Backtracker (61 page)

When he
wasn
'
t
watching the ground ahead for potentially noisy debris, Dave gazed into the woods, looking for Larry and the kid. Anxiously, he cast about for a glimpse of the kid
'
s white shirt or red sweatpants; either the two refugees were truly distant, or the trees and twining trail concealed them, for Dave
couldn
'
t
spy a trace of the pair.

Trusting that the psychic and his companion were somewhere ahead, even though they
weren
'
t
in sight, Dave and Billy forged onward. The narrow rut led them further into the woods, up hills and through gullies, around heaps of moss
-
blanketed rubble. Twice, the partners had to scramble over trees which had fallen across the path; they hopped over several little creeks, streams which had been starved by the dry spell between the winter thaw and spring rains.

Finally, unexpectedly, the trail gave way to a clearing. After climbing up a steep slope, Dave and Billy emerged at the rim of a great open space, a surprising vastness in which blue sky replaced tangled limbs overhead.

Some distance from the rim, about thirty yards from the end of the trail, a huge formation of rock shouldered into the space. Broad and blunt as the surfacing hump of a whale, the formation straddled the clearing, spanning it like a wall from side to side. The mass of rock was pale gray and beige, but the bright sunshine washed it white as beach
-
sand along the top; though cracks and separations were visible, the stone appeared generally smooth, worn edgeless like a pebble from a riverbed. While it was difficult to gauge the dimensions from the clearing
'
s fringe, the ridge
didn
'
t
seem to be very high,
didn
'
t
look as if it rose further than ten or twelve feet at its thickest point; still, it was an imposing and monolithic object.

Though
he'd
been panting as
he'd
clambered up the slope and into the clearing, Dave caught his breath when he saw the stony crest sprawling before him. For a moment, he was dumbstruck;
he'd
imagined that the woods would continue uninterrupted for acres, that he and Billy would hike for miles without seeing anything of interest...and yet, there it was, something massive, something significant...something that looked like a destination.

Dave stared at the great table of stone, wondering at its enormity, its relevance; then, abruptly, something stirred in his memory, kicked like an infant testing its womb. Frowning, Dave probed at the odd activity, groped for its source, strained to define it. Briefly, the agitation stilled, and he thought that it was gone for good...and then, there was another kick, and he knew.

Suddenly, he knew where he was.

"
Wolf
'
s Rock,
"
he whispered.
"
That
'
s Wolf
'
s Rock.
"

"
You know this place
?
"
asked Billy, keeping his voice low.

"
Uh
-
huh,
"
said Dave.
"
Haven
'
t been here for years, but my dad brought me out here a few times when I was a kid.
"

"
What is it
?
"
asked Billy.
"
Just a big rock?
"

"
Yeah. It
'
s full of little caves and crannies and stuff. I remember climbing around all through it.
"

"
Huh,
"
grunted Billy, staring pensively at the formation.
"
Well, let
'
s go see what the hell Larry
'
s doing here. Maybe he
'
s spelunking or something.
"

With Billy in the lead, the partners ran across the clearing to the right side of the great mound; it tapered to the ground there, slid down in a drift of boulders.

After signaling Dave to stay quiet, Billy boosted himself onto a fat boulder. Nimbly, he hopped onto the next stepping
-
stone, a flat
-
topped block which butted against the side of the massif. From the block, he strolled easily onto a ledge, then moved up a short, slight incline toward the surface of the formation; though he
didn
'
t
need to lean into the climb, he crouched, kept his head low, advanced slowly.

Keeping his eye on his comrade, Dave followed Billy
'
s route and hoisted himself onto the first boulder. When
he'd
reached the second step, the block, he paused, for Billy had gained the summit; the wiry guy perched at the top of the slope, hunched like a wary cat, slowly turning his head in a scan of the site.

Nervously, Dave waited, eyes fixed on his vigilant friend. At last, Billy gave the
go
-
ahead, waved without looking back; he stood straight and stepped away from the bank, moving out of sight as Dave clambered up behind him.

Hastily, Dave scooted over the lip of the formation; gazing over the broad plateau, he could see no one but Billy, standing a few yards away.

Dave walked over to stand beside his partner, silently joined him in examining the surroundings. The cap of the mound was quite flat, spread out smoothly with only a few minor bumps or distensions; the even surface had plenty of cracks, though, lots of fissures of varying width that marred its perfection. Some of the fissures were no more than hairlines, tiny fractures in the stone, while others were clefts wide enough for a man to fit through.

The plateau stretched for quite a distance from the edge nearest the partners. Its breadth cut the whole way across the large clearing, sprawled from one
tree line
to the other. Its length appeared to be even greater; from the flank where Dave and Billy stood, the table of stone fanned out to a faraway terminus, what looked like a drop
-
off with no trees beyond it. Dave thought that the slab seemed about as long as a football field, though the drop
-
off may have enhanced his impression of its size.

Neck stiff, eyes alertly shifting back and forth, Billy began to walk; with Dave at his side and a little behind him, he took a few steps, then stopped. Head cocked slightly, he listened for a moment; Dave did the same, but all that he could hear was the low whisper of the wind.

Stopping and listening every few steps, Billy and Dave continued to walk further out onto the plateau. Cautiously, silently, they inched along, stepping over the thinner, veiny fissures, navigating around the wider gashes in the rock. As they skirted the larger cracks, they carefully peered into them; some dropped to a visible floor of earth or stone, but a few enfolded darkness which hinted at greater depths.

After some minutes of halting progress, Billy discontinued the practice of pausing at frequent intervals. He was still stiffly alert, and he maintained a slow pace, but he
didn
'
t
stop after every few feet that he covered. Moving in an arc from the edge of the formation, he preceded Dave toward the middle, led the way in the general direction of the center of the great flat.

As the partners gradually advanced, Dave continued to listen and scan the terrain; he neither heard nor saw a trace of another human being
aside from Billy and himself.
In the absence of a signal, of a clear or subtle indication of Larry
'
s location, Dave concentrated harder, focused all of his senses with greater intensity on the search...all the while wondering if Larry was even in the vicinity, if
he'd
somehow managed to elude him already.

Long minutes passed. Dave and Billy drew nearer to the center of the plateau, and still there was only the breeze and the sun and the rock.

Then, abruptly, Billy Bristol stopped walking. Dave was so absorbed in the hunt that he almost collided with the guy, caught himself with a stumble.

"
What...,
"
started Dave, and then Billy shot a hand in the air, demanding silence. Frowning, Dave moved to stand alongside his friend; he stared at him, trying to figure out why
he'd
stopped.

Billy
'
s head was again cocked in a listening attitude; his eyes were unfocused, rolled up and to one side. He was perfectly still except for the slight flutter of his sandy hair in the breeze.

Desperately curious, Dave gazed over the slab, looking for something that might have attracted Billy
'
s interest; he saw nothing new. He listened carefully, straining to eke a new sound from the murmuring wind; he heard nothing.

Billy continued to stand there as if mesmerized. After another minute, Dave could wait no longer; failing to detect whatever had entranced his friend, he nudged Billy
'
s arm.

"
What is it
?
"
he whispered.
"
Did you hear something?
"

Still listening, Billy slowly nodded.

"
So what is it
?
"
pressed Dave.

"
There it is again,
"
whispered Billy, and Dave heard it...a faint rustling, a scraping. It
wasn
'
t
the sound of tree limbs rasping in the breeze; it could have been the sound of an animal...or a person.

Dave looked around and listened intently, struggling to pinpoint the source of the noise; it seemed to be coming from somewhere up ahead, but it was so dim that he could define no more than a general direction. He inspected the next reach of the plateau, but
couldn
'
t
decide on a likely point of origin; there were many fissures ahead, some rather wide, and he supposed that the sound could have been coming from one of them...but it was impossible to specify which one, or if indeed the sound was rising from any of them.

Wordlessly, Billy Bristol moved forward; head still cocked, he wandered to the left, took five steps and stopped. Dave followed and paused to listen...and the rustling seemed nearer. It indeed seemed to be coming from the stone, from within the stone.

With painstaking slowness, the partners proceeded. They took several more steps, then stopped and listened again...and the sounds were still louder, still closer. There was a rustling, a scuffing, a faint crack; as he focused on them, Dave became more confident that their source was indeed one of the wide rifts just a few yards away.

The partners slowly approached the nearest fissure; even before Billy glanced into it and shook his head, Dave could tell that the sounds
weren
'
t
coming from that first gash. As Billy crept on to the next one, Dave looked inside anyway...and indeed, the space was empty, just ragged rock walls and a dirt floor.

A few feet away, to the right, there was another, wider fissure. This, too, was vacant; Dave and Billy inched up to it, shot hasty glances downward, saw nothing but stone and shadows.

Straightening, Billy paused then, eyed the other crevices in the area. He listened; at last, he headed for another wide fissure several yards ahead. Cautiously, he padded toward it, then halted at its edge.

Frowning, listening, Dave came up beside his partner; though the noises were near, very near, he
couldn
'
t
be sure that they were rising from the cleft by which he now stood. There was more rustling, another c
racking noise, and they seemed
to be down in the immediate trough...but there were other cuts in the stone just a few feet away, and he thought that one of them could just as easily be the source of the sounds.

Abruptly, the noises ceased. Billy looked as if
he'd
been about to steal a glance into the trench, but he
didn
'
t
budge for a moment. Head bowed, he hovered there, but the noises
didn
'
t
resume; he threw a sideways glance at Dave, then returned his gaze to the gap before him.

Another moment passed. Billy inched closer to the edge, tipped slightly forward. Still, the silence was unbroken.

Dave held his breath.

Billy bobbed his head toward the crevice...then hesitated. He looked around, glanced at Dave, then returned to a stance of tense readiness. Hair stirring in the breeze, he slowly leaned forward.