, no trail, no nothing! The only thing I can figure is that they brought the heavy stuff in by snowmobile in the winter and backpacked in the light-weight supplies the rest of the year. Whoever built it was no amateur; he knew what he was doing. It's remote and camouflaged by a wall of closely planted White Pines, 10 trees thick. It's built into a hill; you can't see it 'til you're right on top of it. They went to an awful lot of trouble to keep it hidden. It's made of logs, but there isn't a stump anywhere around it. They downed the trees they used someplace else, and then carried them back to the site. Didn't want anybody to get suspicious and start poking around." He paused to take a swallow from the bottle, then continued. "I think it was meant to be some kind of fallout shelter. The front's wood, but they actually hollowed out some of the hill, making a little cave, using the rock and dirt they excavated to bank the outside walls and cover the roof. Even the exposed side was sandbagged."
"How'd you find it?" she wanted to know.
"I heard gunshots and decided to investigate."
"They were out hunting? That's how you got in?"
"They were dead!"
Alex stared at the sled, feeling uneasy. "How?" She eyed him suspiciously.
"Now don't go looking at me like that, woman. I didn't do it! They were attacked. I found two bodies outside and five inside. They must have ambushed the father and son, a boy maybe 14 or 15, while they were out hunting. With them out of the way, they went after the woman and children inside. Poor bastards never had a chance. They slaughtered them." He drained the bottle before going on. "Looked like they raped the woman and two little girls. They were lying naked with their legs spread. The girls were no more than 10 or 11 years old. Didn't even have breasts or pubic hair yet. They slit the throats of the two little boys. They looked to be only 4 or 5. What kind of fucking animals kill little kids?" he asked, enraged. His hands shaking, he let the bottle slip from his fingers to the floor. "I was about a half-mile away when I heard the shots. There were maybe 20 of them. One or two rounds would go off, then there'd be a pause. It went on like that for about five minutes. I thought maybe some hunters found a deer yard in the deep snow, and were picking them off one at a time. Thought I'd get us some meat too, so I followed the sound. I never figured they were killing people.
I was getting close when I stepped in the trap. At first I figured somebody had set it up for game, you know, like a pit trap. But after I managed to pull my leg out and saw all that barbed wire and the size of the hole, I knew it wasn't meant for any animal, at least none with four legs. I remember going to the VFW and talking to the Vietnam-era vets at the bar. They said the Viet Cong used to do that kind of shit. Put booby-traps all over the jungle. Nobody goes to that kind of trouble unless they're trying to protect something valuable. I was hurting and figured they owed me, so I decided to see what it was they were so hell-bent on keeping! It was rough going with my leg, but I kept thinking I'd stumbled on a gold mine, a cache of supplies hidden in the woods."
"I hadn't gone very far before I found the first two bodies. Both the man and the kid had been shot in the back. Never knew what hit them. There were tracks all around, seemed like they were coming and going from this hilly area a little ways off. That's when I saw the smoke in the distance and realized there must be a camp back there. I followed the tracks, then hid in the trees, and waited a while. I couldn't hear any sounds coming from inside, so I finally went in. It was a bloodbath; they'd massacred them, not a soul left alive," his voice faltered as he recalled the children lying in pools of their own blood. "They'd torn the place apart. Don't know what all they took, but it couldn't have been very much, weapons probably, a
nd whatever food they could carry. I checked around outside and found their footprints. There were six of them. I think the woman wounded at least one. I found a bloodied butcher knife near her body and there were drops of fresh blood in the snow. By the amount of ammo they had stored, they must have had an arsenal in there, could have held off an army, but I guess she didn't know the bastards were there until it was already too late and they were coming through the door. They took the guns off the racks on the walls, but didn't have a sled, so whatever food they got they carried on their backs in packs or in their pockets. The place was jammed to the rafters with supplies, maybe six months worth of rations per person, Coleman fuel, lanterns, grinders to make flour, toilet paper, everything you could imagine. They were planning on being there a good long time. Would have too if it hadn't been for those butchers."
Alex reached for a stool to prop his leg on. She was visibly shaken.
"I got some seeds," he said, changing the subject. "Vegetables mostly, but there are packets of herbs and flowers too. Come spring I'll clear a little piece of land and we can plant them."
She nodded as she set it down in front of him. "Now?"
"Might as well," he said, resting his foot on it. "It isn't going to hurt any less if it's now or five minutes from now." He grabbed one of the bottles and took another swallow as Alex busied herself cleaning the wound with antiseptic. "Jesus that stings! What the hell are you using?"
"Hydrogen peroxide. We don't want it to get infected," she told him as she continued to dab at the wound.
Wolf took another drink and shut his eyes. He was nowhere near drunk yet, not even lightheaded. His leg throbbed, but the pain didn't concern him nearly as much as what he'd seen out there. Those fucking animals could strike anywhere, any time. No one was safe! He'd hoped that the roving bands of thugs and killers would keep to the villages and the camps along the shoreline, but their savagery was spreading. "You know how to shoot a gun?" he asked, opening his eyes.
Alex shook her head. His face was pale, his eyes weary, but there was something in his look, something that scared her. It was fear!
"Well, I think it's time you learned!"
She tried to thread the needle, but her hands began to shake. "Do you think they'll come here?"
"Don't worry. Come tomorrow those bastards won't be hurting anybody anymore!"
"What are you going to do?" she asked, rattled by his words.
"I'm going to kill them."
The breath caught in her lungs, "How? You don' t even know where they are."
"Maybe so. But I know where they'll be tomorrow. I'll find them."
Alex was shaking her head vehemently. "No! You're hurt and you're weak. There's no way in hell I'm going to let you go after them! It's too dangerous!"
He sat up in the chair and gave her a reproachful look, "Excuse me?" he snapped. "Don't go telling me what I can and can't do. I'll do what I have to do and that's that!"
She chewed her bottom lip, looking apprehensive and close to tears.
"Come on, get the needle threaded," he ordered. "And stop worrying. Nothing's going to happen to me."
She didn't look convinced.
Alex focused her attention on his leg and, wincing, poked the needle through the skin. She quickly lifted her eyes to look at him. His knuckles were white as they gripped the arms of the rocker and his teeth were clenched together in a grimace of pain, but he didn't complain or cry out. She pierced the other side and drew the line through, then, pulling it taut, closed the gap and tied a knot. Again she glanced up. He nodded for her to go on. She repeated the process, leaving a small space between the stitches. Alex felt faint, her stomach was churning, but she continued sewing up the wound.
He didn't make a sound, all the while she worked. He never flinched or moved the leg. She paused every now and again so he could take a drink from the bottle, hoping it would numb the pain and ease the ordeal.
When the last stitch was in place, she leaned back, examining her handiwork. "Are you all right?" she asked.
He nodded. "You did real good, but you look a little green. Want a drink?"
"No thanks," she declined the offer, reaching for the antiseptic.
"Oh shit, not that again!" he protested. "That stuff stings worse than the stitches."
"I'm just trying to make sure the wounds are clean before I bandage them. I don't want them to get infected!"
"I'm beginning to think you like working me over," he said, looking warily at the bottle.
Alex ignored him, methodically wiping the stinging solution over each cut until she was satisfied that they wouldn't infect.
He watched as she began to wrap the leg. Her hands were gentle.
"Wolf, you won't be able to walk on this, not for a few days at least. You'll tear the stitches.
"You just bandage me up; I'll worry about the rest.
She glared at him, tightening the cloth and making him wince. "You've got to be the stubbornest man I've ever met!"
"Don't give me that look. I know what I'm doing."
"I know what you're doing too! You're trying to get yourself killed!"
"Aren't you're full of surprises today? First you haul your little ass out in the snow to rescue me and now you're bitching because you think I might get hurt. Keep it up and I might start thinking you actually give a shit whether I live or die. Here all along I thought you hated my guts and now…well hell, I must be doing something right!"
She didn't respond.
"I know you think I'm an asshole. Lord knows I'm not the easiest man to live with. But I do have a couple of saving graces…don't I? I'm worth having around. I keep you fed, and, hell woman, I certainly keep you entertained at night." Laughing, he grabbed her hand and put it on the blanket over his flaccid penis.
Alex turned beet red and quickly snatched her hand back, her gaze dropping to the floor.
He reached out and gently touched her shoulder. This was no laughing matter to her, she was afraid for him. "Look, the camp is only three miles away. I can make it."
"And what happens to you once you're there?" she argued, lifting her eyes to meet his. "They'll be back for the rest of the food. They've already killed to get what they want. One more life means nothing to them. They'll murder you just like they did the others. We can do without the food. There's plenty here," she pleaded
"You don't understand do you? I'm not doing it for the food."
"What then?"
"It's for us and for the other poor bastards out there trying to stay alive. These people are animals. They kill for the pleasure of it. They deserve to die!"
"So you set yourself up as judge, jury, and executioner?"
"Damn right! Someone's got to stop them!"
"Why you?"
"Because I'm the law! I'm a deputy sheriff. It's my job!"
It was like talking to a wall. He wouldn't listen. His mind was already made up. "Fine, if you're so damned determined to go, I'll come with you!"
"Like hell you will!" he roared. "You'll do no such thing."
"Watch me," she said defiantly.
"You move from this cabin tomorrow and I swear I'll strip every bit of skin off your sassy butt. You stay put! This doesn't concern you!"
"It most certainly does! You may be an ornery, miserable, sorry excuse for a man sometimes, but you're all we've got. We don't want to lose you!"
"I'm touched," he said, sarcastically. "You don't need to worry about your meal ticket Alex. I have every intention of coming back."
"I'm going!"
"Over my dead body! End of conversation! I don't want to hear another word about it," he warned.
Alex gritted her teeth, eyes flashing anger and frustration. If he thought he could bully her into submission, he was sadly mistaken.
"You better wipe that pissy look off your face, or I might just take offense," Wolf said, glowering. "And trust me. That won't bode well for you or your ass. You just bandage up my leg and forget about showing me those balls you think you
've got. I realize you're concerned, but don't go giving me orders little girl. Comprende? There's no way I'll put up with that. Not in my house!"
She wanted to rip the stool out from under his leg and bring it crashing down on his arrogant head. His house? Was he fucking serious? The audacity of the man! Let him get himself killed if he was so damned determined to die! They'd be better off without him! Who needed him anyway? Her hands were rough as they wrapped the last of the gauze bandage around his leg, binding up the wounds. As soon as she finished, she rose to her feet and began putting things away, never uttering a word to him.
She heard the rocker creak and turned to look as he struggled to stand. Alex was hoping that the leg would give out, but the son of a bitch was strong as an ox and determined as hell. It would take more than a maimed leg to bring him down. Though nothing would have pleased her more than to see his surly, arrogant ass hit the floor right now, she kept thinking about the stitches. How easily they'd break. Crap! She reluctantly rushed to his aid and helped him to bed.
After banking the fires and undressing, she crawled in beside him. He was fast asleep, yet he instinctively reached out for her, his hand gently resting on her belly. Irritated with his mulishness and macho bravado, Alex was going to push it away, but didn't. She closed her eyes, hoping morning would never come.
Chapter 20
Alex paced the floor as the older children sat at the table, taking turns reading aloud, the younger ones listening with rapt attention. For months she'd prayed to see the sun rising in a clear sky, but when it climbed high above the eastern hills this morning, Alex took no joy in it. She'd watched the gray clouds slowly dissipate, waiting for the day when the sun would return in all its brilliance. That day had arrived, but suddenly it seemed more like a catastrophe than a cause for celebration.
Wolf had gotten up at dawn, eaten some oatmeal, and then left; walking out the door and disappearing into the blinding glare of the sun reflecting off the snow. She'd watched him go, a dark spot moving slowly toward the horizon. His leg was stiff and swollen, causing him to limp. How he managed to walk on it was beyond her, but though she'd tried, begging and pleading, she couldn't dissuade him from going. He was one stubborn prick!
