Oak & Mistletoe

by McCauley, J. Z. N.

  Danny adjusted his stance, “I’m gonna go around the other side to see if there’s anything.” Before she could stop him he was gone. Catherine, uncertain what to do, settled into her position and waited.

  Suddenly a strange noise echoed around the kidnapper’s tree, and she instinctively crouched lower while peering over the shrubbery. A metal screeching rang out as a piece of the wooded structure directly ahead opened. It appeared that metal plating had been formed in a crude metal door frame in the tree. Out stepped an older man, his facial features at first hidden in shadow by a dark brown snap brim fedora which looked a bit weather worn. Underneath, long graying hair hung limply down to his shoulders. He was wrapped in some sort of handmade grass cloth that puffed out from his body and scraped against the ground as he walked. It hit his faded tall black boots, which completed the unusual ensemble, and they clunked the metal of the door before silencing on the dirt.

  The man stretched himself backward to maneuver his grassy cloak, revealing his face to the light. Catherine’s eyes widened, as she repressed the urge to gasp. It was the old man she had run into at the museum! A dozen questions flooded her mind. Who was this creepy man, and why was he following her? The familiar stranger finished his fiddling around and then reached to shut his secret door. He walked away from his apparent lair at an appallingly slow pace, which after some distance made him look like walking moss until he disappeared into the scenery altogether.

  Catherine breathed in relief as she stared out, trying to take in all she saw. Danny startled her as he showed up just then. “I didn’t find anything, but did you see that grass man? He must be our guy.” He pointed in the direction of the stalker.

  Catherine wasted no time. “Danny, that man followed us somehow. I collided with him outside the museum the day before we left! He’s obviously dangerous, we must hurry!” she gripped and shook his arm.

  Danny was surprised but said nothing, and they both quietly sped to the side of the tree structure. Hoping not to alert the clearly trained hunter now lurking in the woods, they stood next to the invisible door. Catherine scanned the wood climbing up to the tall top.

  “This is where the door was,” she said, her hands feeling carefully, searching along the real and manufactured bark.

  Now that she was up close, she could feel and see the difference. Danny was close beside her as they tried to find a latch or secret button of some kind that would open the door. As the minutes passed, Catherine grew increasingly more alarmed. Though she knew the hunter was on his way to break his word to them by clearly not exchanging Bowen at the meeting place his note indicated, she worried about eyes watching them, or his return at any moment.

  Bending down now, Catherine felt along where the ground met the bark. Just when she was about to give up hope, and risk yelling Bowen’s name, her thumb found a small springy button. Danny caught the thick door as it sprung open.

  Holding onto the staff, Catherine pulled the door open and hurried inside. It was dark at first, but she kept moving and her eyes adjusted quickly. Along the wall were many different hunting weapons. Rope, and other hunting gear was carelessly thrown on the ground, or lay across furniture. She saw that the warm fire was coming from a wood-burning stove in the corner of the living area, obviously the cause of the chimney smoke they had followed there. A tea set was sitting on a low table nearby, clearly just used and left unfinished as if the user had lost track of time. There was a mess of clothes, and trash spread all over on one side of the room, and Catherine silently condemned the hunter, imagining what his slovenly appearance must look like up close. She then spotted a flight of stairs and quickly climbed up, searching the few rooms at the top. They all appeared to be empty.

  Already feeling on edge at the thought of the hunter returning at any second, she was devastated not to find Bowen. Wild thoughts rushed through her mind and her hands shook. What if he was already dead? That sinking feeling hadn’t left, and now at the vivid thought of his demise, the pit of her stomach felt like it was too full of burning liquid pain ready to rip her to pieces. Finally terrified beyond control, Catherine gave in to her inner urge and shouted his name. No answer. She tried again, repeating his name several times, with a prayer hanging on each syllable she uttered. Danny followed suit while he examined each room a second and third time, weaving in and out of them.

  Just when she was going to give up everything, and fall apart completely, Catherine heard something. Danny continued to yell. She hunched over slightly, straining her ears to catch the sound again.

  “Shh!” she hissed at her brother, and Danny’s voice finished echoing off the walls.

  Silence lingered as she waited desperately, until suddenly the two heard a faint reply. Like owls, both their heads swiveled in what they thought was the direction of the cry, and they ran towards it. They found themselves in one of the rooms they had already checked. Sure the sound came from this room, they stood still and waited again.

  “Catherine?” the voice said faintly.

  Catherine bolted. It was coming from the corner of the room. “How?” she said under her breath, her eyes searching wildly. She pressed her ear against the wall and listened.

  “Bowen?” Danny said towards it.

  “Danny, help.”

  The two siblings saw a small knob right above the baseboard of the room. They looked at each other briefly. Then Danny pulled at it, creating a crack in the wall. What looked like fresh white walls now crumbled at the crack’s seam before them to reveal a door obviously painted over. Catherine helped her brother pull the heavy door open completely. As light flooded within, Bowen looked up at them, gasping for air.

  Catherine forgot herself and reached desperately for him. “Bowen! Oh thank—”

  “There’s no time,” Bowen said, interrupting Catherine sharply.

  “What?” Danny said practically dragging Bowen out of the hole in the wall.

  “He knows you’re here.”

  “No, we watched him leave,” Catherine whispered.

  “He’s watching this place; he can see every room. I saw his phone with the camera, before he buried me in that hole,” Bowen said.

  “So the hunter isn’t far . . .” Catherine gripped the top of her head.

  “We have to run!” Bowen struggled to stand on his cramped legs. He had been smashed from all sides for hours and hours.

  “Can you?”

  “Yes, in a moment, but you shouldn’t wait for me.”

  Danny looked shocked. “We just risked everything to get you back. We’re not leaving you now!”

  Catherine looked Bowen over as they waited. Even now he looked impossibly powerful. “How did he get you?” she asked.

  Bowen inhaled deeply, then exhaled while he rubbed the back of his legs. “All I remember is hearing something behind me, then everything went black. I woke with a terrible head pain, and it was dark outside. I remember I was outside still because I saw trees and stars moving above me,” he stood up straight then.

  “Why didn’t you run away?” Danny asked, as he looked quickly behind him.

  “I couldn’t move most of my body, he must have drugged me,” Bowen answered. “The next thing I remember was this room as he pushed me into the wall hole. Before he shut the wall, I saw his phone. When my strength returned I couldn’t reopen it, and the air started to thin.”

  “We must go. Can you move now?” Catherine asked.

  “Yes!” Bowen’s voice sounded hoarse as he took a few steps. They raced for the door.

  “Do you know who he is?” Danny asked.

  “No,” Bowen replied.

  As they neared, the door slammed open. They halted. A withered man stood in the threshold. The hunter was back. Catherine’s breath was caught somewhere inside her, and she felt trapped. She squeezed the ancient staff, prepared to defend herself.

  The old man coughed to clear his throat. “Aye, I knew you’d find him,” he voiced gruffly, looking straight at Catherine. He kept still otherwise but loo
ked her up and down briefly. She could see his eyes gave a kind of twinkle of recognition as he focused on the staff in her hand.

  In one of his hands Catherine saw he had a lit cigar. He brought it up to his mouth, and his eyes squinted ever so slightly.

  “Your hair,” little puffs of smoke came out from between his lips. “You have the same shade of red as him,” he grumbled, the cigar bouncing slightly with the movement.

  Catherine’s brow furrowed. The man waved his hand as if to apologize for not clarifying. “Mick,” he said.

  “Mick?” she mouthed silently.

  “If only . . .” he trailed off, smoke billowing out of his mouth and scaling up like a chimney. “I think if you hadn’t shown up that day he would’ve gone through with it,” he said.

  Then it dawned on her. “Uncle Mickey? How did you know my uncle?”

  “He occasionally acquired relics that I wanted. If I threatened him he usually would give me anything I asked for.” He paused to blow out more smoky air. “However, when I wanted special information regarding a particularly high priced item, he wasn’t sure about giving it up. I seemed to be close to getting it out of him, just a little more pressure . . .” his voice sounded pained. “When you and your family arrived I even threatened you, but that had the opposite effect I expected, and he refused. And well, you know what happened, don’t you,” he explained, tugging on the cigar with a few fingers.

  Danny looked furious as it came together, and Catherine stood wide eyed as sadness and anger rolled up from her stomach and into her chest.

  “He wasn’t making me much more money anyway,” the man finished.

  “You killed him,” Catherine said, as if saying it out loud was going to confirm it.

  “You’re so alike, it’s amazing,” he mumbled, then coughed deeply in his throat once before saying louder “amazing as what you’ve got in your hand there.” He pointed to the ancient staff clenched tightly in Catherine’s grasp.

  “Give it to me now, and I’ll let you leave without further harm.”

  Catherine clenched her fist. Her arm and other muscles were still sore, but all her strength came back in a surge of adrenaline.

  “Now,” the hunter held his gaze on Catherine. “Come on then,” his fingers wiggled from his outstretched hand.

  Bowen and Danny were still. Bowen looked at Catherine, trying to gauge her next move. Danny was about to snap. Suddenly everything happened at once. Danny rushed at the old man in a fit of rage, the shape of his hands formed into claws, his voice screeching. And Catherine, ignoring her damaged hands, took the staff up over her head and swung with all her might. Bowen, reacting quickly to the sibling’s outbursts, lunged at Catherine to push her away from harm. As she tipped with him into a chaotic fall, the staff hit the wall and shattered into thousands of pieces.

  Catherine and Bowen quickly looked up from where they fell to see the staff destroyed on the ground before them. Danny was still fighting the hunter, who fought back desperately. His crossbow was knocked off his back as Danny attacked skillfully with his fist, leaving him to rely on his not-as-trained body strength. Arms flailed as he struggled to get Danny off of him long enough to find something to fight back with. He managed to do that once, which he viewed as his only chance, and took it. Wrapping a hand on a decorative pot just inside the doorway along a shelf, he smashed it on Danny’s head. Danny released him as he fell to the ground.

  Catherine and Bowen stood together in one motion, their eyes locked on Danny, and went to him. They all tumbled through the door frame into the sun outside.

  “Danny!” Catherine exclaimed wild with worry, and she pawed at the back of his neck and head where he had been struck.

  “Are you all right?” Bowen asked with a steady voice, though he looked concerned.

  Danny winced at the pain, kneeling on the ground where he had caught himself. He couldn’t answer in the midst of his blinding pain. Meanwhile, realizing the hunter was still a problem, Catherine rapidly looked up to fend him off. But to her surprise, he was gone. Nowhere to be seen, the old man had fled the scene with his crossbow. She assumed he was dismayed at the destruction of his prize, and left to nurse his wounds. This was her hope anyway, so she kept a lookout in case.

  “I think so,” Danny finally replied.

  Bowen looked him over and stated he might have a concussion, but besides little scrapes and bruises he should be okay. Danny waved a hand in thanks as he massaged the base of his skull seeking relief. Catherine’s breathing became normal again as she looked down at her brother, then over at Bowen. She felt relief now that the three of them were together again.

  While Danny and Bowen were gathering themselves, Catherine noticed some glass and clay shards from the staff had caught in her clothes and hair. She shook them out as carefully as possible.

  “We need to leave!” Bowen said suddenly, peering alertly through the woods.

  The siblings agreed quickly and moved in unison. After maintaining a quick pace for some time, the three soon found themselves walking through the woods as if they were simply out for an afternoon stroll. None of them voiced it, but they were wondering what to do from there.

  A sudden bite of cold in the air made the hair on their arms prickle, but somehow Catherine felt a warm sensation in her hands. She held them up, noticing finally that they were covered in blood. The tussle must have reopened her wounds from the fall. She and Bowen examined them together.

  “What happened?!” Bowen reached for them carefully.

  “It happened after he took you,” she answered calmly.

  “These are gashes. How did you do this?”

  “I fell off the cliff by the cave entrance,” she said, flinching as his fingers neared the cuts.

  “These need to be cleaned,” he said, “they’ve been torn open further.” He let out an annoyed sigh. Bowen ripped two small pieces of his shirt and gently laid them across Catherine’s unsightly cuts.

  “This will have to do,” he said as he tied them off.

  “Thank you,” she said. Catherine could see his sad face as he looked down at her hands, his touch very tender. “What’s wrong?”

  He shook his head slightly, “I’m sorry I wasn’t there to help you, and that all of this happened.”

  Catherine shrugged and tipped her head to the side to catch his eye, “It’s okay, none of that was your fault.”

  He smiled. Then craning his head around in all directions, examining the surrounding plant life, he came to the conclusion that he couldn’t use anything there for disinfectant or antibiotics. He looked back down at Catherine’s damaged hands. The blood around the wounds was clotting now, the strips of cloth combined with pressure by tying it off was helping. Though slowly, allowing for blood to continue escaping, which still concerned him. His brow furrowed. “It will have to wait to be cleaned until we get back to the supplies in the car I’m afraid.”

  “We’re really bringing out the doctor in you today, aren’t we?” Danny laughed as he walked back a few paces towards them.

  “What are we going to do now, Bowen?” Catherine asked.

  Danny crossed his arms, “I thought we were going back to the car from here . . .”

  Bowen nodded. “We can still reset the curse,” he answered her.

  “But the staff is completely destroyed?” she said puzzled.

  “There is another way. I don’t know it though. We’ll have to find it.”

  “Where? That sort of information must have fallen with the ruins,” Danny asked.

  “Exactly,” Bowen stated, “I need to search my home, in the ruins.”

  “And where would that be?” Catherine asked, her eyebrows raised.

  “It shouldn’t be too difficult to find,” he said, though he looked unsure.

  “That’s reassuring,” Danny rolled his eyes, then threw up his hands. “Look you guys, I’ve got to find Síne, I can’t go with you on this escape, slash journey, slash goose hunt.”

  “Alone? Are yo
u kidding me?” Catherine said, appalled at the idea.

  “It’s my responsibility, and you don’t have time to look for her with me and go do this,” he replied.

  Catherine couldn’t believe that he would want to do such a thing. She didn’t want her brother to go off alone and possibly get killed. Síne could be anywhere by now, and he had nothing to keep him alive on his search.

  She opened her mouth to retort, but Bowen stepped in between them. “Stop!” his voice boomed. “I think we should worry about that when we get back to the car,” he said, also irritated at Danny’s persistence. “Let’s get there first.” He turned to walk and the others followed suit.

  Silently, Bowen planned to stay awake later and watch Danny, in case he tried to slip away. Feeling everything was some way or another his fault made him more convinced that he had to keep Catherine’s brother safe.

  The sun was setting now, and the three finally reached the spot under the mountain where they had camped days before. Upon stopping, Bowen turned to Catherine first. “Wait here, I’ll go see if I can find something small to eat nearby.” He looked down at her drained face, then said, “Danny, can you find some—” he looked behind her then stopped short. Catherine at first feared the hunter was back, and whipped around to grab her brother. But Danny had disappeared.

  “Danny’s gone . . .” she said slowly.

  Bowen balled a fist, the last of the sunlight over the trees flickering in his eyes, and cursed under his breath.

  Terrified of losing her brother, Catherine’s hands began to shake again. She was slowly unraveling at the seams and turned away from Bowen to grab hold of anything. When nothing was there she fell to her knees and tore at the grass. What was she going to do? She knew she couldn’t go after Danny. She wouldn’t know where to start, even if she had the time. But time was running out. Finally she resigned to stick to the original plan. It was her only hope to save everyone, including her foolish brother. Catherine blamed everything on Conall. As much as she tried to forget, her need to kill him wouldn’t go away. She must do whatever it took, even if the road got bumpier along the way.