Danielle Kidnapped: A Novel of Survival in the Coming Ice Age

by John Silveira

  Hank beamed because he could see Raymond was upset. He was still sore from Raymond calling him an idiot when he’d gone to the Brady compound.

  “I don’t think it’s morning anymore,” Abby corrected him.

  Raymond wasn’t concerned with the hour of the day. “What are you doing here?” he demanded.

  “We said we’d send four, and there are four of us,” she said as if that was all that mattered.

  “We need four men,” Raymond said. “You told Louis that Steven’s brother, Vince, was coming.”

  “You got four of us. Vincent couldn’t make it,” Abby snapped back, “And my nephew, Hank, is worth two or more of any of you, so there’s yer four men.”

  Raymond got his walkie-talkie out and snapped it on.

  “Base,” he said into it, “This the field.”

  “You gotta talk to daddy,” Hank chided.

  Raymond ignored him.

  “Base,” he repeated, and all that came back was static.

  Finally, Goodman’s voice came over the walkie-talkie. “What’s up?”

  “I’ve gotta talk with Louis,” Raymond said.

  “What about?”

  “Just get ’im!” Raymond shouted.

  “I’ll see if I can find him. But he’s not going to be happy hearing you’re calling and breaking radio silence, ’less someone’s dead.”

  “Just get ’im!” Raymond repeated.

  Abby said, “Look here, Billy, it was my people and my grandsons what got killed out there. So I’m here to make sure justice is done.”

  Hank guffawed. He wasn’t going to disguise his pleasure at Raymond’s annoyance.

  It was several minutes before LaCroix’s voice finally came on and Raymond walked away from the group.

  He explained Abby’s presence.

  “Abby’s there?” LaCroix asked incredulously.

  “Yeah. So, what now?” Raymond asked. “We’re a man short.”

  “I’m no happier with this than you are.” LaCroix replied. But after a brief pause he said, “You’re just going to have to deal with it.”

  Raymond let out a long sigh. “Okay, I just wanted you to know she’s here and give you the heads-up that we’re a man short.”

  “Do your best.”

  “I will,” Raymond replied resignedly.

  When he returned to the group he said, “Let’s get this dog and pony show moving.”

  “What d’ya mommy say?” Hank asked.

  “Fuck you, asshole,” Raymond exploded.

  Hank advanced toward him and Raymond was about to get into a fight he was bound to lose when Abby yelled, “Hank, stop!

  “That’s enough,” she said when the two men stopped just inches apart with Hank towering over Raymond. “We’re not here to fight each other; we’re here to get the man who put my Sweetie in the ground. Do you both understand?

  “Do you?” she yelled when neither man answered.

  Raymond sensed answering her question was allowing her control, so he didn’t. “Let’s get moving,” he said, trying to regain control of the group. “We’re going to head east. There aren’t that many people living out there, anymore, but we’ll look for tracks and, if we meet up with anyone, we’ll see who knows what about him.”

  “I’m not sure that’s the best way to go…” Abby started.

  “Then you go look for him somewhere else,” Raymond snapped. “Let’s move. Jim, I want you to take point,” he said, meaning Jim De Angelis was to lead. “Brian, you fall back.”

  De Angelis started to lead at the direction of Billy Raymond with Raymond himself close behind. Then Fred Mayfield and the Bradys fell in. Finally, there was Brian Peterson, bringing up the rear with his sniper rifle.

  Raymond tried to keep a pace that would tire Hank, but the big man kept up despite the toboggan he was dragging and Abby endured the rough ride so as to show the men from the LaCroix ranch that Hank was, indeed, worth two or more of any of them.

  After an hour, when it became clear he was only wearing out the other men, Raymond slowed the group down; Hank wasn’t going to tire. So they settled into a measured and steady pace that took them inland.

  Around 6:00 p.m. Raymond told De Angelis to stop. “We’ll make camp here,” he announced.

  The other men from the LaCroix ranch, as well as Jerry Brady and Steven Ingram, were glad to stop.

  But Hank directed a barb at Raymond and asked, “What’s a matter? Too tired to go on?”

  Raymond ignored him, but even Abby was glad to be getting off the toboggan.

  They put up tents and Raymond directed the men to build a fire to cook supper and keep warm.

  “Keep it small,” he warned. “We don’t want to be alerting anyone in the area.”

  But Hank just grinned and built his own fire. He stacked wood until it was a bonfire that probably could have been seen clear to the California border. Raymond was at wit’s end with dealing with him. He turned away and hoped tomorrow might bring a new day.

  After they ate, De Angelis and Raymond retired to one tent, Peterson and Mayfield to another. Those from the Brady ranch had brought one big tent on the toboggan and they slept in it together.

  As they lay in the dark De Angelis apologized for his wife’s outburst that morning. It wasn’t just an apology to Raymond, it was an apology to the world.

  “It’s okay,” Raymond said. “She’s got every right to be scared.”

  “I’m glad Louis was so good to her. I mean, he handled it well.”

  “Yeah,” Raymond said. “He’s a good guy.”

  “I really like him,” De Angelis responded.

  From the Brady’s tent, they could hear Hank’s loud voice. Raymond was sure Hank was loud just to annoy him—and he was right. But he hoped Hank would shut up soon so he could sleep, and he also hoped that there was no one else out there that might hear him and know where they were.

  Gradually, the voices in the three tents got quieter as, one by one, they fell asleep.

  Δ Δ Δ

  Meanwhile, back at the LaCroix compound, Louis LaCroix went to the De Angelis trailer. At the beginning of his visit, he spoke angrily as he explained to her how the questions she had asked in the meeting could have upset the morale of the compound. She admitted he was right and began to cry again. With that, he lowered his voice and changed his tone. He explained to her why they had to go after Zachary Amaral and how important she and her husband were to the community. He asked her not to question him ever again and he reached out his arms and she stepped into them and cried. He held her for several minutes.

  And while Jim De Angelis was out in the field looking for Zachary Amaral, or whoever it was who had killed the men from the LaCroix and Brady ranches, Louis LaCroix got in Jim De Angelis’s bed and spent the night with his wife.

  Chapter 22

  September 1

  In the morning, Zach set up his canning operation again.

  Danielle stood by with Whoops in her arms and watched curiously. She wanted to see the steps he went through.

  “You do a lot of this canning stuff, don’t you,” she stated.

  “Not really. I don’t usually have much to can except after I’ve harvested my garden. Getting the deer and the bear were purely serendipitous, and you gotta make hay while the sun shines.” He paused for a second. “There’s an adage that’s going to disappear.”

  “What’s the word mean?” she asked.

  He thought about what he’d said. “Which one? Serendipitous or adage?”

  “The first one; I know what an adage is.”

  “It means to stumble across something good when you’re not really looking for it.”

  “Like you finding the bear, then the deer?” she asked.

  He nodded.

  “Serendipitous…I like that word,” she said, rolling it on her tongue with a smile.

  “Serendipitous is the adjective, it describes the event; serendipity is the noun, the event itself.”

  He could al
most feel her filing the word away in her mind. He liked not only that she was smart, but that she was curious and wasn’t afraid to ask questions.

  “It’s been weeks since I last canned,” he said returning to their original discussion, “and months since I’ve canned any meat. So, while I’ve got it, I’ve got to take advantage of it.”

  “Can I help again?” she asked.

  “I was hoping you would.”

  She put her sister on the floor and started doing what he instructed her to do.

  He’d brought in a hindquarter from the deer and showed her how to cook the meat, first, then pack the venison into quart jars with some salt, then fill the empty spaces with some of the stock he’d made the day before from the bear’s bones. Then he put the jars in the pressure canner.

  In a large pot he started making some stew and, again, explained to her what he was doing each step along the way.

  Danielle helped herself to little scraps of cooked meat now and then with no complaints from him.

  There was a lot of physical contact in the small space in which they worked; his arm against hers, her hip bumping into his. He didn’t push for it, but he liked it. He didn’t know how aware she might be of it. She seemed oblivious.

  All the while, Stupid sat patiently and watched them.

  Danielle stopped for a second, then dropped a small piece of cooked venison on the floor in front of the dog. He ate it quickly, then sat poised for more.

  “Don’t put any more stuff down for him.” Zach said.

  “Why?”

  “Just don’t.”

  “He’s hungry.”

  “I know.”

  “Then why can’t I feed him?”

  It was a simple question. She wasn’t trying to provoke him. They seemed to be getting along very well, as a team. But he wouldn’t answer. She became suspicious.

  “Why can’t I feed him?” she repeated.

  “It’ll be wasted,” he finally said.

  She stared at him but he wouldn’t look at her. He just kept cutting the meat. Accidentally, he cut his finger. He rinsed and dried it then put a Band-Aid on it. He’d been pretty deft up to now with his knives, so she thought it was odd that he’d cut himself. He went back to cutting the meat.

  “What do you mean, ‘it’ll be wasted,’” she asked.

  He stopped, stared at the wall before him, and said, “It’ll make him harder to clean out.”

  She couldn’t believe what she was hearing and she was suddenly angry. “I’m feeding him anyway.”

  “Stop!” he ordered.

  “You’re not going to kill him!” she yelled.

  He stopped cutting. “I’ll do anything I want!” he yelled back.

  “Why?”

  “Because I can’t afford to feed him through the winter. Every bite of food I feed that dog is going to be a bite out of my mouth!” he yelled and cut another finger.

  “I’ll take him with me,” she said.

  “How are you going to feed him? How are you going to get a ride. He’ll starve to death or someone will take him and…and…”

  “Kill him just like you’re going to do!” she screamed.

  “What do you care? You’re not going to be here.”

  The commotion started Whoops crying and sent Stupid skulking across the room. He lay down near Danielle’s chair and Whoops.

  Danielle spun, went back to her chair, picked up her sister, and plunked herself down. She pulled her knees up and stared into space.

  Whoops kept crying.

  “Shut up!” she screamed. For just a second Whoops stopped and stared wide-eyed at her sister, then she cried even louder.

  “Oh, my God, I’m sorry, Whoopsie.” She hugged her and started rocking, but the baby wouldn’t stop.

  “Sissy didn’t mean to yell at you,” she said softly.

  “Come on,” Zach said slamming things down on the counter. He headed for the door with dog in tow. In his right hand he had his large, sharp carving knife. He wouldn’t look at Danielle as he passed her.

  He opened the door and yelled, “Out!” and the dog, not used to Zach yelling at him, cautiously went out ahead of him. Zach followed and slammed the door as hard as he could behind himself.

  As soon as he was gone, Danielle started crying and Whoops cried louder, again.

  “I can’t believe I was getting to trust him,” she said to Whoops. “I was even getting to like him. Now I see what kind of jerk he is. I hate him. I hate this whole damned world.”

  Δ Δ Δ

  Once outside, Stupid sniffed around in the snow. Zach stood and watched him going from bush to bush looking for new smells.

  He lifted a leg and peed.

  Good, that would mean his bladder was empty.

  Then he defecated. That was even better.

  “Come on,” Zach said and started walking up to the shed and the dog, as obedient as ever, followed him as he went behind the shed.

  Once there Zach stood and watched the dog sniff around in the snow again.

  Finally, he said, “Come ’ere boy,” and the dog came right to him. It was trusting. It was making this easy.

  In one motion Zach reached down, grabbed Stupid by the scruff of the neck and pulled its head back exposing its throat. He would make this quick and painless so the dog wouldn’t suffer.

  Δ Δ Δ

  Twenty minutes later he came back in. He slammed the door behind himself and startled Whoops and she began crying once more. He wouldn’t look at Danielle as he returned to the stove. He washed his hands and his knife. He was noisy this time as he worked. Twice more he cut himself, swore each time, and had to stop what he was doing so as to clean out the wound and put on a Band-Aid.

  “Good,” she muttered under her breath each time he cut himself.

  But now she had to use the outhouse. She wished she’d gone out, before he’d taken Stupid out.

  She held it as long as she could. But, in the end, nature won out and the pressure in her bladder became too much. With a great deal of reluctance, she finally got up, put on her coat, and went to the door with her sister in her arms. As she went outside, she slammed the door behind herself.

  “Bitch,” Zach mumbled to himself.

  “Asshole,” she said to herself once the door was closed between them.

  She walked up to the shed and the outhouse, but she paused at the door. Her hand reached out, but she couldn’t bring herself to touch the knob.

  “I could have stopped him,” she said to herself.

  She reached for the knob, again. But she knew what she was going to see.

  She turned, went behind the cabin and, holding Whoops, she struggled to get her pants down. None of this was easy with the baby in her arms, but she managed, squatted, and started to pee. But she couldn’t hold the baby, squat, and keep her balance while she was peeing and, when she started to teeter, she did everything she could to protect her sister and…“Ooooh!”…she fell over and sat in her own urine.

  “That son-of-a-bitch,” she said then got up and tried to clean herself off.

  She was cold, she was wet, and she was dirty. But she was done.

  When she came back in the cabin, she slammed the door as hard as she could, and threw herself back in her chair.

  “I want to leave here in the morning. I don’t want to learn to shoot your gun. I don’t want your gun.”

  Without turning around, he said, “It’s up to you,” and he cut himself, again.

  “Shit,” he said.

  “Good!” she screamed out loud.

  In the little time she knew him, Stupid had been such a good dog, she told herself. He’d trusted Zach, trusted her, and liked Whoops. And what had it gotten him? A death sentence. She couldn’t imagine how she could have started liking Zach. He was as bad as the Bradys.

  There was a sound at the door. She looked at it. She looked at Zach, but he was still busy at the stove.

  There went the sound, again.

  He turned to her
and gave her a petulant look as if she should get off her ass and see what it was.

  She carried Whoops to the door and opened it and Stupid came back in and went right to the stove where he maintained his vigil waiting for handouts. Zach fed him a piece of cooked meat.

  She went to the stove and stood staring at Zach. He had five Band-Aids on his left hand now.

  She continued staring but he wouldn’t look at her.

  Finally, he put the knife down. “What?”

  “I thought you were going to kill him.”

  “I changed my mind.”

  “Why?”

  “I can change my mind, can’t I?”

  “Are you going to do it tomorrow?” she demanded.

  He continued cutting the meat and didn’t answer.

  “Well, are you?” she asked.

  “No,” he said softly.

  “The day after?”

  He didn’t like being grilled. “No,” he said with a little anger in his voice.

  “Next week?”

  “No,” he shouted.

  “Are you ever going to do it?”

  “Yes,” he said in his normal voice.

  “When?”

  “On his birthday,” he said sharply.

  “When’s his birthday?” she demanded.

  “I don’t know, he’s a smart dog and he won’t tell me.”

  He cut himself, again.

  “Why don’t you just cut all your fingers off and can those? It’s the only thing you’ve been able to do right all day,” she said.

  He tried not to smile. That would be letting her win. Finally, he did. “I thought we were going to fight fair,” he said.

  She didn’t say anything, because she’d smile if she did.

  “Why don’t you help me?” he asked in a nice voice.

  “Okay,” she said.

  She put Whoops down and washed her hands and Zach took a bunch of cooked scraps and fed them to Stupid.

  After she dried her hands, she reached down and petted Stupid on his head, then scratched him behind his ears.

  “Oh-oh. Gotta wash, again,” she said, and she did.

  “I’m glad you’re conscientious,” he said.