Lie Down in Green Pastures

by Debbie Viguié

  Minutes later the Rangers were squatting near the bridgehead.Jeremiah, Brenda, and Noah went out onto the bridge with several feet between them. Each person wound an arm around the right side wire.

  "Three," said Noah, who was in the middle of the bridge.

  The three jumped up and down twice.

  Good, seems solid enough.

  "Three," said Noah again. The three tried to get the bridge to sway back and forth, but it was still solid. Returning to the riverbank, Jeremiah approached the group.

  "The bridge seems to be safe. Sarah will go first." Turning to Sarah, Jeremiah continued, "When you get across go straight onward into the trees. Stop about twenty feet in."

  "Rabbi, the trail turns left and goes down the other side of the river," Sarah said. "Shouldn't we follow that?"

  "No. As you know, we are close to the camp. We have no idea what awaits us there. It will be better for us to hide and rest, at least until the sun comes up."

  Jeremiah turned and addressed the entire group. "We are going to cross the river here. Do not look around. Just look straight ahead. Sarah will lead out. Next person will follow fifteen feet later."

  "Why?"

  Because I don't want them to be able to kill two of us with the same shot. Out loud he said, "So we don't overload the bridge and start it swinging back and forth."

  Jeremiah stood by the bridge and as each kid started over, he reminded them to go straight into the woods. Brenda and Noah, carrying Bobby on the stretcher, were last. Jeremiah checked the area quickly, then crossed over. Once they had assembled around him, Jeremiah passed out some first aid towelettes.

  "Clean around your eyes, nose, and mouth."

  Jeremiah then passed around the box of granola bars and bottled water.

  "We are going to hole up here till sunrise, so everyone get some rest. Oh, and no snoring," said Jeremiah, as the group giggled.

  Jeremiah moved over to Bobby.

  "How you doing, champ?" he asked.

  Jeremiah looked down at the broken leg. He could tell it was beginning to swell. Opening the first aid kit, Jeremiah removed the two instant ice packs. Squeezing them to break the inner pouch, he shook them to mix the chemicals. He placed the ice packs gently on the wound area. Next he opened the emergency thermal blanket, spreading it out. He placed the blanket on Bobby and tucked it in on both sides.

  "Rabbi, is it smart to use that? It is like, shiny," asked Brenda.

  He whispered to her so Bobby couldn't hear. "I wish it wasn't so shiny too but we need to make sure that he stays warm. The last thing we need is for him to go into shock. He has been doing good so far, but staying in one place without movement will cause his temperature to begin to fall, and then he will be in big trouble."

  Brenda nodded understanding.

  "Rabbi?" asked Sarah, who had crept up behind Jeremiah.

  "Yes?"

  "We need to post guards. I will go first. Noah, can you go second if needed?"

  "Good idea, but I will take this shift. You have been on point for over five hours and Brenda and Noah were the last to carry Bobby. You three have been utterly fantastic, awesome . . ." Jeremiah trailed off. He just did not have words for what these kids had done and for the first time in many years, he was getting emotional.

  Jeremiah left the group in the capable hands of Sarah, Brenda, and Noah. He positioned himself just upstream of the bridge and inside the tree line.

  What a night, and unfortunately it is not over. At the least, we are on the correct side of the river. He slowed his breathing and heart rate. He sat listening. All he heard was the river and the sounds of the forest. He couldn't even hear the kids breathing.

  There was something he needed to do and now that it was no longer the Sabbath and the kids were safe for a while he could do it. He debated. It would mean leaving them alone for at least two hours, maybe more.

  He returned to the camp and told Noah what he needed to do. With the boy's assurances that they could handle whatever arose, Jeremiah turned and melted into the wilderness.

  It took him over an hour to make it back to the logging camp. When he did he wrapped Paul's body in the blanket he had laid over it earlier and carried it into the forest.

  He had no idea how long it would be before they could send someone to retrieve the body, but he didn't want to leave it out to be violated by the animals and the elements. He went back into the camp and got a shovel.

  Jeremiah began to dig. The earth was soft and the grave didn't have to be deep. Three feet deep would be enough to protect the body from animals. It was shallow enough, though, that after a few days the smell of decomposing flesh would help him find it again.

  After half an hour he had it deep enough. He carefully shifted Paul's body into it. He sat back and recited from the Psalms as was customary. He chose the one he found to be most poignant to the moment.

  "The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staffthey comfort me. Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever."

  Finished, he picked up two fistfuls of dirt and let them fall down on top of the body before he stood and shoveled the dirt over Paul.

  "Dayan Ha'emet," he said, ripping his shirt on the right side of his chest. He was not family and yet there was no one else to mourn Paul who, if nothing else, he had been a brother-inarms with.

  "Praised be the name of G-d. He created the world according to his will. Life has a plan and a purpose. We hope for the coming of G-d's kingdom on earth, when things as they are, will be changed to things as they ought to be."

  He had done what he could for the dead. It was time to attend to the living. It was time to stop being the hunted.

  Cindy hit the fire road and felt her heart jump into her throat. From this point forward she was entering the danger zone and she could be attacked at any moment. She tried to keep back the fear that threatened to cloud her thinking as she drove cautiously up the road, keeping an eye out for kids, killers, and obstacles on the road.

  Trees pressed in around the car, obscuring her vision of what lay to the sides of the trail. Branches scratched at the windows, making her cringe at the sound. The road curved a lot forcing her to grudgingly reduce her speed even further so that she could stop in time if a person or obstacle did present itself.

  With every minute that ticked by on the dashboard clock her anxiety increased. What if I'm too late? What if this minute Jeremiah's breathing his last? What if I could save the kids if only I hadn't slowed down?

  She prayed, desperately trying to drown out the fear and the questions that seemed to be trying to drive her mad.

  Suddenly, she found a Jeep, upside-down on the road.

  Paul!

  Paul had said he was going up in a Jeep. He must have been attacked, she realized. Fresh waves of fear washed over her, but she forced herself to slow down and look to see if there was anyone inside the Jeep. There wasn't and she breathed a sigh of relief. She debated briefly whether to stop and look for him, but decided her best bet was to keep moving and make it to the camp.

  Farther on several large trees blocked the path ahead, crossing the road. She turned the Hummer and headed into the forest, easing between the trees until she could get around the fallen ones.

  A faint fork in the road appeared and she took the left branch, knowing it led to the camp site. The road continued to wind for another five miles, but finally brought her to the edge of the campground. She drove through slowly, looking for signs of occupation. At last she saw something that made her blood turn cold.

  One of the cabins had been destroyed
and there was a huge crater in the ground where it had once stood. Nearby trees showed scorch marks and she saw bits of wood scattered a long way in every direction. The roof of the closest cabin was half caved-in as well.

  Cindy got out of the Hummer and walked gingerly to the edge of the crater. She peered inside. It was several feet deep, and in it she saw skeletons.

  She fell to the ground and began to retch at the sight.When it didn't seem like she could possibly be sick anymore she dragged herself back to the Hummer, beginning to sob with sorrow and terror.

  A few minutes later she reached Mark using the satellite phone, and attempted to describe to him what she had found.

  "The skeletons were in the crater, under where the cabin was?" he asked.

  "Yes."

  "But the wood from the cabin itself was scattered for yards around?"

  "Yes."

  "Cindy, take a deep breath. It sounds like whoever those skeletons belong to, they were buried under the cabin long before it exploded."

  "What are you saying?" she asked.

  "It's not Jeremiah and the kids. Their . . . bodies . . . would have been blown clear with the pieces of the cabin from whatever explosion happened."

  "Oh, thank, God!" she wailed, then began to sob even harder.

  "Listen to me. Get out of there. You aren't safe. Come back out. We're putting a team together and we'll be going in with helicopters and SUVs shortly."

  "I can't wait," she said. "It might be too late."

  "Then at least please get out of that camp. You're completely exposed up there."

  "I will. I'll call when I know anything more," she said before disconnecting.

  Mark was right. She was a sitting duck, vulnerable. She had to keep moving. She picked the quickest route out of the center of the camp to get back under cover of the trees.

  Once there she studied the map. There was an old logging camp a couple miles away. It would provide some form of shelter, but she doubted that anyone in Jeremiah's group knew of its existence.

  "Think, Cindy! If you had fourteen kids to worry about and killers stalking you on this mountain, where would you go?"

  The answer was so obvious that she felt like an idiot for even asking the question. "I'd get the heck offthis mountain."

  And as far as any of the campers knew, there was only one real way to do that, back down the way they had come up.They might try to forge the river even though it had washed out the bridge.

  She set offdown the hill. The rain was starting in again and she worried about the kids out in it even as the Hummer sloshed and slid through patches of mud.

  Half an hour later Jeremiah found the trail of the man with the flashlight who had been following them down the fire road hours before. The rain had eased up, preserving the footprints, and the hunter had made no effort to hide them.

  Jeremiah followed, swift and silent as a ghost. He found the place the man had turned offthe road to eat and rest for a few minutes. He pressed on. As the trail became fresher, the blood began to sing in his veins.

  The man was a professional, but he was being sloppy. He had no idea who or what he was up against or he would not have let down his guard as he did.

  You should have gone home before you killed Paul, he thought as he pursued.

  Somewhere offin the distance he could hear a low rumble.For a moment he thought it was the helicopter but realized almost instantly that it wasn't. Something on the ground, something big.

  He slowed, almost upon his quarry. He can't find our trail; he's going slow and looking and in the meantime leaving a trail a blind man could follow. But where's his buddy in the helicopter?

  A lightening in the trees a hundred yards ahead of him indicated the presence of some sort of clearing. Jeremiah slowed even more and circled to the left, moving away from the trail.It was possible that the killers weren't being sloppy but that they had laid a trap for him. At any rate they were much closer to the river and the kids than he would have liked.

  As the clearing came into view Jeremiah could see the helicopter.It was down and the engine was off. Both men were near it, partially obscured from view. The sound of the other engine was growing louder. He could tell the moment that both of them heard it too. They listened for a moment and then moved to get in the helicopter.

  Jeremiah leaped into the clearing, pulling one of the guns from his waistband, and shot the one on the passenger side of the helicopter. The man crumpled without a sound. It took only a moment for his partner to respond, shooting at Jeremiah from underneath the belly of the chopper.

  Jeremiah resisted returning fire until he could get a clear shot. He began circling around, trying to keep trees between himself and the shooter. The engine sound had become almost deafening.

  Friend or foe? he wondered.

  Friend seemed unlikely, and the chopper pilot seemed to be thinking the same thing. He climbed into the cockpit, preparing to take off. Jeremiah sprinted forward, needing to get in a good shot before he could lift off.

  A crashing sound in the trees drew his attention as a dark green Hummer punched through the underbrush and charged across the pasture. Jeremiah shouted in surprise and jumped back.

  The vehicle slammed into the helicopter, sending them both skidding. Jeremiah sprinted forward, ducking behind the Th helicopter and running up alongside.

  The man inside was dazed. Turning, he raised his gun.Jeremiah was faster and was able to shoot him in the arm, causing him to drop the weapon.

  "How many more?" he roared.

  The man stared at him long and hard. "Who are you?" he asked finally. "We weren't expecting . . . you."

  "I'm the man who will end your life right here, right now unless you tell me what I want to know."

  "I'm the last."

  "Who hired you?"

  "I can answer that," a female voice he recognized quavered.

  He glanced over and saw Cindy climbing out of the Hummer. He yanked the man out of the helicopter and threw him face down onto the ground. He hit the man in the head with the butt of the gun to knock him out.

  "What are you doing here?" he barked at Cindy.

  "Rescuing you," she said, appearing beside him with a coil of rope.

  He ticked his gaze over to the Hummer. "You think that thing will still run?"

  She nodded. "It's a tank. It better."

  Jeremiah stripped the injured man down to his underwear, making sure he had nothing he could use as a weapon. Then he trussed him and threw him into the back of the vehicle. He grabbed one of the protein bars from the box back there and wolfed it down, chasing it with a bottle of water.

  He turned to Cindy then and hugged her fiercely. "Thank you for the rescue," he whispered.

  She shook her head. "It's not over. Where are the kids?"

  "Let's go get them."

  Under Jeremiah's direction Cindy drove the Hummer to the bank of the river near the footbridge. Satisfied that his prisoner wasn't going anywhere he left him in the back of the car and led Cindy across the bridge. She had a satellite phone with her. What he would have given for one of those during the whole ordeal! They were almost to the camp when he heard a boy scream. A moment later he heard a shot.

  He sprinted forward. No, no, no!

  With Cindy on his heels he ran into camp and looked wildly around. He spotted Noah, standing offto the side, eyes wild, paintball gun drawn and aimed at the ground, hand shaking.

  "What is it?" he asked as he crossed to him.

  The boy looked up at him with dazed, fearful eyes. "You were right about one thing, Rabbi. These guns can kill."

  Jeremiah looked at where the gun was aimed and nearly collapsed in relief. Noah had shot the head offa rattlesnake.

  Jeremiah clapped the boy on the shoulder and then relieved him of the weapon. He cleared his throat. "Who's up for breakfast?" he shouted.

  A minute later Cindy was thrusting the satellite phone at him. "Here," she said, "explain to Mark exactly where it is we are so they can send
the cavalry to come pick us up."

  Jeremiah took the phone. "Mark."

  "Rabbi."

  "Good to hear your voice."

  "Yours too. Now tell us where the devil you are."

  "Gladly," Jeremiah said, tears of exhaustion and relief filling his eyes.

  Thursday night Cindy made it home and glanced at the clock, calculating the time difference between her and Rhode Island. She walked into her bedroom and sat down on her bed. She grabbed the phone and dialed the number she'd been meaning to call for the last four days.

  She smiled when her brother picked up.

  "Hey, Kyle, it's Cindy."

  "Hi," he said, sounding genuinely surprised.

  "How are things with you?"

  "Great. The new show is doing really well. How about you? Somebody told me that you stopped another killer."

  "Mom?"

  "No, one of the guys I work with saw it online somewhere."

  "Oh."

  I guess some things never change.

  "You should totally send me a newspaper clipping. Mom too."

  "I'll think about it."

  "So, what can I do for you?"

  "Kyle, I just wanted to say 'thank you.'"

  "For what?"

  She pulled the darts out of his picture and stared at it for a moment. "For . . . everything. You saved my life."

  "How?"

  "You just did."

  "Mom said you were getting weird. Are you okay?"

  There was a knock on her front door and she got up and hurried down the hall to open it and see Jeremiah standing there.

  "Never better," she told Kyle, unable to keep the smile from spreading across her face. "I'll talk to you later."

  She hung up and welcomed Jeremiah in. He glanced around at the half packed boxes. "Moving?"

  "Yes. I inherited a house a few months back and I've decided to move into it. Geanie's going to be my roommate."

  "Congratulations."

  "Thank you."

  "Everyone's getting new homes," he said. "Zac, one of the kids, is getting to go live with his grandparents. He's very excited about that. And the zoo has a new lion cub courtesy of Sarah, another one of the kids from camp."