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Caldera

Page 9

by Heath Stallcup


  “Hello?” he called out carefully. “I’m here to help you.”

  The feet shifted in the woods, but refused to come out. Fisher stepped to the side and flashed the light deeper into the darkness, hoping to catch a glimpse of who or what was out there. He knew that these woods were full of numerous nocturnal creatures and that just about any of them could be making the noise, but he also knew that most of Yellowstone’s nocturnal wildlife took off when faced with humans.

  He stepped gingerly toward the source of the noise and lifted the light higher, hoping to bring it over the top of the brush this time. He peered through the dense foliage and thought he caught a glimpse of something moving, but it quickly passed from view. He grunted and shoved his hand into the bush and pulled the limb aside to get a better look. The light fell from above and illuminated the area below to reveal nothing but more brush and rocks. Fisher slowly let the limb slide back when the light reflected off something wet. He pulled the limb back again and angled the beam to the left to catch the reflection once more. He let his eyes linger on a cluster of leaves, where a dark smear of reddish brown liquid pooled and dripped from them.

  Dwayne leaned into the brush and ran his finger along the leaf, drawing it back and pulling his fingers to his nose. With a slight sniff, he confirmed it as blood. He checked the viscosity by running his other finger across it to tell if it had begun to congeal. It was still runny and thin.

  Fresh.

  His ears heard a pitter and patter and he quickly turned the light back to the cluster of leaves. More leaves were covered with the blood and he saw yet another leaf become covered, the blood splattering as it hit. His eyes scanned the area, then, slowly it dawned on him.

  Up.

  His eyes slowly rose with the light as it lit up the large tree behind the bush. He followed it up and into the branches. He saw not just one, but two branches with blood running across it and dripping down to the cluster of leaves below.

  Fisher flashed the light higher into the tree and saw a slight movement…a shift of…something. He squinted in the darkness as he tried to make out just what he was looking at. As his eyes tried to make out what he was staring at, something launched itself with a hair-raising scream. Fisher jerked backwards as he startled and collapsed to the ground as he was tackled by a naked, filth-covered woman, her teeth clacking as she snapped and bit at him.

  Dwayne’s arm came up automatically in a defensive move to ward off his attacker, his knee finding her softer middle. Her quick attack had knocked the wind from him, but the adrenaline pumping through his system was making for a quick recovery as his mind raced through possible actions. Fisher reached for his dropped flashlight, and his hand wrapped around the heavy barrel of the Maglite. With one hand braced against the woman’s throat and his knee pushing her farther away, he kept her from reaching him with her bloody mouth. Her arms kept swishing at his face in angry swipes and he could feel the wind from each swing as she scratched for his face.

  Dwayne brought the flashlight up as hard as he could and connected with the side of her head, at the same time pushing her as hard as he could with his legs, launching her to the side and away from him. Fisher rolled to the side and away from the crazed woman and got to his knees, sucking in air as he tried to recover from her surprise attack. As he sat there on the back of his heels, resting the majority of his weight on his knees, he studied the woman lying in the dirt. Her breathing came in quick and rapid pants, her fingers twitching as if she were somehow short circuiting.

  He crawled to his feet and coughed, hacking the dust and dirt from the forest floor from his throat. Leaning against a tree, he forced himself to stand erect and cautiously approached the filthy woman sprawled across the pine needle strewn ground. He clicked his light a few more times and beat it against the palm of his hand until the light flickered back on. He flashed the beam toward her and assessed her as she lay prone.

  She was covered in both fresh and dried blood, and numerous scratches and abrasions covered her arms and legs and her exposed abdomen. She had very large breasts, and Fisher had to admit, had she been scrubbed clean, she would probably be very attractive. He noted a wedding ring on her left hand and somehow that struck him as odd. He moved closer and pulled a strand of muddy and matted hair from her face. He could tell that, even with all of the blood and dirt on her face, she had been quite the looker before she took her trip down acid lane.

  As Dwayne’s hand hovered near her face, he could feel the heat radiating from her and he cautiously touched the back of two fingers to her forehead. My God, she’s burning up. He sat back a moment and wondered if possibly she was delirious from some kind of fever…when she stirred. Fisher felt panic start to rise in his chest and he reached for his flex cuffs. Better to keep her subdued than risk her getting away again…the cuffs weren’t on his belt!

  His eyes scanned the area where they’d scuffled and couldn’t see the white plastic cuffs anywhere. He glanced to the four-wheeler and the black plastic saddle bags attached to the rear. He quickly got to his feet and made for the all-terrain vehicle. He shoved the flashlight under his arm and lifted the lid on the nearest bag. Rifling through the plastic container, he found some fishing line, and some light twine and pliers. He made for the other side and quickly double-checked the naked woman lying on the ground. She still appeared out of it, and he quickly lifted the lid on the other bag. Digging through the contents, he pulled out a first aid kit, a rain poncho, and assorted odds and ends, but he couldn’t find any flex cuffs.

  Dwayne sighed and quickly went back to the site of the scuffle. He searched the area in and around where he found the blood, but the cuffs weren’t to be found.

  “Dammit,” he muttered. “I’ll just have to use twine or—”

  A shuffling sound cut him off mid-thought. He turned quickly to find the woman standing right behind him. Her blood-red eyes staring directly at his throat. Fisher’s eyes settled on her face and he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing when he gazed at her eyes. She opened her mouth, and the primitive scream that erupted sent the hair on the back of his neck on end.

  His hand went to his holster just as she launched herself for his neck.

  “Understood,” Hatcher said into his radio. He waved his arm to direct the other EMS unit around some of the parked cars and helped them to navigate through the cramped parking areas in order to assist the first unit sent to the campgrounds. As the second unit rolled off-scene, Hatcher turned to Shelly. “I don’t know if all those campers were hurt by the same person or a group of people, but this is getting out of hand.”

  “Didn’t Fisher go after her?” Shelly asked.

  “Yeah, but I haven’t heard from him.” Hatcher marched toward the vehicle lockup. “He’s not answering his radio, either.”

  Shelly stepped ahead of Hatcher and stood in front of the locked gate. “Hold on, Hatch.” She held him short of the locked gate. “Tell me you aren’t leaving this fuster cluck to go look for Dwayne?”

  “Somebody or a group of somebodies is out there hurting campers, Shell. We’ve got two groups of EMTs up there trying to help them, and that still may not be enough.” He pointed to the concert. “These idiots are either too drunk or too stoned to cause much more trouble, and we have enough support from the other stations and the county boys to make sure it’s in hand.” He turned back to face her and caught her eye. “Mitch is here, and he can handle anything this crowd can throw at him. Besides, nobody knows those woods like I do.”

  She studied him for a moment before sighing and stepping aside. “I’m coming with you,” she drawled as she pulled out her own keys to unlock the padlock to the vehicles. “If it’s a crowd, you may need backup.”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  “Famous last words.” Shelly swung the gate open. “You said Fisher didn’t answer the radio, and we both know that he’s too anal and eager to please to let anything with his gear go wrong. He’s either in trouble, or his gear failed.” She turned an
d hiked a brow at him. “And our gear doesn’t fail.”

  Hatcher considered her logic and then nodded. “Okay, but stay on my tail. The way we’re going, it will be too easy to get lost if we’re separated.”

  They both mounted their ATVs and pulled them from the lockup. Hatcher shut the gate and locked it to prevent any of the passersby from getting the wild idea to go for a joyride in the wild. He mounted again and pulled his gloves on, staring one last time at the crowd and the mix of law enforcement patrolling the perimeter.

  He turned to Shelly once more. “Remember, stay on my tail. If you lose sight of me, lay on the horn or something to get my attention. The trail we’re taking isn’t easy, and it isn’t marked well. There are spots where…well, just stay close.”

  “Got it.” She nodded and revved her engine.

  Hatcher kicked the ATV into gear and turned along the backside of the buildings, cutting through the woods in a way that Shelly had never gone. She had always wondered how he could simply appear and then disappear on them when they were in different areas of the park. She had often joked he was like a ghost; he could simply show up without a sound, then disappear again without notice. Rumors had been whispered among the other rangers that he had once been a special forces operative or that he had special training with the CIA, but she was now beginning to think he had just been at the park so long and had been so bored that he had explored every inch of it that he could, discovering shortcuts through the place to different areas that he could use to maximize his energy and time.

  True to her word, she stayed on his tail and, within heartbeats, they emerged through the thick woods on the lower end of the campground. As he pulled his ATV through the brush, he slowed and pulled to the side of what was obviously a clearing beyond the edge of the campsites. Shelly pulled alongside and they drove side by side, using their mounted lights to search for the injured and for any sign of the attackers.

  Hatcher rolled forward and slowed when he saw two people approaching. “Have there been any campers injured down this way?” he asked.

  The two looked at each other and shrugged. “Not that I know of, Ranger,” the taller man said, shifting firewood in his arms.

  The shorter man hooked his jaw behind them, “I thought I saw some flashing lights up the hill a bit. Maybe there was trouble up that way.”

  Hatcher nodded to the two and mumbled a ‘thanks’ as he thumbed the accelerator. Shelly fell in behind him and came up along his side.

  “The road branches up here,” Hatcher yelled above the sound of the engines. “Take the fork to the right and run it about a quarter mile. If you see anything, radio me.”

  Shelly gave him a curt nod and accelerated past him, veering off at the fork. Hatcher watched her lights fade for a moment, then continued up the path. As he slowly approached the next set of campers, he could make out the red and blue lights reflecting off the trees and tents as he slowed the ATV. He continued to search the area and looked for any signs of more injured.

  Hatcher stopped the ATV and dismounted at the ambulance. He peeked inside the tent next to the rig and saw a body sprawled across the floor and blood sprayed across the interior of the tent. He quickly pulled his head back and stifled the bile that rose in the back of his throat. He leaned over and spit, pulling air through his nostrils to clear the smell of blood and death. When he felt that he had control again, he slowly rose up and nearly stumbled as he stepped to the rear of the ambulance.

  “What the hell happened back—?”

  His eyes settled on a scene of gore in the rear of the ambulance that left him speechless. One of the EMTs had obviously been torn apart, the dark blue jumpsuit-covered body lay broken and twisted, hanging out the rear of the ambulance, blood dripping from the stainless-steel step-bumper. Hatcher stepped back and drew his weapon as his eyes scanned the surrounding area. He quickly scanned the tents and the campsites and only then realized the lack of people at the sites.

  Daniel slowly worked his way to the front of the ambulance and checked the inside of the unit. Empty. He gingerly stepped back toward the ATV and kept slowly making circles as his eyes scanned the surrounding woods.

  “Where are all the people?” he muttered to himself.

  His radio hissed to life and he jumped. “Hatch, come in!” Shelly’s voice barked urgently.

  He pulled the radio up and keyed the mic, “Go for Hatcher.”

  “You better get over here quick.” There was a touch of panic in her voice. “I found Fisher’s four-wheeler, but he’s nowhere to be found.”

  Hatcher moved toward the ATV and mounted it. “Are there tracks? Maybe he went out on foot?” He started the ATV again.

  “There’s too much blood, Hatch.” Shelly sounded like she was about to lose it as Hatcher kicked the ATV into gear and spun the machine around.

  “I’m on my way, Shell. Hold tight.”

  Hatcher clipped his radio back on his belt then paused, glancing back at the ambulance. Shaking his head at the memory of the carnage, he pulled his radio once more and switched frequencies, calling for the sheriff’s deputies. He waited for a callback that didn’t come. He assumed they would have earbuds in place to compensate for the noise of the concert and muttered a curse when they didn’t respond.

  Hatcher changed frequencies once more and keyed the radio, “County Mobile Unit, come in.”

  A static-filled hiss keyed up and a female voice responded. Hatcher sighed and quickly filled the dispatcher in on what he discovered with the ambulance and requested that a deputy be dispatched to the location while he went in search of his missing ranger. After receiving an affirmative, Hatcher started the ATV again and pushed the unit to its limit as he slid across the rocks and gravel back to the fork in the road. He slid the little all-terrain vehicle around the corner and opened it back up full throttle, jumping small hills and sliding through curves until he saw the light from Shelly’s ATV ahead. He kept the throttle wide open until he knew he’d have to start braking or risk shooting past her. He slid the ATV to a stop and was off the machine before the engine even came to a complete stop.

  “Show me!” he barked as he brought his flashlight to bear.

  Shelly waved him over to where Fisher’s four-wheeler sat idle and illuminated the area with her own flashlight. “This is what freaked me out,” she said softly.

  Daniel hunkered low and used a stick to stir through the blood, trying to gauge the amount by how thick it soaked into the earth. Shelly stood behind him and observed. “It looks like a lot, Hatch.”

  Hatcher nodded. “It is.” He rested his arm across his knee and stared at the ground surrounding the large bloodstain. “Looks like there was a hell of a struggle, or a fight, or…”

  He squinted in the low light and brought his flashlight back up. He stood up and walked around the blood pool to the other side. Using his toe, he poked at something just under the dead pine needles, then bent down and picked up a pistol.

  “Is this Fisher’s?” he asked disbelievingly.

  Shelly gasped as he lifted it into the air and blew the dirt and pine needles away from it. Hatcher lifted it to his nose and sniffed. No smell of burnt powder, so it hadn’t been fired. “He didn’t shoot it if it’s his.”

  “It’s his,” she said softly. “He carries a 1911. I’ve admired it more than once.” She turned away and stepped back to the four-wheelers, visibly shaken.

  “Just because his gun is out here doesn’t mean this blood is his.” Hatcher tried to put her at ease.

  Shelly turned and set a stern gaze at him. “Don’t,” she said bluntly. “Just…don’t.”

  “Shelly, I—”

  “Hatch, he was very proud of that weapon, and he’d never let it stay if he…” Her eyes drifted back to the dark spot on the ground. “If he were able, he’d still have it on him.”

  Hatcher knew she was right, he just didn’t know how else to put her mind at ease. He pulled the magazine from the weapon and put it in his pocket, then cleared the c
hamber. “Well, I’m not giving up on him just yet.” He set his jaw firmly. “Fish is a good ranger and a savvy fella. Just because we found his weapon doesn’t mean that he’s out of the picture.” He flipped open the plastic hard case on the back of his ATV and set the weapon in it. “When he shows up looking all ragged and worn out, he’ll be happy we found this.”

  Shelly lowered her eyes to the ground and fought not to cry. Dwayne was a friend and a coworker. She’d known that he had a crush on her, but she just wouldn’t allow him to get that close. She had other interests that prevented her from allowing him to get close to her. She glanced at Hatcher and reminded herself why.

  “So, what do we do now?”

  Hatcher glanced back at the dark spot, then at her. “We stick to the plan. We have to find whoever it is that is attacking the campers and get them into custody.”

  Shelly paused at her ATV and looked back at Hatcher. “Do you think she might be the one who attacked Fisher?”

  Hatcher climbed back onto his ATV and turned the key. “Do you really think that a naked woman…any naked woman could get the best of Fisher? Dwayne Fisher? OUR Dwayne Fisher?” he asked almost jokingly, hoping to ease her mind slightly. “The man is a walking mountain. The only person I know bigger than Fisher is Mitch Richardson, and he’s just a freak of nature.” He chuckled. “That guy should have been a linebacker with the NFL, but they wouldn’t take him. He kept scaring the other players!” he joked as he started the ATV.

  “I think we missed something,” Bill said as he stopped and looked back where they had just come. They had passed at least seven tents and four RVs, and none had seen or heard anything from the woman, nor had they any clue what he was talking about when he asked if anyone was hurt. “I think she must have cut through the woods or something.”

 

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