The Lumberjack

by Erik Martin Willén

  For the first time, Christina noticed that the girl was very young—too young for Robert.

  “No, wait, come on in. Welcome, Patty, I’m so sorry for what I said.” Christina looked around desperately, but received only blank stares from her friends. Then she looked at Peter and Kevin, and something mischievous came over here. “I apologize for behaving like a jerk, Pat, but you see, my two much older brothers here ruined my morning.” She turned and faced Pat, pointing over her shoulder.

  “Your brothers? They look a lot older than you.”

  “Yep, they’re ancient.”

  She nodded for Tammy to follow, and then she took Robert’s sister with her upstairs. After a while, they returned, and Pat was shining like the sun.

  “Robert, Robert! Look what Christina gave me, and she signed it. This T-shirt—she wore it in one of her movies, look!” Robert’s little sister’s joy was contagious, and soon everyone’s mood had improved.

  “Thank you, Christina, you didn’t have to,” Robert said quietly.

  Christina waved away Robert’s comment. She walked up to him seductively, ignoring everyone else in the room. Tammy was laughing at something the huge Russian said, Peter was on his phone, and Kevin was busy cleaning the kitchen.

  “Sorry for being an ass, I…”

  “Will you and Tammy be coming to the fall fiesta today?”

  “Eh, yes, that’s why she came to visit.”

  “Great, then I’ll see you guys there. Now, if you’ll excuse me, Boris and I have a few trees to take care of for you.”

  “What about your sister?”

  “Don’t worry, she’ll help us.”

  “Dressed like that?”

  “Uh, yes.”

  “Why don’t you leave her here with Tammy and I?”

  He looked at his sister, who stared back hopefully.

  “Sure, why not? we’ll be back in an hour. You got a couple of dangerous trees near where you like to go jogging, so we wanted to take care of them today.”

  “You do that, Robert, while Tammy and I give your sister our best advice on how to deal with a big brother.”

  “Doubt she needs a lesson for that,” he said jokingly, and to Christina’s surprise, Robert actually smiled.

  Peter laid down his phone and looked at his partner, clearly troubled. Kevin put a towel to the side and walked up to him. “Problems?”

  Peter nodded, then shrugged. “I don’t know. Could be.”

  “And I was hoping we’d be back surfing on the West Coast tomorrow.”

  “Well, it was Frank Hancock who just called—and it seems that there are some more people missing.”

  “What does that have to do with us? We’ve finished with the new security installation here, and we both agreed to leave after the party.”

  “He just wanted for us to know, that’s all.”

  “This place sure lives up from its name. Who’s missing now?”

  “Some gold-miners—a father and his two kids. Truck’s still at the mine, but all three are missing.”

  Kevin thought for a moment, “Might have gone camping, who knows? Don’t give me that look. We’re not PIs or superheroes. we’re leaving once we finish up here and have gone to that fall thing this afternoon. We’re done here; time to move on.”

  “Yeah, but I have that gut feeling that everything isn’t on the up-and-up.”

  “Oh no, not the gut feeling,” Kevin begged, looking alarmed. “Come on, please, not now!”

  “Don’t worry. Let’s stick to the plans. Anyway, Frank is heading up the mountains to the mine with one of his dogs, helping some other K-9 officers from another county. Seems like the local police are running out of people.”

  * * * * *

  HIS GRANDFATHER and father had been right. Ted Hagglund stared at the walls covered with newspaper clippings, diagrams, timelines, and pictures. Some he recognized. He didn’t, however, notice the headings or headlines like most cases under an investigation normally had. There wasn’t much to go on, but there were a few things that a good investigator might sort out. He was disturbed by how much information the witness had been able to accumulate throughout the years.

  He smirked when he read about the skunk ape, and just shook his head. And he had thought his father and grandfather had exaggerated the need for getting rid of any witnesses, especially when they did a purge. He wondered which of the Clan the skunk ape was.

  He remembered his first purge to save Mother Earth well, though he’d been only a few years older than the witness. The villagers had sold out, and eventually, huge facilities had been built and ruined the land; but they had sure showed them. He’d been hiding by the dry riverbed, and had watched the bear and wolf wipe out the two-leggeds. He had been afraid, but later he had been raised by his father very strictly, and now he didn’t know the meaning of the word fear.

  He walked upstairs into the kitchen; it was time to end a fifty-year hunt. He tossed a match into the basement, and the gasoline he’d saturated the place with instantly caught fire. He left the basement door open, along with a few windows. The windows in the basement he had left shut.

  He left a note on Carlos’s wife’s car; it was made to look very amateurish, with letters cut out of different newspapers and magazines, replete with threats and racial slurs about the “spic police” being too incompetent to find missing people. He had left fingerprints from his buddy Anthony’s father. Nero never found Eddie’s parents. Finding Anthony’s father and then taking fingerprints while he was passed out by one of his illegal moonshining stills up in the mountains had been easy, not much of a challenge at all. The fool shouldn’t have been allowed to breed. Nero had taken care of that before he had started the run that eventually led him to the gold mine.

  The authorities would find the note, and figure out in a day or two who it was supposedly from. The police would visit the moonshiner’s home, and then he could deal with the primary target once and for all in the deep, dark forest up in the mountains, where he felt safe.

  Nero left the da Silva house burning and walked into the forest at the back of the house, never looking back. In the distance, through the trees, he could see the commotion from the ridiculous fall fiesta; thousands of people had already started to gather at the fairgrounds. He petted his left breast pocket carefully, checking the small glass vial with the stink that would distract any dog. He had changed the ingredients after the mistake with the full-blooded Rhodesian Ridgeback, a breed that had been bred to fight lions.

  It was time for him to become what he was, and for that he needed his second skin. He moved fast and stealthy through the forest.

  * * * * *

  IT WAS the first day of the fall festival, and a beautiful warm sunny day it was, with only a few clouds in the sky—though there was a cloud formation gathering on the horizon in the far distance. More than one person prayed that the clouds would remain where they were. Thousands of people would soon enjoy themselves, and more were showing up by the minute. The fair normally had lasted just two days in the past, but two years back it had doubled in length. The first day was when vendors could start erecting their stands and tents; the big crowds would be there on the following days.

  The fresh air intermingled with the various aromas of food being prepared, providing a succulent scent that soon had stomachs growling. Many BBQ pits with as many different meats, recipes, styles, and sauces were already in action. Onion blooms were deep-fried, hotdogs boiled and grilled, and tons of hamburgers were prepared. The food courts were crowded with people creating cotton candy, popcorn, kettle corn, funnel cakes, and all types of other sugar bombs, available for the kids’ joy and the parents’ horror. There were oceans of soda and ice tea brewing. Beer and wine was available for the adults, with stronger stuff for the real grown-ups.

  The fair was huge, drawing in people from several counties, and hundreds of tents and pavilions with equally as many different vendors filled the valley. Some tents were large, though most were quite smal
l. A funfair for kids took up one corner of the field, with many different rides, each looking more frightening than the next. Then there were the ordinary adult rides: the roller-coasters, speedways, helicopter cars, carousels, Ferris wheel, even a haunted house. There were bouncy inflatable castles for the kiddies, of course, and exotic animals in cages and behind fences attracted many visitors.

  The most exotic and dangerous animal of all was stalking among them, though, and they had no clue.

  Different types of music played across the fairgrounds, pouring from many speakers, from calliope to through country and classic rock ‘n roll. In the center of the fairgrounds was an enormous red barn, and it was there that people really began to gather. Several mechanical bull rides had been erected for those willing to test their skills. Bleachers for a rodeo, the evening’s main event, were also being erected.

  There would be many different competitions throughout the day, for both men and women, most lumberjack-themed: ax-throwing, bow-saw and cross-cut sawing, the underhand standing chop event, pole climbing and cutting, precision cutting with ax, saw, and chainsaw, and so forth. For the non-lumberjacks, there would also be an archery competition and, of course, a pie-eating contest.

  Live bands took turns playing on a stage erected on one side of the field. Like a natural-made border, a thin strand of forest separated the huge field in the valley from a smaller field, and on that field were hundreds of tents and campers with trailers and caravans, some looking dirt-poor quality while others looked like they belonged to rock stars. On a third grassy field, the local police had created a temporary parking lot, and many cars had started to fill it up.

  Carlos looked up at a helicopter flying overhead, a bit too low, before it headed up towards the mountain range. He had dark bags under his eyes, and gave his wife a tired but friendly smile. Their two daughters, ten-year-old Patricia and Paulina, twelve, chirped like birds about what ride they should go on first. They stared at their parents pleadingly and then Anna-Maria, Carlos’s wife, nodded, and the two kids took off laughing. Soon, they met up with several other kids, and all of them headed toward one of the more frightening rides while their parents looked on in horror.

  “Never mind them, hon, I’m sure we’ll see them again once they run out of tickets,” Carlos drawled.

  “I know, it’s just that I never get used to those rides. Makes me sick just looking at them.”

  “You and me both, darlin’.”

  “I’m so happy you can spend some time with us today.”

  “We got help from the neighboring counties, so I don’t have to be everywhere today.”

  “Any news on the missing people?”

  “No, nothing yet. We’re following up with the kids’ mother; apparently, she and her husband are going through a messy divorce. The kids shouldn’t have been hanging around at a gold mine, if you ask me.”

  “Did they live there with their father?”

  “Actually, they had a few days off from school, and they were visiting him. I’m not sure, but from what I gather, the mother might have an issue with alcohol.”

  “I hope they’re fine. How long can you be with us today?”

  “All day, I hope.”

  She kissed him gently on his cheek, and they walked hand-in-hand through the masses, every now and then exchanging greetings with friends or colleagues. In the background came the sound of fire engines in the far distance, and Carlos frowned; just as expected, his phone eventually rang. “Yes Whitney, what you got?” he answered, a bit irritated.

  As he listened, his face turned pale.

  You’re sure…? But you did find them…? Goddammit. Okay, okay, yeah, get CSI…sure, let me talk to Frank. Good work.”

  “Hi, it’s Frank.”

  “Carlos here. Thank you for your help. There is one thing I must ask…was there anything unusual?”

  “Yes. All the dogs acted the same as they did when they chased the bear.”

  “Meaning that Nugget got a bit upset?”

  “You bet, but this time I put him back in my truck. He’s still healing.”

  “Please put Whitney back on… You smelled it too? You’re sure? Okay. No, that’s all for now, keep up the good work.”

  Carlos felt a surging sensation through his mind and body, an inchoate, unexplainable sense of fear, anger, and helplessness…goosebumps and nausea followed. He was afraid. He had nothing, no evidence, and still he knew he was right: the Beast was back in his life.

  His wife looked at him, concerned. “Does that call mean you have to go back to work?”

  “No, hon, I promised, remember?”

  Another call came in, and he rolled his eyes. Before he answered, he said, “Sorry, love, this one is from Nolan. I have to take it.”

  Anna-Maria gave him a smile and held his arm hard, looking up at her love of her life. She felt Carlos tense up, and immediately knew something was very wrong. He gave her a concerned expression, and before he had to make an excuse, she saved him.

  “Go and do what you have to, but hurry back if you can.”

  He gave her a smile and walked away, but suddenly he stopped. He turned around, walked back, and in front of God and everyone he grabbed her arms hard and pushed them to her body, and then he kissed her like he never had before.

  “Stay here, baby, and take care of our girls. I’ve gotta go.”

  She nodded, and with moist eyes she looked into his and saw something infinitely sad. “I’ll be back as soon as I can,” he vowed before turning away.

  As she watched her husband move through the crowd, a cold breeze swept through the valley, and suddenly she had goosebumps; but somehow, she knew it wasn’t from the weather.

  Carlos hurried through the crowd, and when he saw the long line of cars heading to the parking area, he decided to take a shortcut through the forest. The smoke in the distance urged him on. He called one of his deputies, Bard, and ordered him to meet him on the other side of the forest on the road leading towards the outskirts where his home was. He looked towards his home and saw more black smoke. Carlos hurried his steps; and when he realized not only that he and his family might lose their home with all their memories and possessions, but that everything he had on his fifty-year-old case was in the basement, he started sprinting, leaping over a couple rolling around in the grass. Further ahead sat a typical Rasta-hippie guy, who from the smell had been or was smoking weed; someone next to him seemed sick, puking his or her guts out. He increased his speed as he passed them, and the closer he came to his home, the thicker the smoke became.

  Firetrucks continued to wail their way onto his street. He reached a long, narrow ridge, but before he could climb it, he had to turn down a small gorge. He tripped when he reached the top edge of the ridge and pulled himself up with the help of a large root sticking out of an enormous tree. He rounded the large tree and ran into someone.

  There was a crackling tinkle of glass breaking.

  * * * * *

  TED HAGGLUND walked away from the witness’ house in deep thought; and when he heard the sound of the fire engines, he took a fast glance behind him, then hurried his steps. Once he had passed a few large trees ahead and was down in the small gully beyond, he would be clear and safe. His sharp senses picked out the sounds of the many people further ahead towards the fairground, but the wailing of the sirens was drowning out some sounds. He stopped and looked around for anyone who might see him, but he saw no one. However, he didn’t like the fact that his hearing was disrupted, and sped up; and suddenly he bumped into someone very hard.

  He was baffled for a moment, and then, when he looked at the person he just had run into, it all made sense. He was still surprised and taken a bit off guard when he made eye contact with his primary prey. He was so stunned that, too late, he realized that they had maintained eye contact too long.

  Worse, he felt something wet in his left breast pocket, and the rising scent betrayed him.

  * * * * *

  CARLOS IMMEDIATELY st
opped, and he was just about to apologize when he noticed the stare of the person he had bumped into. At first he thought nothing of it, and was going to move on…but then he froze. The stink that had triggered his memory weeks before suddenly filled the gully, and as he looked into the eyes of the stranger again, his own eyes widened in horror and surprise. He saw the surprised expression on the stranger, and then Carlos’s thirty years of experience as a law enforcement officer took over; he knew full well when he encountered a suspect. The smell told Carlos everything he needed to know, and he went for his gun, but fumbled; and when he looked up, the stranger was gone.

  There were sudden sharp blows to his abdomen and then to his face, followed by a third devastating blow to his shoulder, accompanied by the sound of breaking bone. Another blow, and he fell back onto a tree, dazed and confused. Everything was a blur, and the whole time, the pulsing pain from his shoulder jolted through his spine. Carlos felt a painful pressure on his shoulder. He dropped his gun, and the pain of his broken bones was so excruciating that he had to kneel. He lost his footing and fell, hanging onto the root on the large tree. Flashing lights and the pain of thousands of needles shot through his face and body; he didn’t think clearly, but he did think. He quickly grabbed his smartphone from his pocket and hit a button. As he started to lose consciousness, he could see a pair of typical lumberjack hard-toed boots. He jammed his phone between two branches, and then rolled back down the small slope.

  * * * * *

  NERO COULDN’T believe his luck—or un-luck, maybe. Everything had happened so fast. But the bizarre situation was almost too good to be true, and the opportunity was too good to pass up. Alone in the forest with the primary prey? He had to get him off-guard. The prey was armed, so he must be quick. He reacted before thinking.

  Nero ignored his primary prey as it held onto a branch; he was more concerned about anyone seeing what was going on, so he looked around carefully around for any witnesses. He heard the moaning from the prey, and then he climbed down confidently after Carlos, who lay on his back, trying to catch his breath, clutching his injured shoulder.