by E. Joan Sims
Burke would have no use for me if I broke my leg. He would shoot me on the spot like an injured horse. Nevertheless, I had finally decided to risk ignoring his orders to seek the blessed warmth of the fire when I heard the rifle shot.
“Damn! He did it!” I shouted exultantly, then whispered, “Bring home the bacon, you sorry piece of shit.”
I crawled as close to the edge of the wooden shelf as I dared, listening; but silence lay on the land thicker than the new blanket of snow. All I could hear was the occasional fall of a forgotten dry leaf as it spiraled to the icy ground.
For what seemed like hours, I agonized over what to do. Not knowing what had happened was the stuff of my nightmares.
I had no idea how far away Burke was when he fired the rifle. Sound carried a long way in the cold, that much I knew. With the trees almost bare and the absorbent layer of snow on the ground, it might possibly travel even farther. There was nothing else to do. I steeled myself to wait.
It didn’t take long. I heard a scream in the distance and then the sound of pounding hooves. I heard the rifle fire once more, then saw Burke staggering through the woods. He lurched drunkenly from tree to tree, circling each one before going to the next. It took me a moment to figure it out. Something was chasing him.
The big buck was huge. His antlers looked like a hayrack and his shoulders and haunches were enormously broad and muscular. He was a creature of wild and spirited beauty. But in spite of his size, he was all power and grace, and he was definitely on the offensive in the battle with Captain Burke.
Burke frantically circled the tree trunks as the deer circled him with casual contempt. The terrified man hesitated, then made a break for the clearing. The buck followed at a slow and deliberate pace. Burke grabbed a smoldering branch from the fire and held it in front of him like a sword. Ignoring the flame, the deer stood on his hind legs and attacked Burke viciously with his forefeet. One razor-sharp hoof caught the edge of Burke’s eyebrow. Bright red blood poured freely down his face. I screamed and Burke turned his blinded eyes toward me. He raised his arms up in supplication as the buck lowered his antlers and ran him through the middle of his body.
Unable to tear my eyes away from the horrible sight, I watched the deer shake Burke like a rag doll as he struggled to rid himself of the man’s torn and bleeding flesh. With one final mighty toss of his head, the buck sent Burke tumbling head over heels across the clearing. He pawed the frozen ground and snorted angrily. When he was sure his prey was broken and helpless, he turned and raced off into the silent white shroud of the forest.
I sat frozen on the edge of the platform hardly daring to breathe, yet unable to look away. Burke’s legs jerked violently several times, then stilled as the snow around him turned a bright and hideous red.
I finally closed my eyes, and with a great shuddering sigh, admitted to myself that Burke was dead and I was free. There was no sense of elation or joy associated with my liberation, only a great weariness.
I turned around and crawled over to the tree trunk in preparation to leave my flimsy perch. Just as I secured a foothold on the first crude rung of the ladder, the deer stand swayed one last time and began to break up. I hugged the tree tightly as planks rained down upon me. Henry’s side of the shelf was the last to go. He followed, stiff and unbending, in an awkward diving half gainer. I tried to duck out of the way, but his frozen legs caught me on the shoulder and tore me away from the ladder. We landed side by side beneath the tree, two wingless snow angels, one breathless and the other beyond breathing.
For one moment I considered lying there beside Henry for eternity. I was so very tired. I hadn’t moved since I fell and I didn’t know if I could. It would be so easy, I thought, to just close my eyes and go to sleep. Nobody would blame me. I had fought a good fight. I was the last one left. I had won. Raggedy Ann, armed with nothing more than raccoon piss, had managed to outlive them all. I smiled slowly. It was just too good a story. I had to live to tell the tale.
With wobbly knees, I got to my feet and brushed the snow off. The fire was completely out except for a few hot ashes. The knowledge that I had no matches spurred me on in search of fuel.
First I piled up the planks from the deer stand. I tried to break them into smaller pieces to use for kindling, but it was no use. And there was nothing smaller within sight. But I did see Henry’s knapsack.
He hadn’t been kidding about the amount of money he had gotten from the arms deal. There was money to burn, and that’s exactly what I did. A stack of twenties helped fan the ashes to a healthy and respectable flame. Three thousand dollars later, I had a lovely, roaring fire.
I gathered up all the wood I could find without venturing too far into the woods. The coyotes would be waiting around in their eagerness to finish off Burke and Henry. I didn’t want to run into them before dinnertime. That brought another problem to mind. I didn’t want to be anywhere near the all-night scavenger buffet. Henry and Burke had to be moved.
Henry’s body was the heaviest. I tackled him first. Burke was still warm to the touch. I shuddered with repulsion when my hands brushed his flesh. With considerable effort, I managed to drag them both a safe distance from the clearing and me.
I turned my back on the bodies and then remembered the Ricine. It was too dangerous to leave unprotected. I trudged back to Burke’s body and unzipped his pockets. Both pint jars were inside and still intact. I gingerly picked them up and took them back to the campfire. Henry’s knapsack seemed the best place to put them. I opened it and marveled once more at the stacks and stacks of bills inside.
I tucked the Ricine safely into one corner of the bag and decided to add the bottles I had switched on Burke to the stash. Might as well put all the rotten eggs in one basket, I thought. When I pulled them out of my pocket, I noticed each had a small round label on the bottom. I turned them over. One label read, “Raccoon Urine,” and the other “Fox Urine.”
I sank down to my knees in horror. If these bottles were correctly labeled, I had doused Burke with doe estrus and the tarsal gland extract. It was no wonder the buck had attacked him! The two confusing scents must have driven the animal wild. And I had poured the entire contents of both bottles on Burke. I had killed him as surely as if I had stuck a gun in his ear and pulled the trigger.
I had a hard time deciding whether to congratulate or condemn myself for what I had done. Ultimately, torn between the two, I decided to have a hot drink and think about it later.
I heard the distant sound of the helicopter when I was melting my second cup of snow in the sausage tin. I anxiously searched the sky above the clearing but saw nothing. Knowing the campfire would be the only way to signal anyone in the air, I piled on more wood. Soon the flames were higher than my head and reaching eagerly upward. I piled on even more branches and sticks as I prayed for the aircraft to come my way.
Forty minutes later my hoard of firewood was almost spent and there was no sign of anyone or anything. The fire had dwindled down, and there was barely enough wood left to last me the rest of the day, much less all night. My goose was cooked. I didn’t think I had any tears left, but suddenly my cheeks were wet. I gave in to my disappointment and cried bitterly.
The first time I heard Cassie calling me I thought I was hallucinating. I raised my head and wiped my face on my sleeve. Then I heard her voice again—a pure, sweet, lovely sound coming from the depths of the forest.
I stood up and opened my mouth to shout back. I didn’t care if I was imagining things. If I had lost my mind then let me go all the way and howl like a banshee in the wind.
“Cassie!” I called. “Cassie, where are you?”
Again I heard her clearly. Her voice was excited and full of joy.
“Mom! Oh, God! Mom! Wait! Wait! We’re coming!”
I sank back down on my knees and sobbed with relief. That’s how Cassie found me when she burst into the clearing with Danny Hall close behind.
“Oh, Mom! Thank God you’re alive. Oh, Mom!”
/> She threw herself on me. We tumbled over in the snow, hugging each other. We laughed and cried and rolled over and over like two rambunctious puppies in our happiness.
Finally Cassie sat up and grabbed my hands in hers.
“I bet you’re starving to death!”
“You sound like Gran,” I laughed. “But you got that right!”
Danny knelt down beside us and examined my face.
“Are you hurt, Mrs. DeLeon?” he asked.
“All over,” I laughed, then shook my head and smiled. “No, Danny, I don’t think so. Not really, just some bruises here and there. But I am very, very tired and hungry.”
He helped Cassie lift me up and looked around the clearing.
“Looks like you kicked some butt,” he marveled.
“We saw the bodies back in the woods. Did you…?” asked Cassie with raised eyebrows.
“Only one,” I answered her unspoken question. “And honestly, that was an accident. I didn’t know the urine from the estrus.”
Cassie looked at Danny and shook her head.
“We’d better get her out of here as quickly as we can. Let’s not wait for the others. They can take care of the dead guys. Let’s get Mom back to the hotel.”
“Ohhh, hotel! How wonderful! Mother and Horatio are still at the lodge? They have a lot of food there. Let’s go,” I agreed happily.
“Yeah,” grunted Danny, as he cocked his head knowingly at Cassie. “The sooner the better. She’s just this short of around the bend.”
“Just around the bend,” I asked. “Is that all? Well, let’s get started. Come on Cassie! Don’t be the cow’s tail,” I laughed.
Chapter Forty
My feet moved and my legs followed, but I don’t remember anything of our trek out of the woods. Cassie told me later it was only about a forty-five minute walk to the trail where she and Danny had left the jeep they borrowed from the forest rangers. That forty-five minutes is erased from my memory bank forever.
I wish some of the other things that happened to me in the woods would go away. But even after I was checked over by the doctor, after I had been assured over and over again by everyone I loved that the nightmare was over, I still remembered.
That first night the hotel doc gave me something to make me sleep, but it didn’t keep me from dreaming. I awoke at three in the morning, screaming with fear. Burke’s hands were around my throat again. I could smell the musky odor of the doe scent as he poured it over my body. And the buck was running, hooves pounding in the snow. Only this time he was coming for me, not Burke, but me. I screamed.
“Darling, it’s all right,” crooned Mother softly. “You’re safe now. You’re with us. Cassie and Horatio are here, and we’ll all protect you. Nothing else is going to hurt you.”
Her soft hands brushed the damp hair back from my forehead and massaged my throbbing temples.
“Go back to sleep, dear. You need to get your strength back. You’ve nothing to fear ever again.”
She was wrong. I kept myself from screaming again, but Burke and Henry waltzed through my dreams all night, threatening me with death and eternal damnation.
“I’m waiting for you,” screamed Burke, his eyes wide open and filled with his own blood. “I’m waiting for you in Hell. You can try to forget, but I won’t! Not ever!”
I finally pulled myself out of the tumbled, sweat-soaked sheets when I smelled breakfast. I spent a long time under the luxuriant warmth of the hotel shower, soaping my hair over and over again with Cassie’s apple-scented shampoo. The bathroom was full of steam when I climbed out of the tub, and I studiously avoided looking in the fogged-over mirror as I wrapped myself in the big, thick terry cloth housecoat hanging on the back of the door.
I dressed quickly in warm fleecy sweats and joined the others in the living room. Horatio was sitting in front of the fire with a clean fresh cast on his leg. Danny and Cass were perched on the stools at the breakfast bar smiling and talking while Mother hovered over the stove, deep in culinary bliss.
I sat down quietly beside Horatio, took his hand and held it to my cheek. I closed my eyes and thanked God I was back. My old friend turned and gently pulled me into his arms. He held me while I cried without making a sound.
Mother made a huge breakfast, and we unanimously decided to eat in front of the fire so Horatio could be with us. Danny and Cassie carried plates of tender apple pancakes dusted with pearl sugar, sunny yellow scrambled eggs, crispy bacon, buttered grits, and country sausage into the living room. Mother followed with a basket of crusty angel biscuits and two racks of hot Texas toast.
I thought at first all I would be able to manage was a cup of tea and a biscuit, but I was mistaken. The more I ate, the more I wanted. Ultimately it was Danny who brought it to my attention that I was making a pig of myself.
“Wow! You sure can tuck it away,” he marveled.
“Danny! Don’t be rude!” chastised Cassie.
I burst into tears.
Danny’s big kindly face crumpled as he watched me in horrified embarrassment.
“Oh, Jeez, Mrs. DeLeon, I didn’t mean to…”
“That’s okay, Danny, she’s just tired,” said Mother as she led me back into the bedroom. She must have called the housekeeping staff at some point, because the bed was freshly made with crisp, clean sheets and another comforter. My very own down pillows from home were piled in a welcome nest against the headboard. I sank gratefully into the warm softness and slept deeply and dreamlessly for the first time.
When I awoke again it was after dark. I could hear the voices of strangers in the living room. I slipped on the clean clothes Mother had laid out for me and pulled my hair back with a ribbon.
My legs felt much stronger and my mind was almost clear. It suddenly occurred to me that I hadn’t said anything to Danny about his stepfather. Maybe, I thought in dismay, he didn’t know. I hated to be the one to have to tell him that Bert was dead.
I opened the door a bit to peek out and see who was there. It wasn’t Danny. That was a momentary relief. I opened the door the rest of the way and went on in to join the others.
Mother and Horatio were seated side by side on the sofa in front of the fire. Horatio held his arm protectively around Mother’s shoulder. Cassie was standing stiffly in front of one of the sliding glass doors that opened to the balcony. She had her back to the two men who were questioning Mother and Horatio, but it was clear she was listening intently to their every word. As I entered the room she whirled around to face them.
“You’re crazy!” she shouted angrily. “My mother would never be a part of anything like that!”
“A part of what, Cassie?” I asked softly.
The two men stood abruptly and tried not to look embarrassed at being put in their place by a twenty-year-old slip of a girl. They were wearing dark suits, plain white shirts, and black ties. The only thing they needed to complete their outfits, I mused, were dark sunglasses.
“And you would be the ‘men in black,’” I joked as I held out my hand. “I’m Paisley Sterling DeLeon. Is there something I can do for you? Besides confess to crimes and misdemeanors, that is?”
The taller of the two men grinned awkwardly as he shook my hand.
“Special Agent Stern, ma’am,” he said. “And my partner here is Agent Roberts.”
He pulled up one of the armchairs and offered me a seat.
“I know you’ve been through a great deal, Mrs. DeLeon but you must understand we have a lot of questions we have to ask.”
“Who is ‘we,’” I asked carefully.
“FBI, ma’am. Federal Bureau of…”
“Okay,” I interrupted. “And just why is the FBI interested…oh, because of the Ricine.”
I might as well have slapped them both with a wet mop. Their jaws dropped and they both turned white as a sheet. They looked so comical I had to laugh.
“Paisley, dear,” asked Horatio earnestly, “did you say Ricine?”
“Yeah, two pint jars full
of the stuff. Burke was going to break the glass and stuff it in the dead militia guy’s pants before he dumped him in the reservoir. But it’s okay. I poured the tarsal gunk on Burke and the deer killed him. The Ricine is in the knapsack with all the money from the sale of the sidewinder missiles.”
I turned to Cassie and asked, “You and Danny brought the knapsack back didn’t you?”
She was staring at me with as much surprise as everyone else in the room, but she quickly recovered and opened the door to the balcony.
“I stuck it out here,” she said. “It was filthy.”
She bent down to pick up the dirty knapsack but Stern, moving with the speed of light, got there first. He lifted the bag gingerly by the strap and motioned for Roberts to help clear the coffee table.
They both donned latex gloves and carefully examined the exterior of the bag.
“It’s okay,” I laughed. “There’s no bomb in there or anything. Just money and that white stuff. Believe me. I searched it from inside out looking for something to eat.”
They turned and looked at me like I had done something dreadful.
“I’m sorry,” I stammered. “The money’s all there. Oh, except for the three thousand dollars I used to start the fire.”
Horatio threw back his head and laughed. The sound of his genuine amusement filled the room and cleared the air of suspicion. Agent Stern sat back in his chair and started laughing also. Soon Roberts was wiping his eyes and holding his sides.
I looked from one to the other in consternation. My feelings were hurt. I had attempted to be as open as I could. God forbid I should ever be accused of stonewalling a federal government investigation. I sat there in acute discomfort trying my best not to cry while they rocked back and forth with laughter.
My feelings must have been transparently etched on my face because Horatio reached over and held my hands while he struggled to control himself.
