Stranger in the Woods

by Geof Johnson

  Zach forced himself not to rush as he walked down the steps to the basement, and when he reached the bottom, he looked back up the stairs to make sure his mother wasn’t following him.

  He went into the lab and his grandfather glanced at him from the workbench and said, “I see you have the log book. Did you find anything?”

  Zach could barely contain himself. “I think so.” He pointed to the entry, and Grandpa squinted as he tried to read it. He shook his head. “Can’t make a lick of sense of it.”

  “You want me to get my magnifying glass? That’s how I finally found it.”

  “Just read it to me.”

  Zach did while his grandfather listened intently. When he finished, Zach said, “Doesn’t that sound like what we’re looking for?”

  “Definitely.” A smile spread across his wrinkled face. “Are the settings for the control station in there, too? The ones for that session?”

  Zach tapped a row of capital letters and numbers on a different part of the page. “I’m pretty sure these are the ones.”

  “Pretty sure? What if they’re not?”

  “That would be a problem, but Uncle Nicholas usually kept that kind of stuff together in his entries. He was very methodical, remember?”

  “That sounds like the way he’d do it.” He patted Zach on the shoulder. “Good job. Did you find anything else that might be helpful?”

  “Um….” Zach took a moment to think. “Yeah. A couple of pages before this one, Uncle Nicholas wrote about experimenting with the cylinders by putting things inside them to see what would happen when he turned on the machine. He was using stuff like cabbages and watermelons.”

  “Did he mention if it worked?”

  “Some of the time they disappeared, but they didn’t do what he wanted them to, which was travel from one cylinder to the other. He wasn’t sure if they went somewhere else or just disintegrated.”

  “Disintegrated.” Grandpa frowned deeply. “That’s not good. Though the Pentagon would’ve been happy with that result, I bet, because they could’ve used it as a weapon. Does Uncle Nicholas ever say who the mysterious General H was?”

  “Not that I’ve been able to find. Maybe I could Google him. I could search for all the generals who were active in the service back then, couldn’t I?”

  “Ah…it’s not that important. Most likely he’s passed away by now, so it’s not like we could contact him or anything. Some of Uncle Nicholas’s research was probably classified anyway. Might still be, knowing the military like I do.”

  “Do you ever wish you had stayed in the Army longer? You might’ve been promoted.”

  “I wasn’t officer material. My brother was, but…you know.”

  He got killed. They both grew silent for a moment until Zach’s mother called to them from the top of the stairs.

  Grandpa cupped his hand to his mouth and replied, “We’ll be right up.” He turned to Zach and gestured at the log book, which Zach still had in his hands. “Make sure you write down the settings from that entry, the ones for the control station.”

  “I’ll make a backup copy, too. I didn’t want to take any chances.”

  Zach could hardly wait to tell his friends what he’d found in the log book. He zoomed through dinner, despite his mother’s nagging to slow down, and then washed the dishes as fast as he could before hurrying up to his room, where he’d left his cell phone.

  He eased his door closed and dialed the number for the Rosses’ house, but got no answer. They’re probably not back from Asheville yet. He sagged in his chair at his desk, thinking about what his friends had gone through that day.

  He tried to imagine what it was like for them, visiting the prison, but it was hard because it was unlike anything he had ever experienced. Shelby had tried to describe it to him once. She said it was scary, and everything was concrete and steel and dingy and ugly. The leers and catcalls she got were creepy and disgusting, and she hated them, and she hated the feeling of danger and violence that seemed to radiate from everywhere.

  Jason and Justin tried to act tough about it, but Zach knew they hated going to the prison, too. More than anything, they were ashamed, though they’d never admit it. They worked too hard at showing a rough exterior to let it show. Zach wasn’t fooled. He knew them too well, now. It took a hard toll on all of them, being the children of a convict.

  Zach leaned his head back and sighed deeply. I hope their dad gets out, soon.

  Chapter 41

  The next week passed without the second batch of tubes arriving in the mail, and Zach and his friends only had one job, and that was on Thursday for pulling weeds. They wanted to help in the lab on Saturday, but once again Grandpa told them he needed to work by himself. “You’ll just be in the way,” he told them, which was becoming an old refrain.

  With nothing else to do, they decided to go to the woods. They rode their bikes to the dead end street, Zach with his new bow slung across his back, Justin carrying the quiver full of arrows, Shelby holding Beepee on the leash, and Jason leading the way.

  They pedaled to the spot where they usually hid their bikes off the path, and had just stashed them behind the bushes when they heard two men’s voices in the distance. Jason dropped to a crouch and motioned for them to do likewise. Zach smelled something rank on the faint breeze: cigarettes and body odor. He whispered, “Uncle Marty?”

  Jason nodded and held out his hand for quiet while they squatted low behind the thick brush. Beepee began to growl and Zach clamped his hand over her snout, put his mouth beside her ear and murmured, “No, Beepee. You have to hush.” He looked into her eyes and she seemed to understand, so he released his grip and she became as quiet as the rest of them.

  Marty and his companion, however, were anything but quiet. They talked boisterously as they walked down the trail. Soon they passed the spot where Zach and his friends were hiding, and Zach caught a glimpse of them through the bushes. They dressed identically, all camo — hats, coats, pants, and boots — and carried rifles with scopes.

  Zach and his friends remained deathly still while the men walked by, and Beepee made no sound. He felt his pulse racing and realized he’d been holding his breath, and he waited until Marty and his friend were gone before exhaling.

  “Wonder what those two idiots are up to?” Shelby said in a cautious voice.

  “They’re up to no good, is what,” Justin spat. “Couple a’ jerks. You know good and well they don’t have hunting permits, especially Uncle Marty.”

  “They can’t hunt now, anyway,” Jason said. “Nothing’s in season in this county.”

  “Uncle Marty don’t care,” Justin said.

  Jason gestured with his thumb. “Let’s follow them.”

  “Are you crazy?” Zach said. “They have guns.”

  “They ain’t gonna see us. We’re gonna do like Bo taught us and be real sneaky. You can do that, can’t you?”

  “Of course I can.” Zach lifted his chin. “Can you?”

  “We all can, if Beepee will be quiet.”

  “She will be,” Shelby said and patted her on the back. “Won’t you, girl?”

  Beepee answered with a couple of fwips of her tail, and Jason motioned forward with one hand. “Stay close.” He led them out of their hiding place and onto the trail that their uncle and his friend had taken.

  They crept along, silent stalkers, and somewhere ahead of them, Zach could hear the voices of the two hunters. Zach adjusted his bow across his back and whispered, “What are we doing this for?”

  Jason turned and said, “To see what they’re up to. If it’s something bad, maybe we can do something about it.”

  “Like what?” Zach got no answer, and they continued to make their way after the men. It wasn’t hard to follow them. Zach could’ve done it even without the special training Bo had given him. The illicit hunters were loud as fire alarms. How are they going to get any game like that? They’ll scare all the animals away. Then he realized that was a good thing, because they
couldn’t kill anything if they couldn’t find it. “This is crazy,” he whispered again. “They’re gonna shoot us by mistake, thinking we’re deer or something.” Again, no one responded, so he tagged along, grudgingly.

  Zach’s group seemed to be closing the gap, and Jason led them off the trail into the thicket. It seemed easy to maneuver through the trees and bushes and briars, and Zach couldn’t tell if they were parting for him, or if he and his friends had gotten better at finding their way. Maybe both, he decided.

  No snapped twig, no rustle of leaves. Zach and his three friends made no noise. They were now close enough to listen to the men talk, even though they were hidden by the brush.

  “Hey,” Uncle Marty said. “You hear that?”

  Zach’s group froze in place.

  “What you ’spose it is?” the other hunter said.

  “It’s something big, and I think it’s just ahead somewhere. Let’s go check it out.”

  Zach and the others looked to Jason to see what they should do, and he signaled for them to continue following. They stole in the direction the two men had gone, and soon heard them again.

  “I swear,” Uncle Marty said, “it’s a damn bear!”

  “Where?” his buddy said.

  “Yonder, on the other side of the clearing.” Then Marty whistled softly. “With two cubs. This is our lucky day.”

  Shelby’s eyebrows drew down sharply. “We can let them shoot a mama bear and her cubs!”

  “How are we gonna stop ’em?” Justin said.

  Jason gestured at Zach. “You got your bow. You’re gonna have to shoot ’em.”

  “Oh, no.” Zach shook his head firmly. “I’m not doing that.”

  “Then I’ll do it.”

  “We only have target arrows.”

  “I didn’t say we had to kill ’em, just injure ’em so they can’t use they’re rifles. But you’re the best shot. You should do it, ’cause if I miss, they might kill us.”

  “Your uncle would do that? His own flesh and blood?”

  “He might, if he’s mad enough. So just shoot fast and we’ll run.”

  “That’s insane!” Zach hissed.

  “If you don’t, they’ll kill the bears. Bo will never forgive us if we don’t do something.”

  Shelby stepped close to Zach, almost touching him. “It’s a mama bear. And her babies. We have to help them. We just have to.”

  “Uh….” Zach looked into her pleading eyes and felt his opposition crumble. “Maybe we won’t have to. Maybe we can scare the bears off.”

  Jason and Justin exchanged one of their telepathic glances, and Justin said, “We gotta get close enough to see what’s going on.”

  They tiptoed to the edge of the thicket, and beyond it was a clearing, about fifty yards across, where the trees thinned to almost nothing and the ground was mostly covered in tall, brown weeds and a few low shrubs. Uncle Marty and his friend were on the near side, and hurrying away from them was a black bear with her young. She glanced over her burly shoulder at the men and chuffed, then guided her two cubs to the nearest tree, a tall pine, where they began scrambling up the trunk while their mother waited below.

  Zach and his friends dropped to the ground and watched, and Zach slipped his bow from his back and clutched it in one hand. He heard the sound of a rifle being cocked, and Uncle Marty said, “This’ll be a piece of cake. We’ll take out the mama first, and the young ’uns will be easy pickings.”

  His buddy glanced at his feet and shook his head. “We’ll go to jail if we get caught.”

  “Who’s gone catch us? Nobody out here ’cept you and me. Besides, we got our huntin’ knives. We’ll skin ’em right here and take their hides back with us. Those will be easier to carry and we can sell ’em for good money.”

  “For sure?”

  “Damn straight. Now cock your gun and let’s kill ’em while we got the chance.”

  “Zach!” Shelby whispered fiercely and poked him in the arm.

  Zach watched as the mother bear turned to confront the two hunters, tossing her head with a roar and preparing to charge them, making an easier target for the men. Run away! Zach wanted to shout to her, but couldn’t. The other man cocked his gun and Zach knew he had to make a decision, and fast.

  “Give me an arrow,” he whispered to Justin, who pulled one from the quiver he still carried and handed it to him. Zach stood and nocked it to his bow, took a deep breath and raised it. The hunters had leveled their weapons. Zach knew it was only a matter of seconds before it would be too late.

  “Hurry!” Jason whispered intently.

  Zach swallowed hard and drew. He glanced at the mother bear, trying to think of a way to shoot near her to frighten her away, but with her cubs on a branch above her, that wasn’t likely. She would hold her ground, he knew.

  “Shoot now!” Justin said.

  Forgive me. Zach prepared to release the string. But the moment before he let go, something smacked into Uncle Marty’s gun from the side, knocking it askew with a deep thunk, while he cried out. Almost instantly, something struck the other man’s rifle, and he grunted sharply.

  Arrows now protruded from each weapon and both men were cursing and looking closely at their hands. Uncle Marty said, “Damn. Nicked my trigger finger.”

  “Mine, too,” his partner said and put his hand to his mouth. A thin stream of red trickled down his knuckles.

  Marty wiped his bloody finger on his coat and examined his weapon. “Somebody done shot us both. A friggin’ bow hunter.” He glanced at his friend’s gun. “In the exact same place. Look at that.” The arrows were jammed in, sticking out at right angles. Marty yanked on the feathered shaft and snarled, “Won’t come out. I think he ruined my damn gun. I’m gonna kill that sumbitch.” He scanned the edge of the clearing and Zach ducked out of sight.

  That must’ve been Bo. Nobody else could’ve made those shots.

  Another arrow zipped just past the men and stuck into a nearby tree trunk, causing both men to flinch. “You missed that time, asshole!” the other man shouted defiantly to the woods. A second arrow followed and joined the first, then a third and a fourth came in rapid succession. They were imbedded in a perfect vertical line, equidistant apart, as if someone had carefully measured with a ruler and a plumb level. It’s a warning, Zach realized.

  “Damn,” Uncle Marty grunted. “He didn’t miss. He hit exactly what he meant to.” He and his friend exchanged wide-eyed looks, then turned and scrambled headlong toward the trail, back the way they’d come.

  Once the crashing sounds of their flight tapered off, the cubs shimmied down the tree trunk and joined their mother, and together they loped into the brush in the opposite direction.

  “Geez,” Jason said slowly. “Can you believe that?”

  “Bo’s got to be here somewhere,” Shelby said, and they looked around for the giant.

  Moments later he appeared at the edge of the clearing, holding his bow at his side. He calmly walked to the tree where his arrows were stuck, and he began pulling them free one at a time, as easily as if they were imbedded in a bale of hay. “It is safe now,” he called. “They are gone.”

  Zach and his friends stepped from the thicket with Beepee, who barked once at Bo and wagged her tail.

  “You knew those men were here, didn’t you,” Zach said.

  “The forest told me. It does not like them.”

  “Neither do we,” Jason said.

  “I tried to get the mother bear to run away, but her mind was in a panic and she did what her instincts told her to do, which is to protect her cubs. I was forced to do something, and disabling their weapons seemed the best choice.”

  “Those were two great shots,” Zach said.

  “I was worried about the second one. If the other man had moved his weapon while the arrow was in flight, I might’ve missed my mark.”

  “Do you know anything about guns?” Justin said.

  “A couple of my trading partners have them, and one of them took h
is apart and showed me its workings. I felt that my bow was powerful enough to penetrate them, or at least do enough damage to keep them from firing.”

  Jason grinned. “You scared the crap out of ’em. Uncle Marty and his buddy are probably still running.”

  “One of them is your relative?”

  “Um, yeah, but we ain’t proud of it.”

  “He is not like you,” Bo said simply.

  “I hope not,” Shelby said.

  Bo led them to a fallen tree, and they sat on the trunk while he settled cross-legged on the ground. Beepee lay next to him, curled against one of his huge legs, happy.

  Bo pointed at Zach’s bow. “I knew you were about to take a shot at one of the men. What were you aiming for, specifically? Did you have a strategy?”

  “The upper arm. I figured they couldn’t work their guns if I hit that. I was pretty sure I could make the first shot, but if the other guy moved even a little bit, I would’ve had to shoot whatever I could hit and hope I didn’t kill him.”

  “You would’ve had to hit him in the throat or the eye with a target arrow to do that. Your bow is not powerful enough.”

  “I didn’t want to shoot them. I was really relieved when you did it, instead.”

  “I knew that it would bother you to hurt them, even though they are not nice men. And I can shoot faster than you.”

  Justin bobbed his head. “You sure can. There wasn’t even a blink of an eye between your first and second shot. Those guys never knew what was coming.”

  “My father is much faster with a bow than I am. Or was. I do not know if he is still hunting.”

  “Why wouldn’t he be?” Shelby said. “Is he too old?”

  “He is in the prime of his life, unless something has happened to him that I am not aware of.”

  “How old is he, in Earth years?”

  “About one hundred and thirty, I believe.”

  “Man, that seems ancient to me.”

  “My grandparents are over two hundred, in Earth years.”