Frozen Footprints

by Therese Heckenkamp

  My mind flitted curiously over the “we,” then forgot it at the “running water” statement. How could anyone live without running water? I sniffed, and even through the cold, I detected a suspicious musty smell, an odor of dirt and dust and mold. Doubting Clay had anything I’d want to eat, particularly from a rusty old can, I responded, “Thanks, but all I really need is a phone.”

  “A phone?” He crumpled some balls of newspaper and tossed them into the stove’s belly. “Sorry, but we don’t have one. Up here we rough it. This is your basic hunting cabin, no luxuries, unless you count our old dryer, which hasn’t worked for years. I come here to get away from it all, live rustic-like.” Without turning to me, he indicated a chair. “Go ahead and have a seat.”

  I peered suspiciously at the tattered brown chair and brushed it off discreetly before sitting down. I gripped my gloved hands together tightly. “But you do have a cell phone somewhere, right?”

  “Somewhere, yeah, but not here. No signal,” he offered unhelpfully as he struck a match and lit the crumpled newspaper. Smoke soon puffed out of the stove. He added two small logs, angling them in an inverted “V,” before closing the stove door.

  While he remained crouched in front of the stove, I scanned the room with a sinking feeling. It was a man’s hunting cabin, to be sure. No curtains, no carpet, no tablecloth, and no decorations. Against the same wall as the wood stove stood a narrow bookshelf containing books and a small radio with a ridiculously long antennae, above which hung the mounted head of an unhappy deer. I began counting the points on the antlers. Ten.

  Leaning back in my chair, I saw a meager little kitchen with a tiny sink and an olive green fridge, an ugly remnant from the seventies, I assumed. “You have an oven.”

  “Yeah,” Clay conceded, “but we don’t usually use it.” There was that “we” again. I scanned the rest of the cabin, wondering suddenly if someone else was here right now. I spotted the useless dryer he had mentioned, as well as a trap door in the floor, which probably led to a cellar.

  Other than that, I saw, through a partially open door, what looked like a primitive bathroom. There was only one closed door, and I assumed it led to a bedroom. I was surprised to see a small floral wreath hanging on the door. Curious, I noticed it was made of red roses and ivy. Sheer white ribbon twined around it and draped from the bottom in two soft strands. Definitely a feminine touch, but the only one visible. Also definitely out of season. The flowers had to be silk. Clay’s probably married, I concluded, feeling oddly let-down.

  “This is our biggest luxury,” he said, flicking on a lantern. “It uses an LED.” He set the lantern on the worn table, then sat down in a creaky rocker as far from me as possible. “The room will warm up soon,” he said, keeping his eyes on what little bit of the fire could be seen through the stove’s door. I was surprised he didn’t continue the small talk or press me for details about why I was in the woods.

  Shifting uncomfortably, I looked over my shoulder and spotted a beady-eyed fox staring at me from a corner. It stood stiff and dead, forever frozen in stalking position. “Did you shoot that?”

  Clay’s eyes followed my gaze. “No, my brother did. He’s the big hunter; I mainly stick to fishing.”

  “Oh.” Suddenly I felt very aware that I was sitting in this dimly lit cabin with a strange man. I realized how much more comfortable I would feel with another woman here, stranger or not. I even began hoping Clay was married.

  “Where is your brother?”

  “Out hunting, probably. He wasn’t here when I arrived, didn’t know I was coming. So he’ll be surprised to see us.” A hint of nervousness seemed to shadow his words.

  I swallowed. “I should really be going.”

  “Already?”

  I was sure he sounded relieved.

  “You can’t be thawed out yet.”

  “I’m warm enough.” I stood. What now? I couldn’t call anyone to pick me up, and I didn’t want to walk out the door into the vast, cold, snowy void. I’d be no better off than before. Although I could follow the road, perhaps hitchhike. I shivered.

  “See, you are still cold. Sit back down and we’ll figure out how to get you home.”

  I remained standing. “All I really need is to get to town. I’m sure I could call someone from there.” Why don’t you offer to drive me?

  He plucked off his hat and rolled it in his hands. I struggled to keep my lips from twitching into a smile at his endearingly disheveled hair. The fact that he didn’t seem to realize how attractive he was only made him more attractive. Finally, he cleared his throat and looked at me. His eyes held uncertainty. “I could give you a ride.”

  I nodded and smiled. “That would be great, actually. If you don’t mind. I’m sorry I’m being so much trouble—”

  I flinched as the front door banged open unexpectedly, bringing with it a gust of arctic wind, snow, and a large man gripping a rifle. He filled the doorway. From his hair and deep-set eyes down to his coat and boots, he was nothing but darkness. His goatee gave him a devilish look. I shuddered and glanced at Clay, who appeared slender and weak compared to this guy. If this was the brother he had mentioned, I never would have guessed the relationship.

  As if on its own, the door slammed shut behind the beefy man. His boot smashed to the floor, and I realized he’d kicked the door shut. The room almost trembled.

  The man barely glanced at me before turning his face to Clay and demanding, “What are you doing here? You told me you couldn’t get away this week.”

  Clay stood up rather clumsily. “What’s the big deal, Abner? I got some unexpected days off and thought I’d come do some fishing.” He clenched his hat in his hand, knuckles going white. “You’ve never cared before.”

  A shadow rippled over Abner’s angry features as he stepped closer to Clay. “You’ve got rotten timing, kid. And since when have I said you could bring guests here?” Abner’s eyes jumped to me, and I almost jumped back. I’d never seen such black eyes. His leech-like lips curled. “But it might just work out for the best.”

  He was speaking to his brother, but the words were meant for me. The voice was terrifyingly familiar. “I’ll catch you eventually, girl.” My breath snagged in my throat as the truth came flying at me with horrific speed—the speed of a charging red pickup driven by an angry hulk of a man.

  This man.

  Carefully, I shifted my eyes to the cabin’s small front window, straining to see through the grimy pane. I made out the shape of a pickup parked under a tree. I couldn’t distinguish the color, but I knew with gut-wrenching certainty that it was red and rusty. My heart hammered violently. Sweat poured from my body.

  While the two brothers talked, I edged toward the door.

  “I’m sorry about bringing the girl here,” Clay said in a low voice, as if thinking I couldn’t hear him, “but she was lost, freezing . . . I didn’t know what else to do. I couldn’t leave her out there.” He cleared his throat and changed the subject. “So where were you all this time? Hunting?”

  “Yeah,” Abner said slowly, “hunting.”

  Trying too hard to sound casual, Clay asked, “Get anything?”

  “Sure did. Gave me a real fine chase, too. Almost thought I lost her, but then she made a mistake. A big mistake.”

  As Clay echoed, “A mistake?”, I darted for the door and ran smack into Abner’s broad chest. A grip of iron clenched my shoulder as if no coat or clothing padded my skin.

  “Yeah, a mistake,” Abner sneered. “She trusted you. And now here she is.” He gave me a shake that rattled my brain. “A real priceless treasure, this one. Can’t say I needed your help, Clay, but I appreciate it all the same.”

  “Let me go!” I demanded, kicking and striking wildly. In response to my struggling, Abner wrapped his entire thick arm around me and squeezed so I could barely move or breathe.

  Clay dropped his hat. His face paled. I tried to keep from passing out by focusing on the freckles that appeared on his nose.

 
; “What the heck, Abner? What are you doing? I—she—Abner, she can’t breathe!”

  “Not your concern.”

  My eyes pleaded for help. In response, Clay lunged toward Abner.

  Barely moving, Abner lifted his rifle. I watched dizzily as the butt of the rifle struck Clay’s head with a thwack. He staggered back and dropped to the floor with a groan.

  “You know better than to mess with me, boy. You got yourself into this, so you’re gonna have to put up with it. From now on, you do things my way.”

  Clay put a hand to his forehead and looked up slowly. Blood trickled down his temple like a red tear drop. Fear showed in his eyes.

  Thanks for trying, swam through my murky thoughts.

  A moment later, Abner sent me hurtling across the room. I knocked into Clay, and we both went sprawling. When Clay climbed to his feet, he pulled me up as well. Then we both stared down the barrel of Abner’s rifle.

  “Look Abner, I just want to know what’s going on.” Clay wiped the blood from his face and turned to me. “Who are you?”

  Rubbing my shoulder, I shook my head. “Nobody.”

  “Nobody.” Abner repeated the word, pleasure dripping from his voice. “How ironic. Hilarious, even.” He let out an alarming laugh that made me shrink inside myself. “I comb the woods for you, and you come to me.”

  “You’re crazy.” I took a deep breath. “You smash into my car, run me off the road, and chase me through the woods, all for tailgating you? Talk about road rage.” I held up my hands. “Just let me out of here now, and I won’t report this.”

  Again, the unnerving laugh. “I’m no fool, girl. I know exactly who you are and why you were following me. That was your big mistake, by the way. If you hadn’t followed me, I never would have run you off the road. Maybe if I caught you in the woods, I wouldn’t have recognized you because I would’ve smacked you around too quick. But now that I’ve seen you clearly, you don’t stand a chance. That arrogant Perigard face is unmistakable.”

  He paused, and then I heard it, exactly as I had on the phone, the evil whisper: “Hello, Charlene.”

  I swallowed.

  He chuckled. “Sound familiar? It’s thanks to you I discovered that phone on your brother. If you hadn’t called, I might not have found it and got rid of it in time.”

  I strangled a moan. “Fine. So you know who I am. Then you know why I followed you. Where’s Max? He’d better be all right.”

  Clay attempted to intervene with a question of some sort, but Abner saw it coming and silenced him with a sharp, “Shut it, boy. Think hard about whose side you’re on.”

  Clay’s eyes narrowed, but he closed his mouth.

  Still aiming the rifle, Abner addressed me. “And don’t be thinking about turning to my little brother for help. He knows where his loyalty lies. He’s got too much at stake to risk, and he knows it. Not that he could take me if he tried. He just demonstrated that very well.”

  Abner grinned, showing stained teeth. “He’ll make the right choice. He knows I can whoop him worse than our good ol’ dad used to. But you were asking about your brother, weren’t you? You want to know how he’s faring? Well then, why don’t we go pay him a little visit?”

  He waved his rifle. “That way. March. You too, Clay.”

  I didn’t have far to walk: Through the little kitchen, past the wreathed door, and past the narrow bathroom. I ended up facing a log wall. The rusty, chipped dryer—surprisingly large—sat in the corner to my right, and there was nowhere left to go.

  I’m facing a wall. My stomach plunged. He’s going to shoot me now.

  Chapter Nine

  “Quit staring at the wall like an idiot and turn around,” Abner ordered.

  My neck stiffened. I’d rather be shot in the back.

  But Abner’s tone compelled obedience. Slowly, savoring what might be my last breaths, I pivoted to face him. Clay stood to my left, near the dryer, and I noticed his ears flamed red.

  Abner still held the rifle aimed at us. Surely he wouldn’t shoot his own brother. I couldn’t fathom such a horrendous action, not when I was here for the sole purpose of rescuing my own brother. I bit my lip and waited, my eyes moving from the rifle to Abner’s high forehead and lank, greasy hair.

  “See those keys?” He indicated a row of three keys dangling from a wooden duck-shaped key rack hanging on the wall to my right. “Get the middle one.”

  Obeying, I slid the key from the hook. Two keys remained on the rack. What do these unlock? Torture chambers?

  “Clay, move away from the dryer,” Abner barked. “Girl, open the dryer.”

  I gaped stupidly, trying to make sense of this. Abner had said we were going to see Max, but—what in the world did a dryer have to do with anything? He prodded me with the rifle. “Go on.”

  Curious despite myself, I pried at the edge of the dryer door. I gulped down a sickening urge to laugh. What, is Max being kept prisoner inside of here? A dryer—a hide-and-seek spot for toddlers, not teens. A dryer—a place where socks get lost, not people. The metal door seemed stuck, but suddenly swung open on squeaky hinges. Leaning down, I saw that the interior was empty, the metal finish scuffed. Yet it was the back of the dryer that drew my attention, a large round metal door, like a portal, secured with a padlock.

  “What the—” Clay began.

  Abner cut him off. “Unlock it, girl.”

  So I climbed awkwardly into the dryer. My boots protruded as I knelt uncomfortably on the curved metal. I fumbled in the dimness of my own shadow to fit the key in the padlock, but once I lined it up, it slipped in easily. I turned it, heard a click, and the padlock snapped open.

  “Toss the key back out here.”

  I did as Abner said, and the key clattered to the floor. I watched Clay pick it up and, as if he wanted to prevent Abner from ordering him to do it, promptly hung it back on the hook.

  “Now push the door open,” Abner told me.

  I splayed my gloved fingers and pressed the metal. It swung back easily into thick blackness, and I drew back instinctively, fearing a fall. I swallowed, dreading Abner’s next demand.

  It came swiftly. “Climb down. There’s a rope ladder hanging from the opening. You can use that,” he added, as if offering a luxury.

  Imagining all sorts of horrors, I whispered, “But I don’t know what’s down there.”

  “Do it, or I’ll throw you down.”

  Without thinking, I made the sign of the cross, surprising myself that the action came so naturally. Then I turned and lowered my legs into the seemingly bottomless pit. A fierce coldness clutched at my legs as I searched gingerly with my clumsy boots to find the rope ladder. I couldn’t help thinking how ironic it was to be entering this frigid environment from a dryer, the abode of warm fluffy towels, woolen socks, and cozy sweatshirts. My toes sank onto a taught rope, and I braced myself for the blind climb down.

  Yet I lingered with my head in the dim light, not wanting to leave it, afraid I’d never see light again. Apparently satisfied that I was doing as told, Abner addressed Clay. “Your turn.”

  “Abner, no.”

  From my low view, I saw Clay take a step back, but I couldn’t see his expression.

  “Sorry, kid.” Abner sounded anything but sorry. “You brought this on yourself. Maybe next time you’ll think twice before crossing me.” He jabbed Clay with the rifle until he ducked into the dryer.

  I moved down the ladder to make room for him and tried not to panic at the swaying of the rope. How much farther? I wondered as I descended, and yet—I feared reaching the bottom. I tried not to imagine what I’d find, wanting to find my brother, yet fearing what condition he might be in.

  I hadn’t realized that rope could creak, but this one did. I looked up to see Clay had stopped climbing down. “Abner,” he called, “you can’t expect me to be on your side if you don’t explain any of this. I don’t have a clue what’s going on.” I assumed that the brave confrontational tone of his voice came from the fact that he wa
s no longer standing within arm’s reach of Abner.

  The rifle appeared, pointing down from the opening. “You never were very bright, were you, Clay?” Abner began speaking very slowly, as if to a moron. “It’s very simple. I kidnapped this girl’s twin brother, Max Perigard. Don’t tell me you haven’t heard of the famous, disgustingly wealthy Perigards?”

  “Kidnapped,” Clay broke in. “Man, Abner, that’s—”

  “Don’t interrupt,” Abner growled. “Obviously, I’m smart enough not to get caught. In fact, I picked up the ransom today, and that’s when the girl decided to try and follow me. Like I said before, big mistake. Now that I’ve got her to take care of, old man Perigard is gonna have to pay double.”

  The rifle wavered slightly. “I never intended for you to get involved in this. I purposely planned the kidnapping for a week when I knew you couldn’t make it here—so your time in the hole is your own fault. Think about that while I go count my money.”

  With a clunk, the door slammed shut, and we were plunged into utter darkness.

  Above me, Clay cursed.

  I almost joined in. Then I thought, Why make it more like hell than it already is? I resumed my descent into the black pit.

  “He descended into hell,” my mind chanted, snagging a line from the Apostle’s Creed, “the third day He rose again from the dead . . .”

  A prayer, but I felt no consolation.

  I’d thought I was cold before, but the coldness I felt now rattled through my body and threatened to shatter my bones. I was thankful I hadn’t shed my winter gear in the cabin.

  At last I felt solid ground beneath my boots. Dirt-packed ground, I figured from the rough, uneven lay of it as I inched forward carefully, my arms outstretched. The waiting silence made the back of my neck prickle, despite my scarf.

  “Max?” I called into the nothingness. “Max?” I intended it to come out sounding confident, not as this weak whisper. “Max?”

  No response.

  My gloved fingertips brushed a wall, also solid earth, I assumed, and I followed it several feet till I came to a far corner. My boot struck a firm, yet yielding, form. My heart leapt into my throat, choking my words. “Max, is that you?” I yanked off a glove and felt the form—shoulders, neck, head—definitely a person. But the skin on the face—so clammy and cold. “He’s frozen, he’s dead!” I cried, a rush of emotion devastating me.