The Lumberjack

by Erik Martin Willén

  Adrianna hurried to her aid. “That’s not a Winchester, it’s a Remington .50-caliber sporting rifle with an octagonal barrel.” She whistled appreciatively as she eyed the old rifle. “Wow, this is really old, and still in great shape.” She checked the rifle and tested the aim. “Got the ammo?”

  Christina handed her an ancient ammo belt with cartridges snugged into its many leather loops. “Is the ammunition too old?” she asked Adrianna.

  Adrianna took out some of the rounds from the belt and looked them over.

  “Actually, they’re not as old as they look. These are reloads on old brass, but the lead looks pretty new, and the bullets themselves are very well made. Probably used an original mold.”

  Adrianna showed Christina how to load, eject, and reload the weapon, then set the sight at two hundred meters and explained how she should use it. Christina had some experience with modern weapons—having been taught by several experts how to use them whenever she’d made action movies—but didn’t want to rain on Adrianna’s parade, and listened to her lecture. When she finished, Christina put the rifle back in the leather case. Now she could take her time to appreciate the fine craftsmanship. She gently let her fingers touch the old leather.

  “Who was ‘Long Hair?’ Or…something about a morning star?”

  Adrianna looked at her for a moment, and then said, “Both Long Hair and the Son of the Morning Star were Indian names for George Armstrong Custer, the officer famous for dying at the battle of Little Bighorn. Why?”

  “That Ted guy claimed this was his weapon from that battle.”

  The policewoman’s eyes went wide. “Who knows? It could be, but I doubt it. It’s probably in some museum or lost somewhere.”

  Adrianna stroked her large revolver like it was a baby, checking the aim. Christina, meanwhile, looked at the large patch on the leather gun case. It took her a while before she realized what it was she was looking at. “I think I know which way we should take,” she said slowly.

  Peter and Sammy hurried back to the truck after hearing Adrianna’s whistle. “Look, guys. The Tomb Raider solved the riddle,” Adrianna joked, smiling to Christina, who just rolled her eyes.

  “I found a map, right here on the rifle case. Now I understand what he meant when he said I’d already found him.”

  They stood around the case, looking at the map tooled into the leather while Peter held it, comparing their surroundings with the map. They chose the left road, a dirt track, and headed into a deep forest.

  Peter drove slowly; the windows on the doors were down, and Sammy held an automatic rifle ready out his side. They drove up a steady incline and came to the top of a hill, where the road made a wide right turn down into a valley. From their position, they could see quite a distance down below. There was a red truck parked where the road ended. Sammy got out of the truck and crawled to the edge of the road, so he could see down into the valley better while maintaining a low profile. Peter kept watch on the opposite side, while Adrianna kept watch in front of the truck, leaving Christina to cover the rear.

  Sammy made a pre-arranged bird call, and the rest joined him quickly. All took up cover positions while he crawled through the snowy grass, descending the hill. As he approached the red truck, he stopped and peered through the scope on his automatic rifle.

  “You think they’re still in the truck?” Christina asked Peter hopefully.

  “Don’t know. Doubt it.”

  Sammy returned and said, “I think I could hear something coming from the truck, but I don’t want to get to close in case the bastard is watching and waiting for us to make a move so he can kill us all.”

  “You’re right. The fucker’s probably still loaded with explosives.”

  Adrianna asked, “What did you hear?”

  “Sounded like music, but there are tracks in the snow, the little that’s left, leading into the forest.”

  Adrianna intervened, “I can see it’s the same or a similar truck, but how did he change the color like that? If it hadn’t been for all the stuff in the back of the truck, I wouldn’t think twice about this one, but I do recognize some of it.”

  “Me too,” Peter agreed.

  “Well, if this is the truck, then we need to save Robert and Kevin if they’re still locked up in the back,” Christina stated.

  “Not until we know where the bastard is,” Peter said firmly. “No, this is far too easy.”

  Christina insisted, “Come on, Sammy said he heard something, and…”

  The truck exploded.

  The searing heat swept them off their feet—which was fortunate, because shrapnel followed in its wake. When they looked up, there was a giant charred hole in the landscape where there once had been a truck.

  “Well, I guess we just rang the doorbell,” Sammy chuckled.

  Peter smiled. “Let’s hunt.”

  “You’re fucking laughing? They could be dead!” Christina screamed, grabbing and holding up a smoldering cowboy boot. “This was Robert’s!”

  “Calm yourself, Christina, or you’ll stay here,” Peter snapped. “Did you or did you not hear Sammy say there were tracks leading away from the truck in the snow? Besides, look inside the boot.” She did. “Do you see any flesh or blood?”

  She shook her head, trying to stop sobbing.

  Sammy said, “He made them walk barefoot. Pretty standard when moving prisoners in the bush. Makes them less mobile, less likely to run.”

  “But they’ll freeze!”

  Peter nodded. “The cold is the least of their problems, though. Now, let’s move out as soon as we can—I figure the prick has a lead of at least two hours.”

  Adrianna looked down at the crater. “Wonder what set off the explosives?”

  Sammy gave her a dead stare. “Who cares? You can always ask him when we find him.”

  Christina drove slowly down to the valley floor, while the others hovered around her truck like the Secret Service around the President, looking in all directions. She parked and got out of the truck, and for the first time realized that she was very cold. It had stopped snowing, but dark clouds fought the sun on the horizon, and more clouds hurried in their direction on a cold northern wind. She still wore her Lara Croft outfit, less the sunglasses. Peter noticed her predicament and gave her his jacket.

  Then they went over their arsenal and split the weapons between them. Peter put the gun belt from his kit on Christina, and when he’d finished, he leaned back and inspected his work. He tilted his head “If I had a double holster and two guns, you really would make a picture-perfect Lara Croft.”

  Sammy tossed his belt strap with gun to Adrianna, who immediately slipped it on. Both Christina and she were given two spare magazines each. Adrianna checked on her giant .44, and placed the spare ammo in her breast pockets, making her chest even bigger. Christina took the ancient rifle case and strapped it over her back so that it poked up over her left shoulder. With her right hand, she reached back and pulled out Custer’s rifle, loading it with the ammo from the strap crisscrossing the rifle’s strap. In addition to their pistols, Sammy and Peter each strapped on a large, very nasty-looking black knife that looked Asian.

  They split the remaining food amongst them, as well as a few water bottles. “In case you don’t know, do not eat any of the snow, no matter how thirsty you get,” Sammy advised them. “It will cool down your body and could cause hypothermia.”

  Sammy began to search the outskirts of the blast radius; it took a while before he could find their quarry's tracks in the snow. Once their trail ahead was clear, he took the lead with Christina following and then Adrianna, while Peter took up the rear. They advanced slow and carefully, in single-file, following the tracks leading into the forest. Everyone was on their toes, and the calmness of the men, with their greater experience, was soon reflected in the women. The walked a long way, over hills and bluffs, down valleys and gorges. At one point they passed a small creek, and eventually a small river with a quaint little waterfall. The entire t
ime they remained tense and alert. There were no sounds in the forest from any animals, not even birds, and it made the atmosphere very eerie.

  Although it was getting colder and new snow had started to fall, they were all sweating.

  When they had walked for well over two hours, Sammy ordered a halt to rest. He then inspected everyone’s feet. Peter didn’t object, thought the girls didn’t care for it; but they let him check on them.

  “I knew it. The bastard is into feet,” Adrianna whispered to Christina, as the two of them put their boots back on.

  “Hold it, Adrianna, you need a bandage,” Sammy said calmly, removing a first aid kit from his backpack. He taped up her foot while she glared at him. “That blistered heel could ruin yours and everyone’s day,” he explained.

  “It’s standard procedure to check marching soldiers’ feet. Take it like man, officer,” Peter joked.

  Before getting underway again, Sammy had them eat some of their food and drink some water. “Not sure how he can move so bloody fast with two barefoot prisoners,” Sammy noted.

  “Yeah, I thought about that as well,” Peter agreed, and then turned to Christina. “Let’s look at the map again.”

  She handed him her rifle case, with the rifle inside. Peter and Sammy peered at the map, trying to understand it better. “We need to get to higher ground and see if we can see that place there,” Sammy said, tapping the map. “I think it’s a mountain.” He passed the gun case to the others so they could share their thoughts.

  “Why bother, since we’re just following their tracks?”

  “Because, Adrianna, if we know where exactly they’re heading, then I can try a short-cut and maybe ambush the fucker,” Sammy said through gritted teeth. He was frustrated, and didn’t bother to hide it.

  After the rest, they moved on; and now they hurried faster, because the snow started to fall more intensely, and they didn’t want to lose the tracks. When they came to a clearing, they stopped at the edge to reconnoiter. There was a small hill before them, and Sammy crawled to the top. After a while he waved for the others to join him. They did, walking along the tree line to avoid crossing the clearing. All of them could still see the tracks, but the snow didn’t help at all. Christina felt as if they were being watched, and so did the others, she suspected, because of the way they moved with weapons at the ready, looking in all directions.

  “Oh shit,” Sammy said in a low voice as they reached him. He kneeled, raising his hand for everyone to stop. Peter hurried to him in a crouch.

  “What’ve you got?”

  “We’re being watched, but that’s not the bad thing. Look.” Sammy pointed towards the clearing, and to the sides of the surrounding trees, at the hills and bluffs. They were covered with animal bones.“It’s a den, a wolf den—and it’s awful big.”

  Just as he uttered the words, a single howl split the air; soon it was answered by another a little farther to the west, and another and another.

  “Defensive square formation on me, move to the clearing and make it fast!” Sammy ordered loudly.

  Something dark and swift moved between the trees, like a giant shadow; and there was more movement all around them.

  “And the fucker just walked through this place,” Peter said bitterly, as he aimed his weapon towards the forest.

  A large gray wolf appeared atop a nearby hill, peering down at them with its tongue lolling out of its mouth. Soon it was joined by another dozen wolves, all of which appeared enormous. “Look for the alpha!” Sammy shouted. “Take that one out, and the pack will be confused and run!”

  Adrianna smiled like a demon. “Go ahead, punk, make my day.” She pulled out her enormous revolver and aimed at the first wolf on top of the hill. “Bet that’s the fucker in charge,” she said, and then pulled the trigger. The wolf’s head dissolved into a red mist.

  “Nope, that wasn’t the one,” Peter shouted.

  From all sides charged some fifty wolves, howling and snarling. Peter fired single controlled shots, killing three of them, while Adrianna emptied her giant hand cannon, killing at least one more. Then she dropped her artillery piece and used her other sidearm. Sammy killed several of the beasts, while Christina was in shock at first, fumbling with her handgun. A fanged maw only feet from her made her raise her eyes and scream while pulling the trigger as fast as she could. Seconds later, the four humans lay struggling on the ground, wrestling the giant canines that were trying to kill them.

  Sammy rolled to his side and pulled his knife, stabbing one wolf in the neck several times, very quickly, as another bit down on his left boot. He thrust his knife into the monster’s head. The wolf fell like a rock, but the knife was jammed in its skull. Another wolf jumped at him, going for his throat; it fell dead over him as a shot rang out. Adrianna kneeled next to him and fired single shots against the attackers. Peter struggled to his feet and stood tall, having reloaded somehow, aiming and firing while Christina lay on the ground between his legs, firing behind him. When Peter ran out of rounds, having no time to reload he pulled his knife and stabbed fast as a demon at any animal near him, standing over Christina and protecting her. He wielded his weapon like a samurai, and soon the blade was dripping red.

  Adrianna screamed in pain as one animal bit down on her ankle. Peter spun around and quickly dispatched the wolf with a pair of jabs to its chest.

  Christina’s pistol clicked as the slide locked back, and she realized she had to reload quickly. She’d trained with a weapon just like this one a couple of years ago, but this wasn’t a movie set. She fumbled with one of her spare magazines and dropped it; as she was scrambling to retrieve it, she heard a threatening snarl, and looked up at a yellow-eyed beast preparing to leap at her. But that’s as far as it got. Suddenly all the wolves stopped attacking, instead backing off to circle them, yelping and snarling.

  There came the faint sound of a horn in the distance. Not a car horn; something more like a bugle. As Christina snapped up the dropped magazine and reloaded her gun, she looked up at a sheer cliff face; and on top of it was the largest, blackest wolf she had ever seen. It stood there staring down at the carnage with its pitch-black eyes, not moving. At a second blast from a horn, all the wolves that could still run took off in the direction of the cliff where the giant stood.

  It blinked its eyes slowly, then turned and moved away regally.

  They counted eleven wolves on the ground, though a few weren’t completely dead. Peter put them out of their misery with his knife. Meanwhile, Sammy struggled to get his own knife lose from the last wolf he had killed.

  “Fucker controls the fucking animals,” he snarled, while gritting his teeth and pulling the knife free.

  They stumbled away from the wolf den as fast as they could support each other, and didn’t stop until they felt somewhat secure on top of a large hill. The entire time, they could feel the presence of the wolf pack following them through the forest. There were several large rocks on top of the hill, forming a loose circle, and they helped each other to the center. “We’ll be safe here for now, I hope. Check your weapons and do an ammo count. How bad is everyone hurt?” Sammy said, checking his weapon.

  They chimed in with their conditions. Only Adrianna had been seriously injured during the wolf fight.

  They remained on the rock for some time, catching their breath and trying to decide what to do next. Christina walked a few steps away from the others, to the edge of a rock on the opposite side of the circle. The view she saw took her breath away; the enormous hidden valley was beautiful. It almost looked like a park, with hardly any undergrowth or deadwood at all, as if someone had taken care of this part of the forest. In the distance, a stream flowed into a river, leading to a lake with a small but very wide waterfall; and on the opposite side of the lake was a lovely log home on top of a hill, looking like a child’s toy in the distance.

  The entire scenario was incredible, but the lack of bird song and animal sounds reminded her that this was anything but a paradise. As she watc
hed, smoke began to drift from the chimney of the house, as the wolves raised a howl in the distance. Christina squinted her eyes, and could have sworn there was a man sitting on the porch of the house, waving at her, but she wasn’t sure; the distance was far too great.

  “Use this,” Sammy said, and handed her a small pair of binoculars Peter had lent him earlier.

  “He’s there, waiting for me. He’s waving now.”

  She handed the binoculars back to Sammy, but Peter was there to intercept. Next to him stood Adrianna. After a good look, Peter eventually handed the binoculars to her.

  “What’s he waiting for?” Adrianna asked of no one in particular. She continued, “Can anyone of you guys hit him from here?”

  “Not with these scopes, I think,” Peter said, looking at Sammy.

  “We might, but do we want to? We don’t know the location of the hostages.”

  Christina didn’t like the fact that Sammy had called her friends hostages—it sounded a bit too impersonal and professional—but she kept her thoughts to herself. “I’ll go alone,” she said.

  “No fucking way,” Peter replied harshly.

  “It’s the only way I can think of.”

  “I said no fucking way.”

  Adrianna asked, “What about the wolves?”

  “He controls them somehow, at least that’s what I think, and he won’t let them harm me. He wants me, and only me.”

  Sammy looked at her. “How do you know?”

  “He’s not my first mad stalker,” Christina tried to joke.

  “What part of no fucking way don’t you understand!?”

  “Peter, I understand that the fates of Robert and Kevin lie in that madman’s hands. I also firmly believe he’s in love with me, and that’s why I should go. Besides, look at you guys: you’re all injured. Adrianna can barely walk, and neither can either of you men.”

  They all fell silent, thinking of what Christina had said, until Peter muttered, “Cavalry should be here soon.”

  “Won’t that make things worse?”

  He looked tiredly at Christina, and then he sat down heavily on the hard, rocky surface, looking very tired.