by Asher Ellis
The stranger’s eyes scanned the surrounding wilderness. “I do suppose I kind of blend in around here, don’t I?”
“Or maybe you shouldn’t have been standing so close to the road,” Rob grumbled just quietly enough that only those in the van could hear his complaint.
“You hitchin’?” Marshall yelled over to the young man.
“I guess you could call it that,” he answered. “Though you’re the only car I’ve seen all day.”
Eliza rolled down her window. “Where you headed?”
“Burlington, or thereabouts anyway. Back to school.”
“No shit,” Alex spoke up. “What school?”
“JCV.”
Even in the back of the van, Leigh could hear Rob mumble, “What a surprise.” JCV stood for the Junior College of Vermont. Rob, in typical fashion, must have taken one look at their new friend and assumed he wasn’t university material. Leigh wanted to berate Rob for his condescending remark, but Marshall beat her to it.
“Hey, watch your mouth!” Marshall shot Rob a dirty look but it soon changed to his trademark mischievous smile when he added, “I may have an idea.” He turned back to the kid standing outside. “So, are you from this neck of the woods?”
He nodded. “Yeah…more or less.”
“But you know this area, right?”
“I suppose I do.” The boy looked around as if he could confirm that statement by checking the familiarity of the surrounding wilderness.
“Well then,” Marshall said as he extended his hand outward and waved the stranger forward. “Maybe we can help each other.”
“Whoa!” Rob spun in his seat and grabbed Marshall’s arm. “Hold on. What the hell are you talking about?”
Leigh watched as Marshall discreetly lifted up the bag of marijuana and gave Rob a wink. “I think we found the answer to our little import problem.”
Rob’s furrowed brow and frown immediately flipped into a foolish grin.
Alex, too, caught on right away. She whispered, “Ooh, nice thinking, baby.”
Leigh wasn’t exactly certain what her cohorts were plotting, but it was obvious it involved this unknown man. While Leigh wouldn’t have called herself a distrusting person, putting her future in the hands of someone they knew absolutely nothing about seemed to fall short of intelligent.
“Hey, wait!” Leigh tried to call from the backseat, unsure as to what exactly she was objecting to. “We should…think about this.”
But as the words were leaving her mouth, the stranger reached the van and leaned on the sliding door frame. Viewing him from this close up, Leigh had to second-guess herself. Perhaps she had read one too many thriller novels in her life, heard one too many urban legends at the sleepovers of her adolescence. This clearly wasn’t the hitchhiker of campfire tales, dressed all in black and brandishing a hook for a hand. On the contrary, Leigh could only think of one way to describe the college kid who stood against their van:
He seems nice enough.
As if to further suggest this point, the boy raised the brim of his cap, lifting the heavy shadow from his eyes. “What’d you folks have in mind?”
Alex flashed her perfectly white teeth. “Why don’t you get in and we’ll tell you allll about it.”
“Whoa!” Rob raised a hand toward the boy like a Force-wielding Jedi, apparently less trusting than Alex, to Leigh’s relief. “Now just hold up there, pal. We haven’t exactly voted on anything yet.”
Leigh found herself surprised to be siding with Rob for the first time since meeting him. While he and Marshall seemed to have been on the same page before, Rob hadn’t considered that the plan would involve giving something to this outsider in return, even something as mundane as a ride. That, of course, was in direct violation of the “asshole code,” which clearly stated one should never fall victim to the follies of generosity.
“Who says we have to vote on anything?” Alex snarled back.
“Is this your van? I didn’t think so.”
Eliza gently placed a hand on Rob’s bicep in a coaxing manner. “Oh c’mon, Rob. It’s no big deal, we can trust him. There’s plenty of room next to Leigh.”
Leigh’s gaze darted to the girl in the front seat. Her eyes widened as she stared daggers at Eliza, her heart rate increasing to a steady, hammering thump. Was her friend trying to play matchmaker…or might there be an ulterior motive?
Two nights ago, the group had snuck into their hotel’s pool after hours with a bottle of whiskey. By chance, Marshall discovered the staff had failed to lock the door of the spa, allowing them access to both the heated pool and spacious hot tub. Their bloodstreams coursing with alcohol, the college students practiced their cannonballs and splashed chlorinated water at each other, all the while expecting to be kicked out at any moment. And even though Leigh was not as drunk as her friends, she was actually enjoying herself for the first time since arriving in the Canadian city.
But eventually and inevitably, the last auburn drop of Jack Daniels had fallen from the bottle, leaving Leigh’s companions wanting more. Unfortunately, Montreal liquor stores and gas stations wouldn’t sell alcohol after 11 p.m.—a fact that deeply upset everyone except Leigh, prompting Marshall to repeat “fuckin’ Canadians” several times throughout their trip. After visiting their fifth sports bar to find only more hockey on the TV and more gravy on their French fries instead of ketchup, Marshall had turned the expression into something of a catch phrase. If anyone wanted anything further alcoholic to drink, someone was going to have to hustle back to the hotel suite.
“I’ll go,” Marshall offered, and was immediately echoed by Alex’s announcement that she’d be going with him. As the two grabbed towels and threw T-shirts over their semi-damp bodies, Eliza pulled herself out of the hot tub as well.
“I’m gonna have a quick smoke,” she said, pushing her feet into a pair of lime green flip-flops. Perhaps it was due to the alcoholic fog slowing her thought processes, but Leigh didn’t even realize that she’d be alone with Rob until after everyone else had already left. Perhaps it was for this same reason that she didn’t realize he had wrapped his arm around her shoulder the moment Eliza walked out the door, and his face was suddenly a mere inch from hers.
“What are you doing?” Leigh asked, trying to hide the concern in her voice with a forced chuckle.
“You’re lookin’ good t’night, Leigh.” Rob’s voice came out a sloppy slur. He’d had far more to drink than anyone else.
“Uh, thanks, Rob.” Leigh was growing more uncomfortable with each passing second. What did this guy think he was doing?
“It must suck bein’ all ’lone on dis trip wit’ two couples.”
“It’s okay. I’m having a good time.”
“Bullshit!” Rob laughed and raised a hand out of the water to poke her shoulder, splashing her face. A drop landed on her bottom eyelid, the chlorine stinging. “But hey, we gotta moment here, don’t we? If you want to use it, I’d be down.”
“Rob…” Leigh tried to inch her way out of the cradle of his heavy arm. “You’re drunk. You know Eliza wouldn’t like this very much.”
“Well, hey!” The stench of booze radiating from him was nauseating. “Friends share, don’t they?”
Before Leigh could answer that ridiculous question, the sound of the pool area’s glass door swinging open echoed off the room’s high ceiling. Leigh turned, expecting to finally see a hotel staff member wagging his finger at the two trespassers. But it wasn’t a maid or a bellboy that stood staring at the cozy couple.
It was Eliza.
“I forgot my lighter,” she said, not taking her eyes off Leigh as she slowly reached into her sweatshirt pocket.
Leigh jumped out from under Rob’s arm and kicked herself to the other side of the hot tub. She was unaware she had even begun speaking when the first lie that came into her head was coming out of her mouth.
“Rob was telling me a secret,” she said, forcing herself to smile. She then made a drinking motion with her h
and that she was certain Rob couldn’t see with her back to him.
Eliza slowly nodded. “Oh.” It was clear she’d identified Leigh’s gesture. Whether or not she believed it was up for debate. She turned to Rob.
“Was it about me?”
Rob winked. “Maaaaybe,” he replied, stretching the word out like a parent teasing their child about what their Christmas present might be. “What will you give me if I tell ya?”
Eliza smirked and lifted up her pack of Camel Lights. “How about a cigarette?”
Rob’s response was to jump out of the hot tub and land a deep kiss on his girlfriend’s lips in one deft movement. It was actually quite impressive, considering his drunken state. Rob didn’t even bother drying himself off before escorting Eliza out the door, his hand around her waist.
Leigh remained in the hot tub, wondering if Eliza suspected anything. Wondering what Rob would tell her if she questioned him. Not that he would be a reliable source in his current state, but she knew never to underestimate a jealous girlfriend.
Not that there was anything to deny! Christ, how do I get myself into these things?
Fortunately, when the couple returned, their behavior was as normal as ever, and nothing further was mentioned about the subject for the remainder of the trip. When the group discussed their fun night over breakfast the next morning, a very hung over Rob rubbed his aching temples and confessed, “I totally blacked out. I don’t remember anything.” The statement was awarded a high five from Marshall and secret relief from Leigh, who felt she’d put the awkward situation behind her.
Until now.
It seemed likely that Eliza had suspected her the entire time, and saw this as her opportunity to exact revenge. She was undoubtedly aware of Leigh’s discomfort, something Leigh had never been able to hide when placed in situations she couldn’t control. What better way to exploit her neurosis than to place her in extremely close quarters with someone who was probably going to turn out to be a gigantic creep?
Leigh stared into Alex’s beaming blue eyes as she too twirled around in her seat. “Looks like we found you a date after all!” she said, giggling.
All Leigh could do was turn her face toward the window in embarrassment. She didn’t need to see the satisfied expression on Rob’s face to know what he was about to say to the stranger.
“On second thought, why don’t you squeeze in next to Leigh? I think she’s getting lonely back there.”
His intonation of the word sent a shiver down Leigh’s spine. She was starting to doubt Rob’s claim that he had no recollection of the night in the hot tub. It was beginning to seem more plausible that he too was using this stranger as a form of payback, a way to retaliate for her rejection of his advances.
“Only if you don’t mind.”
Leigh spotted the brim of the boy’s faded cap in her peripheral vision and realized he was speaking to her. She looked up, startled by the warmth in his eyes. She still didn’t feel comfortable inviting a stranger onto the seat next to her, but she also couldn’t deny the pleasurable warmth that resonated throughout her entire body just from catching his gaze.
They all think this is hilarious, don’t they? “We’re really putting her on the spot here, aren’t we?” Well, fuck them.
Straightening her shoulders and ignoring the sneering Rob in the rearview mirror, Leigh took a deep breath and answered as confidently as she could.
“Go ahead.”
Rob clapped his hands. “All right! What’s your name, man?”
“Samuel Tucker.” The boy pinched the brim of his cap and tugged it down. “But everyone calls me Sam. Nice to meet all of you.”
Leigh moved over to make room for Sam, who took his place next to her with a welcoming smile. Rob waited for Alex to slide the door shut behind him before turning to face their new companion.
“Well, Sammy-boy, that’s Marshall sitting in front of you and he’s gonna fill you in on what we need from you in exchange for this ride.”
Sam nodded. “All ears.”
Rob yanked the gearshift into drive and stomped the accelerator. The back tires spun up a cloud of dirt and stones that clinked loudly against the undercarriage of the van as it jerked forward.
Leigh stared at Sam’s face as he listened to Marshall’s proposal and felt something drop at the pit of her stomach.
She had been hesitant to invite the nice-looking stranger into their car, worrying he might bring more trouble than he was worth. But now, as their van sped along under trees so tall they blocked out the sun, she found herself thinking it was Sam who was getting himself in trouble. Wasn’t he the one taking the greater risk, entrusting his fate to a group of strangers who outnumbered him five to one? The possible repercussions for his involvement in their illegal scheme were far, far worse than the risk they were taking.
Her stomach roiled again.
Chapter 3
Despite having been a devoted Chevy man his entire life, Jake Spire had to admit that Ford was capable of making a decent truck. Perhaps it wasn’t “Like a Rock,” but his shiny, new, dark green F-150 was meeting his expectations in every other regard. When he had given up his company allegiance only to take advantage of the dealership’s Ford sale, he expected to be yet another victim of that saying, “You get what you pay for.” But here it was two weeks later and the truck had yet to give him a single reason to regret. It even had a kick-ass stereo system, which was currently blasting Creedence Clearwater Revival’s “Green River” as he ripped along Route 6 to the ranger headquarters.
“I can hear the bullfrog callin’ me!” Jake sang, pounding his fist to the beat on the steering wheel. With a hearty breakfast sitting in his belly and his favorite band playing on his way to work, Jake’s mood was exceptionally high for a Monday morning. It also wasn’t every weekend he got away from his responsibilities as a Vermont state forest ranger, and the previous one he had spent attending a family reunion for a couple days in Portland, Maine. After a fun few days of lobster and microbrews, it was time to get back to the “office.” But the unmistakable fragrance of pine and the welcoming songs of birds and insects made it far from the worst office in the world.
He gently applied pressure to the brake as he turned the last corner in the road before the Vermont State Forest HQ came into view. Phil Carson’s truck was already parked in his usual space, but that came as no surprise. Phil hadn’t been able to take on any fieldwork since he’d stumbled into that bear trap a month and three days ago. There was an aftertaste of guilt every time Jake recollected the day Phil suffered his horrible accident. Although he felt sorry for his old coworker, Jake couldn’t deny how eternally grateful he was that it had been Phil’s foot snapping between the trap’s rusted teeth and not his own. Sure, broken bones healed, but to be restricted to the indoors for more than a month was hell on Earth for rangers like Jake and Phil. They had all signed up for this job for one reason and one reason only: an unconditional love for primeval wilderness, despite the endless risks that came into play when one exposed oneself to the elements.
Jake could only imagine how thankful Phil had to be that his cast was scheduled to come off next week after being sidelined for so long. On the day of the accident, the two had been checking out yet another abandoned campsite, an unfortunate trend that had become a plague on their neck of the woods. Tourists these days just didn’t have any respect for the maintenance of wild country, he mused, constantly leaving their campsites littered with beer cans, discarded clothing, and even smoldering campfires. Those cases were the worst of all, of course. It was far too easy for a renegade spark to escape the stone circle and ignite a single dry leaf or pine needle. Next thing they knew, the entire forest was on fire.
Fucking flatlanders, Jake thought for the millionth time in his career, a phrase usually inspired by catching someone fishing without a license or attempting to feed the wildlife. But after discovering a copy of Field and Stream and a bottle of deer musk near the stone circle of the campsite’s fire pit, Jake
wasn’t so sure he was looking at the leftovers of out-of-staters. Nine times out of ten, poaching was done by locals who knew the best areas to get away with their illegal hunting practices. But even poaching rednecks were usually smart enough not to leave behind a stockpile of incriminating evidence. Maybe it had been the mistake of a drunken stupor.
Jake had heard the metallic snap of the cast-iron jaws and knew the scream was coming even before Phil began to holler a second later. He’d heard that horrific sound before and it had never left the audio archives of his mind. Hunting was one thing, especially when a rifle was in the hands of a seasoned marksman. Sometimes the animal would drop to the ground and find itself in critter heaven before it even knew it had been hit.
But traps?
Traps were cruel. Hell, they were straight-out sadistic as far as Jake was concerned. But even more so, traps were dangerous—deadly, gnashing mouths hidden in the underbrush like landmines. A forgotten bear trap or snare could spell serious trouble for a strolling hiker or a hunting sportsman—or an unfortunate forest ranger patrolling the parameter.
Thank God the two men had been together. Phil would’ve been in an even worse spot if Jake hadn’t been there to help him pry the trap apart and assist him to his four-wheeler. Even through the blinding pain of severed flesh and shattered bones, Phil could acknowledge how lucky he was that by chance on that day Jake had decided to tag along instead of staying behind during his lunch break.
“Who the fuck still uses old-school bear traps?” Phil bellowed as Jake sped him to the emergency room. Had it been Jake with the crushed foot, the intense pain would’ve surely stopped him from forming coherent words. But apparently it took far more to stop this tough old man from slinging obscenities. “I’m gonna catch the motherfucker who set that thing. I’ll kill him!”
Jake ignored his partner’s outburst while he radioed for the rookie, Doug, to go retrieve the other four-wheeler they’d been forced to leave behind at the campsite.
Doug hadn’t found any further traps, but Phil’s question still burned in his mind.
