by E. C. Marsh
Chapter 30
“Sir, we need to head back.” The pilot said to Jeff Craft. “They couldn't have drifted this far. I'd like to go back to where you had the contact and start from there once more.”
“All right.” said Jeff Craft. Then he pulled out his phone and dialed a number. After a couple of rings, a young male voice answered.
“Hey Ron,” he said. “Did Messer get back to the compound yet?”
“No, he sure didn't. Is he on his way here?”
“Well, he called me from the base, and he was pretty unhappy. He said he would be on his way back to Kansas City, to the airport. I just wanted to see what he was up to. It's been a couple of hours. Actually I was hoping he had calmed down.”
“I'm sorry he's not here. Haven't seen him. He probably caught a ride from the base, or maybe he's in some little tavern having a beer.”
“He better not. I could use his help. Have him call me when he shows up.”
“Sure will. Perhaps I could be of help?”
Chapter 31
As the chopper moved on, Tom began to slowly move his canoe down river. Keeping under the cover of the overhanging trees made it harder, but his pounding heart admitted what his mind refused to accept. He was afraid to take the easy route downriver, out in the open.
Carefully, he made his way to where Sandy was holding on to a branch. He worked hand over hand, trying to avoid any undue rocking motions that could wake up Ralph or cause him pain. Finally he reached Sandy. She was clinging to a thick, exposed root of an old Sycamore. Her eyes were pinched shut, and the knuckles of her hands were white from clinging to the tree. He saw her lips move, and wondered if she was praying. Sandy, praying?
“Sandy,” he said softly. “Sandy, they're gone. It's okay now.”
Sandy slowly opened her eyes. They were red, and the lids were puffy. He could tell by her sniffles that she had been crying.
“Oh come now, it's not quite that bad.” He reached out and gently rubbed her arm. “We are almost there. Everything will be all right, and by tonight you'll be home and Ralph will be taken care of. So go ahead and let go of that root so we can get moving again.”
Sandy sighed long and deep. “I know,” she said, “I know. The logical, rational side of me says so too, but the irrational side just wants to go kick butt and take numbers.”
Tom saw that despite her smiles, she was shaking all over. Tom carefully maneuvered their canoes side by side, then he hugged Sandy and held her for a moment.
“You've held up beautifully,” he said. “I have to give it to you, kid. You're one tough cookie!”
She smiled at him. “Thanks Tom,” she said. “I needed that.”
“What about me, huh?” Ralph was carefully turning over onto his left side.
“Shut up Ralph,” they both said simultaneously.
“We should be at the take out pretty quick now. Actually, I think it's just up ahead.” Tom was all business again.
“Let's just stay together now, we are too close to the end. Give some thought to a contingency plan in case Sam and Chris aren't there.”
“God, I hope they're there, and I hope they have lots of cold beer! What side is the take out supposed to be on anyway?”
Tom pointed across the river to the opposite bank. They sat in silence for a moment.
“We will have to get out there and cross the river.”
“Yes, we sure do.”
“Let's be quick and get it over with.”
“Sam said we would be passing a huge cliff. You know, steep white rock. No trees between it and the river, just rocks and water. Sam said there's a cave up in that cliff, he had hoped to climb up and explore it with us.” Tom pushed them away from the Sycamore.
“Well,” said Sandy. “Let's just go and say we did. I am not stopping for any caves, never again.”
“I didn't say we should. I'm just giving you some landmarks. You need to help me look for the spot where we can beach the canoes and get Ralph out, okay?”
“Sorry.”
He didn't like crossing the river. The other bank had no cover for them. Should the chopper return, they would have nowhere to hide. And where the hell was that second chopper anyway?
“Come on, kiddo. Put a little muscle into it. Let's get across and out of the open.”
“You're worried about that second chopper, aren't you.”
Sandy could be intuitive if she wanted to be.
“Yeah, two went downstream, only one came back. It bothers me.”
“If they come back and we have no place to hide, why don't we just play the old tourist game and wave? You know, Hiiiii!, waving and taking pictures? After all, we are just a couple of people out on a little float trip.”
Tom looked a little skeptical.
“I don't know. I'd just as soon not meet those assholes again.”
He carefully studied the far bank. Lots of trees, but too far from the river to not give them cover if they needed it. He felt his stomach cramping, his chest was getting tight. Then he saw a big wall of rock up ahead.
“Yes,” he said, almost too loud. “Yes, baby you are beautiful!”
“Is that Sam's cliff?”
“Yup, I do believe so.”
It was just as Sam had described. An overwhelming wall of vertical white rock rose straight up and out of the water. Several large boulders lay in the water at its base as if tossed there by a giant.
Tom thought he could make out crevices in the vertical wall, but at the same time did not want to slow down to look. He couldn't help but feel excited. At the other end of this rock wall were the cars. Chris and Sam would be waiting for them, and then they would be home.
They paddled on in silence. The river was wide at this point, wide and shallow and slow. They were almost in the middle of the river. Really easier than I thought, Tom said to himself. We'll be okay!
At that moment, just as they reached the middle, the second little green helicopter came around the big bluff. Tom saw it almost before he heard it, and from the look on Sandy's face he could tell that she had seen it at the same time.
“We are tourists!” he yelled to her. As if on cue she raised her arms to shield her face from the sun, squinting at the chopper. He quickly checked on Ralph. His injured leg was conveniently covered by a towel, and his floppy fishing hat was pulled over his face to block out the sun. All propped up, he looked like a guy who's had too many beers and is taking an afternoon nap.
“Ralph,” he hissed. “Ralph, don't move. We have trouble. Pretend to be asleep. You've had too many beers and are taking a nap. You understand?”
“Okay, I hear you,” Ralph said quietly. “I'll be okay.”
The chopper slowly moved closer and Tom grabbed hold of Sandy's canoe with one hand.
“Don't change anything,” he said. “Look friendly.”
“I know, just tourists out on the water for a little R and R.,” she said. She smiled at the chopper and waved her hand.
“Do you think they'll put that damn thing down in the water?”
“I doubt it,” said Tom. “It's not that shallow. My guess is about two or three feet. I don't think they can land in that much moving water, but I think they can hover and let someone get out.”
“Must be what they are trying to do. We're drifting toward them but we're not getting closer. As we drift downstream, they are moving downstream. I do not like this at all.”
“Me neither.” Tom could feel his heart pounding.
They watched as a figure climbed out of the helicopter and jumped into the water. The figure stood up and was about thigh deep in water when the helicopter lifted up and moved away it's rotors beating the water.
They slowly drifted toward the figure and as they came closer they were able to see it was a man. He had short brown hair and a bushy mustache, and his green jumpsuit was void of insignia or emblems of any kind.
Nice looking fella, thought Sandy, somewhat familiar looking. The haircut, although short, was too
stylish to be military, the sunglasses too expensive looking.
“Hi there.” He called out to them when the helicopter was at a comfortable distance and they could hear each other.
“Hello,” said Tom. “That's one helluva way to bum a ride. Helicopter is definitely faster than a canoe. What’s up?”
The man had found an even shallower spot. He waved for them to come over. They didn't have to paddle; the current carried them. He grabbed the bow of Sandy's canoe, but not for long. Tom climbed into the water and took control over both canoes.
“Hi there,” the man said. “My name is Jeff Craft. I'm from Camp Crowder. I need to ask you something. It's really urgent or we would not trouble you folks.”
Tom nodded for him to go ahead and looked at Sandy, his eyes begging her to keep her cool. Let’s just wait and see, he seemed to say to her.
“The military is conducting a top secret training exercise a bit upriver from here, and we had pretty much sealed off all roads leading to the river. We were surprised to see you folks out here. Would you mind telling me where you accessed the river and how long you've been out here?”
“Oh that's no real big secret, Jeff.” Tom scratched his head. “We paddled upriver for awhile and now we're just drifting back down. Had a couple of cold ones, and are just out here enjoying God's country. We're on the way home now. What's the problem?”
Oh my God, thought Jeff Craft, these are the same people I ran into earlier. And he said, “We just want to make sure there is no problem. One of our patrols reported a group of civilians on the river and thought they had drifted into the middle of a live fire exercise. We just want to make sure nobody got hurt. Would you mind giving me your names, sir?”
Tom looked past the man in the water and saw the end of the big bluff. Play along with him, he told himself. We are too close to the end now.
“Sure,” Tom smiled at the man. “I'm Roger Jones, these are my friends Susie and Joe Carmichael.”
“Nice to meet you, Roger. And Susie, Joe.” The man nodded in their direction.
“Nice to meet you too, Jeff.” Sandy could be civil if she wanted to be. Ralph just pushed his hat momentarily out of his face, glared at Jeff, then covered his eyes again pretending to be asleep.
“Where are you folks from?”
“St. Louis. We're teachers. High School, you know.”
“Teachers?” Jeff smiled, but his eyes remained cold. “My teachers never went canoeing. You all do this a lot?”
Sandy laughed. “No, we don't,” she said. “But during the summer months, running away seems to be the only way to regain our sanity. This way we can let our hair down. You know have a couple of cold beers and not worry about running into any of our students. Those inner city kids wouldn't leave their air conditioned sanctuaries at this time of year.” She laughed.
“What do you teach?”
“Oh, I teach biology. Susie teaches PE and Joe over there does math.”
“Impressive.”
Again Jeff smiled and again Sandy felt that the warmth of his smile did not match the iciness in his eyes.
“Have you folks seen anyone else out here? A larger group, more like six or more people?”
Jeff Craft carefully scanned the two canoes, trying hard not to be too obvious. Three people, two men and one woman. The two men were together in a canoe, the woman seemed to carry all the supplies, yet she is married to one. That one seems to have had quite a bit to drink, by the way he is lying in the canoe.
“No.” Tom shook his head and looked toward Sandy, who also shook her head. “But then we haven't been out here all that long and we're already on the way back.”
“I see. Would you mind giving me a phone number where I could reach you if I have any more questions? You know, you may have seen something and don't realize that it is of importance to me.”
Before Tom could say anything, Sandy spoke up: “Why, certainly Jeff, let me give you my home number. At least I have an answering machine. Do you have anything to write with?”
Jeff produced a small notebook and a pencil, and Sandy proceeded to give him what sounded like a legitimate St. Louis phone number.
“Thank you, Mrs. Carmichael. Sorry to have troubled you all and I hope you enjoy the rest of your trip.” He handed Tom a business card. “Please feel free to call me if you notice anything unusual.”
As if on cue, the helicopter approached them. Jeff turned and carefully waded through the water. He snatched at a rope ladder dangling from the aircraft. The tourists were once again alone.
“What did you make of that, Roger Jones?” Sandy had a tremble in her voice. “And by the way I hate the names, Susie and Joe? How did you dream them up?”
Tom shrugged, “I just didn't want him to have our real names, that's all. For some reason I just don't like that guy. So, if you don't mind, let's get out of here.”
Tom had already started to paddle again and they fiercely dug their paddles into the water.
“Sandy, look straight ahead, where the bluff ends right there.” He pointed, “Right there is our spot.”
Then the rock wall receded and gave way to a small sandy area.
“That's it. Oh baby, you are beautiful.”
Sandy picked up speed and Tom had to work hard to catch up with her.
Chapter 32
They beached the canoes. Tom carefully climbed out and pulled both further out of the water.
He looked around, Sam and Chris should be here by now. I hope this is the right place, he thought.
“Sandy, stay here with Ralph a moment. I want to make sure this is really it. Our welcoming committee hasn't rolled out the red carpet.”
“Hey, you want your shoes? They're over here.”
But Tom just waved her off. “Nah,” he yelled back. “I'll just be a minute.”
Wearing his thin, plastic canoeing sandals, he walked toward the trees. They certainly looked familiar. Okay, and now to the right and that should be his Blazer. Yes, there it was, nicely stashed under the trees. Supposed to be hidden from the burning rays of the sun, it was also effectively hidden from the helicopters. And right next to it, Ralph's old truck.
OW! Tom was startled by a sudden sharp pain in his left foot. He stopped and looked down just in time to see a snake vanish into the tall grass. Damn, he said to himself, all these years out in the woods, a damned snake bites me now. Why here and now on this godforsaken trip? Shit!
He sat down to take a closer look at his foot. I know better, he thought. I know better than to walk into tall grass with just flimsy sandals on. I could have made some noise. I know there are snakes around here. Damn! A closer look at his foot revealed a single bite mark on the outer edge of his left foot, at the base of the little toe. It was just about where the strap of the sandal had been. The area was already swelling and getting numb. Tom took a closer look at the shoe, and there in the rubber of the strap was a tiny hole. It was not deep enough to completely perforate the strap. That's good news, he told himself. I got bit by a snake, but only with one fang.
He reached into the Blazer's glove box, where Chris kept a well-stocked First Aid kit. He carefully cleansed the area around the fang mark, then covered the wound with a large Bandaid. Okay, he said to himself, now what? If I tell Sandy, she'll freak out. If I tell Ralph, he freaks out. So I'm damned if I do and damned if I don't. Shit! Why me, why now? And what kind of snake was it anyway? He couldn't remember. He felt dizzy when he stood up, and now he felt his heart racing.
He climbed into the car. The comforting scent of the familiar surroundings was almost overwhelming. He gripped the steering wheel, to give himself a chance to catch his breath. Then he turned the key and the engine came to life. At least you had the decency to bite me in my left foot, he said to the now-absent snake. He carefully drove across the field to get as close as possible to the canoes. The shorter the distance to Ralph, the better.
“What now?” He asked Sandy, without expecting an answer. “Sam and Chris should be
here by now. Let's load Ralph up and get back into town.”
Sandy looked at her watch.
“Yeah, I think so too. Let's load Ralph and figure out what to do about Marty. We can always come back for the canoes.”
Tom nodded. Marty! Damn, he had forgotten all about Marty.
