The Lumberjack

by Erik Martin Willén

  He woke up, startled, looking around in confusion. It took him a moment to realize he had fallen asleep, and it was much darker now. Nero cursed himself quietly, and then he got to his feet slowly, did some stretching, and then struggled on toward where had had hidden his truck.

  He reached the river and had to walk upstream for some time until he reached the shallows. He waded across in the cold water, holding his bandage in place the entire time. Once he crossed the river, he went downstream; following the forest edge, he would soon reach the place where he had hidden his truck. But as he got closer, he could smell smoke; and then he heard the music.

  He stopped, bewildered. What now? He was sure this place had been secluded, the perfect hideout now that rafting season was over. He crept closer towards the sound of guitar music and people singing. He saw many vehicles parked around the campsite, all over and back towards the woods, and a large trailer stacked with rubber rafts. Nero cursed himself silently. He had done his due diligence, and knew full well that the rafting tour had ended the previous week. Now who are these idiots? he wondered, as he observed the crowd like the injured and hungry predator he was. It was an older crowd, not teenagers, unfortunately. To his surprise, none of them were fiddling with their damned phones. Instead they ate, drank, sang, and danced. Nor could he smell any pot. This was definitely a strange crowd.

  He squinted his eyes, suspicious; no marijuana could mean that there were cops among them. Sadly, they were too far away to tell, and several tents lay in his way, prohibiting him from seeing more. Suddenly he smiled; boy, she sure was a pretty little thing, now wasn’t she, dancing around the fire with her friends like a forest nymph?

  * * * * *

  AN EXHAUSTED Anna-Maria da Silva stared out the hospital window into the early afternoon. She had no more tears to cry, and her dead stare was that of a broken woman. She sensed someone in the room. Better not be the kids, she thought. She wasn’t ready for that, not yet, but she knew that eventually she would have to gather new strength and face the inevitable. Just the thought of it made her start crying again.

  A strong hand fell on her shoulder. “Sorry. Sorry, Anna-Maria, for failing you and Carlos.”

  She turned, facing Malik Washington. The top of his head was swathed in bandages, and his left arm was in a sling. He was bruised and had several cuts and lacerations on his face, and she guessed his body was covered with them, too. Despite his smoky-dark skin, the big man looked pale. “The bastard is dead—we think,” he reported.

  “But you don’t know, do you?”

  “We think he blew himself up.”

  “What if he didn’t? Did you see him?”

  “Well, I’m pretty sure, and I did see something. Right before the explosion.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “Something? You think?” She turned her face away from Malik, who sat himself down next to the hospital bed. “Why don’t you make sure of it?”

  “There’s nothing left of the killer, Anna-Maria. The bastard took most of my colleagues here and in the surrounding counties, and a group of Feds, with him. He killed 12 good men and women in the blast alone.”

  She looked at him. “Well, I would be grateful if you made sure the person who blew himself up was the same person who murdered my husband.”

  Malik looked bewildered. “How?”

  Anna-Maria sounded a bit more harsh than she wanted to. “Just look at my phone. The man’s face is on the last message Carlos send me. He called me, and everything was caught on video, and…”

  Malik rushed to his feet, shouting out loud, “Where?! Where is your phone?”

  “Over there in my purse. I’m not sure how it got there, but I guess that doesn’t matter.”

  Malik went through her purse. He handed her the phone and she typed in the security code, and then she went through the call list. Once she found the last call, she pushed the play button and handed the phone to Malik.

  “I turned off the volume. I don’t want to see or hear it ever again.”

  Malik looked a bit confused, and then he hit the pause button, looking at her inquisitively. She just motioned with her hand for him to leave. She knew he had to listen and watch what she had already seen and heard.

  Nero needed to get away. Normally, he would have waited until the two-leggeds had left, which would most likely be the next morning. But right now, he didn’t have that luxury; he was injured. He needed his regular clothes and some food. Everything was in his truck, and his truck was parked farther away from the small path, near the tree line. Apparently no one had paid his truck any attention; perhaps they thought it belonged to one of them. There were, after all, about thirty people camping. He moved stealthily in the shadows along the tree line until he reached his truck, then looked over towards the campers and realized that no one was using a phone. Nowadays, that was odd. He soon found that some idiot had parked a huge Mercedes behind him, blocking his truck. Who drove a Mercedes off-road?

  He moved past the large black car; fortunately, it had white leather upholstery, so he could see the large bag and a box with several cell phones in it on the passenger’s seat. He didn’t understand why all the phones were there. Again, he scouted the campsite, and noticed to his surprise how clean it was. He saw two large black plastic sacks, each mounted on several wooden poles, used as trash cans.

  He was near his own truck, and needed first aid and food; the smell of the barbeque didn’t help at all. He decided that there was no need to sneak around, but if he could, he would stay concealed for as long as possible. He unlocked his truck and grabbed his bag. He undressed in a hurry, trying to come up with a plan. He thought, I can tell them I’ve been hiking and need to get home. They’ll probably invite me to the party; should I stay for a while, or be in a hurry?

  He then got out a plastic bottle containing an alcohol gel mixed with chloride. He rubbed it all over his body as fast as he could. It was the perfect potion to eradicate the stink. He realized he should have done that first, but he was tired and felt weak. His body had taken too many blows, and needed mending and rest before he continued his good work.

  Nero took out a more advanced first aid kit and tended to the wound in his side; then he focused on dressing some of the more superficial ones. When he was done, he put on his typical lumberjack clothes; they were dirty and smelled sweaty. He heard more laughter from the partiers. He coughed some, and when he saw the specks of blood on his hand, he knew it was bad.

  * * * * *

  A GROUP of people sat next to one of the two fires, passing around a tequila bottle, lime, and salt. Others were dancing around the second fire, while several played guitars, bongo drums, and a harmonica.

  “All right, who cut one? Man, it really stinks!” someone complained, a few others agreeing. All of them search for the idiot who had dropped the stink bomb.

  Parker shouted, “So Rohan and Daniela, tell us…?”

  “Tell you what…? You are drunk,” Rohan shouted back, while embracing his wife.

  “What’s your big secret, guys? How do you keep up the perfect marriage?”

  Daniela licked up some salt from her upper hand and then she said, “It’s quite simple. Happy wife, happy life.” She nodded her head towards her new car. “It boils down to three letters: A-M-G.” She then went for the bottle of tequila, pushing her husband away a bit so she could drink.

  Rohan stood up and gestured with his hands for attention and silence. “Naw, that ain’t it.”

  “What is it, then?” Blake shouted, holding on to Tammy, who was kissing his ear.

  Rohan stood in a thinking pose and then he said, “As the good doctor always says, a blowjob a day keeps the wenches away!”

  Daniela coughed up her tequila, and the lime shot into the fire like a missile, while the rest of the horde laughed like mad. Rohan finished, “Or was it an apple?”

  Blake looked at Tammy, who looked back at him while wetting her lips with her tongue. They were on one of the benches, and she sat on his knees by
a table with dozens of platters of food behind them.

  Christina, just back from dancing, rolled her eyes at the joke, shaking her head and laughing, only to see her best friend seducing yet another poor man. Tammy stood up and placed her hand in Blake’s. A barely noticeable nod of her head, and the two of them wandered away towards the vehicles.

  Christina found Robert over by the table, stuffing himself with a mountain of spare ribs. A stack of beer cans sat on the table, empty. Maybe with some alcohol in him, he’ll make a move, she thought. She grabbed a plate, having no intention of eating more because she was full as it was, and walked over to the food table. She grabbed some homemade bread and a dipping sauce she had tried earlier and liked. She was a little disappointed, because the big lug hadn’t made any moves on her at all the entire day; a matter of fact, ever since they had started the journey down the river, he had acted cold and distant toward her. Actually, it had begun just after Peter had introduced the two muscle boys to Tammy and her…

  Since there was no place of interest for her to sit on the bench, she walked towards the river and found a flat rock to sit on. Just as she got settled, she realized to her annoyance that she had forgotten to grab something to drink. Unlike most of the partiers, she had only had one beer with supper; after that she’d kept to sodas, iced tea, and juice. She’d already partied hard for two nights with Tammy, and that was enough.

  “May I join you?” She looked up towards the voice, and was suddenly tongue-tied. The best she could do was nod.

  Robert sat next to her, facing the river, and handed her a Coke. He had brought a spare rib, and chewed on it some. Christina decided to change her sitting position and get closer, but misjudged her balance and immediately rolled to the side, right into his lap. Couldn’t play harder to get than that, she told herself sarcastically as her cheeks burned. She was grateful for the darkness creeping up on them as the sun set, hiding her blush. She felt like a naïve little girl in Robert’s presence. “Sorry, I’m a bit clumsy,” she apologized.

  “Indeed you are.”

  Christina’s eyes went wide; the big oaf wasn’t supposed to agree, now was he?

  Neither said a word to each other; they just watched the beautiful landscape and river as the sun painted the sky brilliant shades of orange, red, mauve, and pink, inspired by the smoke pouring from the mountain.

  * * * * *

  NERO HAD his back turned, but he could hear the footsteps approaching. “Should I kill them all, or just a few, or none at all?” he mumbled and half-sung while buttoning his shirt.

  Blake faced Tammy, and for a moment they just stared at each other; and then they started kissing hungrily and a bit clumsily, given their drinking earlier. It wasn’t long before they started fumbling with each other’s clothes, still lip-locked, kicking off shoes and trying to get pants down.

  “Howdy, folks,” said a friendly voice.

  The kissing stopped instantly. They stared at each other and quickly started fixing their clothes, laughing nervously.

  “Howdy, sir. Sorry if you had to see that,” Blake said pleasantly, turning to the stranger. He wrinkled his brow, trying to remember the name of the person who stood there looking at him and Tammy.

  “Is this your Mercedes?” the man asked. “Sure would appreciate it if you guys could move it. It’s blocking in my truck.”

  “Sure. Well, we can get the owner. Have we met?”

  “Not sure. The name’s Ted Hagglund.” The man extended his hand, and Blake grabbed it thoughtfully.

  “I’m Blake, and this is Tammy. Wait, I think I know you; you’re one of those precision loggers, right?”

  Looking a bit shy, Hagglund replied, “Yeah, well, I’ll settle for the term lumberjack.”

  “I think we might have met here and there. Skull Creek ain’t that big.”

  “Sure isn’t.”

  “I guess you know Robert, then.”

  “Precision guy who helped the firemen at the accident, right?”

  “That’s him. I was there too, taking care of the electricity poles.”

  “Nasty business, all that.”

  “Sure was. So what are you doing in these parts?”

  Tammy interrupted with, “I’m not sure it’s any of our business, Blake.”

  He looked down into the glistening eyes demanding his attention. “Yeah, you’re right Tammy.”

  “No big deal. I’ve been hiking all day. Love the forest, that’s all.”

  The wind changed direction, and Nero cursed himself. He’d forgotten to put his clothes from the fight in a plastic bag; they still stank.

  “Holy shit, that stinks something awful,” Tammy said, screwing up her face. “What is that, Blake?”

  “Not sure. Could be a dead skunk.”

  Nero intervened, “Sorry guys, my bad—truth is, I slipped on the trail and fell on, you guessed it, a dead skunk. That’s why I smell like detergent right now—had to clean it off myself. The smell’s from my darn clothes. I expect I’ll have to wash them in tomato juice. Hang on, and I’ll put them into a bag.”

  He hurried to his truck, found the filthy outfit, and tossed it into a thick garbage bag. He tied it closed, and then put the closed bag into one more bag, making sure the stink was taken care of. He then went back to Blake and Tammy.

  “So sorry about that, ma’am,” he said to Tammy. Tammy smiled at him, then grabbed Blake’s hand. “So about the car…?” Nero gestured towards the Mercedes.

  Tammy was feeling a bit frustrated, but kept her cool. “I’ll get the owner. I’ll be right back.” As she strolled away she suddenly turned and said, “Hey Ted, would you like to join us? It’s a great party with a lot of food and booze!”

  Nero did a quick calculation and decided it would look better if he joined them and became one of the gang, so to speak. After all, he was very hungry. “Well, ma’am, I don’t want to impose.”

  “Stop the ‘ma’am’ shit and come on over. We got enough food for an army.”

  He gave Tammy and Blake a bland smile and joined them. He got introduced to only a few people around the table, and that was good, Nero thought. He grabbed a beer, and instantly he blended in.

  Tammy pointed over at a couple making out like teenagers on the end of one of the benches. Suddenly the guy, a short, stocky fellow, fell on his ass on the ground. The tall, slender woman put her hands over her face and laughed hysterically. “Keep it up, lady, and you’ll be sleeping alone for a month!” the little guy declared.

  “You wouldn’t last a month without it!” the woman giggled. Then she laughed even harder, more like a man would.

  “Ted, the one laughing at her husband is the person you’re looking for. Her name is…”

  “Daniela. Yes, I know of her—one of the doctors in town,” Nero finished her sentence.

  Nero took a paper plate and piled it high with coleslaw and bread. The chicken wings and the ribs smelled wonderful; and even though he mostly avoided meat, he did eat it from time to time, and now was as good as time as any.

  But while he ate, he started to feel faint, and his appetite suddenly vanished.

  * * * * *

  CHRISTINA FELT completely satisfied…well, almost. Without thinking, she leaned her head onto Robert’s broad, muscular shoulder. He smelled manly. He trembled a little, so she moved a bit closer, snuggling up to him; and finally there was his arm, coming around her—and just as it touched her shoulder, there was a scream and laughter.

  “Hey, bro, there you are. Can I please have one more beer? Please?” Pat stood there with two other girls about her age, both holding a beer each.

  Robert stood up, facing his sister. “This is the last one, all right? That goes for all of you.”

  Christina stared at the river sadly. What the hell, she needed to use the little girl’s tree anyway. As she rose, she said, “I’ll be right back, Robert…”

  She trailed off as she saw him walking away, apparently lecturing his sister and her friends.

  Irri
tated, Christina looked around for a decent spot to relieve herself. She realized she had to head back past the camp to do that. She hurried past one of the tables, where a few people were still eating. She wasn’t sure how they could still be hungry, but maybe she’d just found out why most men in Skull Creek were giants. As she passed the table heading into the forest, she sensed eyes on her. She was used to that, but since she had gotten here, almost no one had treated her as Ms. Hollywood; they just treated her like everyone else, so this seemed a little strange.

  She turned toward the table, and the man staring at her immediately turned away. Whatever. Christina hurried away, because now she really needed to empty her bladder, but she recognized that acquired stare so characteristic of paparazzi and stalkers, and she couldn’t keep it out of her mind.

  * * * * *

  NERO HAD to hurry; apparently, she had recognized him. He didn’t understand why he had to hurry, but something was amiss—something he had done or said, perhaps. He didn’t know, but he knew he needed to move on. That the pretty little thing was here was one thing, but for some reason it had raised red flags in his mind. He went back in his head to the time he first had seen her, then on to the one time they had met on the road, and what he had said to her. But he drew a blank on that, and it bothered him. His intuition for danger was superior to anyone else’s because he had evolved to be far superior to these weak two-legged creatures.

  No matter. Time to move on.

  “Excuse me, ma’am,” he said to Daniela, “but I would be grateful if you could move your car. It’s blocking my truck.”