Dark Mountain (2 page)

“I tell you, Nick, Vietnam was safer than these freeways. Goddamn truckers. Run you down as soon as look at you. Best thing to do is stay out of their way.”

Nick glanced at him. The boy still looked shaky. “Too bad this isn’t an F-8,” Nick said. “We could blow them off the road.”

“Thataboy. I tell you, we did our share of that, Scott and me. Nailed whole convoys along the Ho Chi Minh Trail. Blasted the shit out of ’em.”

“
Ar
nold,” Alice complained from the backseat. She’d heard that one. He glanced around. The twins were asleep, Rose slumped against the door with Heather leaning against her.

“I’ll keep it down,” he said in a quiet voice.

“Keep it clean.”

He tapped off a length of ash, and took a long draw on his cigar. Smoke swirled around his face.
Smoke filled the cockpit. “Blue Leader, this is Flash. Caught a hot one
.”

He shook his head sharply, trying to dislodge the memory as his heart began to thunder and his stomach twisted into an icy coil. Oh, Christ!

The station wagon nosed downward, picking up speed.

“Take it slow,” he warned.

Nick looked at him and frowned. “Are you okay, Dad?”

“Sure. Fine.” He wiped the sweat from his face. He started remembering again. “Well well well,” he said quickly to block off the thoughts. “We’re over the hump now. The old buggy made it over the Grapevine once again. Gonna be hot as blue blazes in the valley. Good thing we’ve got our air-conditioning.”

“I offered ’em down, Ettie.”

She gazed at the naked bodies of the young man and woman stretched out side by side in front of the tent. The man was facedown, a terrible wound across the back of his neck. The woman, on her back, was bruised and torn. Ettie saw bite marks on her mouth and chin, on her shoulders and breasts. The left nipple was missing entirely.

“I offered
him
with a hatchet,” Merle said, rubbing his hands on the legs of his jeans and trying to smile. “The gal, I plain choked her.”

“Looks like you did more than that,” Ettie muttered.

“She was pretty.”

“Merle, you haven’t got the sense of a toadstool.”

Her son tugged the bill of his faded Dodgers cap down to hide his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he said.

“What’re we gonna do with you?”

He shrugged. He toed a pine cone with his tennis shoe. “
You
do it,” he argued.

“Only when He speaks to me.”

“He spoke to me, Ettie. Honest He did. I never would’ve done it, but He asked me to.”

“You sure you weren’t just feeling horny?”

“No, ma’am. He spoke to me.”

“I saw you yesterday spying on these two. I was afraid you might pull a stunt like this, but I trusted you, fool that I am. I should’ve known better.” She glared at Merle. The bill of
his cap rose for a moment as he looked at her. Then it dipped down again. “What did you promise me?”

“I know,” he mumbled. “I
said
I’m sorry.”

“What did you promise me?” she repeated.

“Not to do it again without asking.”

“But you went ahead and did it anyway.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“This is gonna make it hot for us, Merle.”

In the shadow of the ball cap, she saw a thin smile. “You just can’t take me anywhere.”

“Wipe that smile off your face.”

“It isn’t
that
bad, Ettie. I already looked through their stuff. They didn’t have any fire permit.”

“So?”

He tipped back the bill, no longer afraid of meeting Ettie’s gaze. “If they’d checked in with a ranger, they would’ve got one and said where they were going. But they didn’t. So the rangers don’t even know they’re here.”

“Well, that’s something.”

“Even if someone knows they’re gone, nobody’s gonna have the first notion where to look. We’ll just bury ’em and take their stuff to the cave, and we’ll be okay.”

Ettie sighed, folded her arms across her bosom, and stared down at the bodies. “I’ll put out a spell to ward off searchers, just in case.”

Merle looked doubtful. “Maybe I better.”

“I can still conjure circles around you, boy, and don’t you forget it. I got us safe out of Fresno, no thanks to you. If you’d had the sense to fetch me what I needed—”

“I was seen.”

“Wouldn’t have taken you half a minute,” she said. Merle stood silent, watching as she knelt beside the man’s body. She untied a leather pouch from her belt and opened it. “Never should’ve taught you the Ways.”

“Don’t say that, Ettie.”

“Made us no end of trouble.” She wrapped her fingers
around a lock of hair, and yanked it from the man’s scalp. She pressed the hair into the raw gorge at the back of his neck. Thick blood coated the strands. She twisted them into a string, knotted them once in the center, and poked them into her pouch. Then she lifted his hand. The fingernails were chewed to the quick. She unsheathed her knife, pressed the blade to the cuticle of his index finger, and removed the entire nail. She dropped it into her pouch and stepped over to the woman.

Squatting beside the body, she ripped out a ringlet of hair. She squeezed the breast to force more blood to the surface, and dabbed the hair in it. She tied the sticky cord into a knot. She flicked it into her pouch, then picked up a hand. The plum fingernail polish was chipped. One nail was broken, but the rest were long and neatly rounded. She pared off the tips of four, catching them in her palm, and brushed them into her bag.

“Now, that’s all there is to it,” she said, looking up at Merle. “Wouldn’t have taken you half a minute, and I could’ve laid down a dandy spell and we’d still be in Fresno today. You didn’t even have to take blood. If you’d just had the good sense to bring me hair and nails, I’d have had the essence to throw a cover on us.”

“I like it here fine,” he mumbled.

“Well, I don’t.” Her knees crackled as she straightened up. “I like my creature comforts, Merle. I like a good meal and a cold beer and nice clothes and a soft bed.”

“And men,” he added, showing a sliver of a smile.

“That’s the truth.” She pushed her knife into its sheath at the side of her dress, and started tying the pouch to her belt. “You deprived me of all that ’cause you were horny and careless.”

“I told you, Ettie. He spoke to me.”

She didn’t believe him. “Don’t go laying off your blame, Merle. Now, you take care of the burying and bring up their things to the cave. I’ll come along and check before
sundown, and I want to see this place looking like nobody was ever here. Do you understand?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“And if you ever offer down again without my say-so, you’ll be the sorriest young man that ever walked on two legs.”

He looked down at his feet. “Yes, ma’am.”

Leaving him there, Ettie made her way along the rock-bound shore. At the narrow, southern tip of the lake where its feeder stream splashed down from Upper Mesquite, she crouched and cupped water to her mouth. Even after spending a month up here, she still couldn’t get over the cold, fresh taste of it. Hard to believe that water could be so fine. She knew she would miss it in September, when they had to leave. Wouldn’t miss anything else, though: not the heat steaming off the rocks, or the mosquitoes, or the wind that tore around at night so loud it often kept her awake, or the cold when the sun went down, or the hard ground she slept on. She’d be glad to leave all that behind. Not the water, though.

She unsnapped the canvas bag of her canteen, and pulled out the aluminum bottle. After twisting off its cap, she upended it. The old water burbled out. She held the empty canteen under a lip of mossy rock, gripping it tightly as fresh water washed over her hand. When the bottle overflowed, she capped it, then slipped it back into the case. It felt heavy and good against her hip as she stood up.

Staying close to the stream, she climbed up pale, broken slabs of granite to the ridge between the two lakes. She turned slowly, scanning the slopes that rose high above her. Then she peered toward the trail slanting down from Carver Pass beyond the northern end of Lower Mesquite. Once every few days, backpackers hiked by. Until yesterday, when those two stayed and camped, Merle had been just fine.

Blast Merle. Damn and shit!

The trail was deserted now. More than likely, if anyone
should show up today, it wouldn’t be till the afternoon. The pass was a hard, three-hour climb from the nearest lake to the east, so Merle should have plenty of time to take care of the mess. Besides, there was the spell.…

Stepping onto a flat surface of rock, Ettie unbuckled her belt with all its gear. She set it at her feet and opened the buttons of her faded, shapeless dress. She pulled the dress up over her head. Except for her heavy socks and boots, she was naked. She felt the sun on her skin, the caress of soft breezes. The air smelled hot. It smelled of scorched pine needles, of baking rock.

Bending over, she spread her dress across the granite. Then she sat on it. Through the thin layers of fabric, the rock felt hard and rough. The heat seeped through, stinging her buttocks as she removed her boots and damp socks.

When they were off, she untied the leather pouch from her belt. She crossed her legs and sat upright, with her back arched, her head straight forward. With both hands, she clasped the pouch to her breastbone.

“Into darkness,” she whispered, “I commit the essence of my foes. As their essence is obscured, so let all traces of their presence be banished from this canyon, that those who seek them might find no cause to trespass here.”

Lowering her head, she opened the drawstrings of the pouch. She pulled out a bloody lock of hair and placed it into her mouth. She chewed slowly, working it into a sodden clump, and swallowed it. She did the same with the second coil of hair. She washed them down with water from her canteen. Then she dumped the fingernails onto her palm, raised them to her lips, and ate them. She drank some more water.

The rock was rough and hot through her dress. The hair felt thick and heavy in her stomach.

But she was done.

She smiled. She raised the canteen and poured its cold water over her head. It streamed down her face, her shoulders. It rolled down her back. It spilled over her breasts,
dripped from her nipples, ran down her belly and sides. Moving the canteen, she let the water fall onto her crossed legs, her groin. She sighed at its icy touch.

Too soon the canteen was empty.

She stared at the glinting blue of Upper Mesquite. Why not? She deserved a treat. Leaving everything, she skipped over the searing rocks to the shore. She waded in, shivering and gasping, and hesitated only a moment before plunging headlong.

They stopped at a gas station in Fresno. Rolling down his window, Julie’s father asked the teenaged attendant to “fill her up with super unleaded and check under the hood.”

With the window open, heat rushed into the car. Julie fanned her face with her book.

“Guess I’ll make a pit stop,” Karen said.

“Me, too,” said Benny.

They both climbed out.

“Julie?” Dad asked.

“I’ll wait till they’re back.” She watched them walk through the glaring sunlight toward the side of the station. Benny was smiling up at the woman, grinning and talking.

“Benny seems to really like Karen,” Dad said.

“I noticed.” The two disappeared around a corner of the garage.

“I think you’d like her, too, if you gave her half a chance.”

“What have I done?” Julie blurted.

“It’s your attitude.”

“I can’t help it if I’m not crazy about her. What am I supposed to do, worship the ground she walks on?”

“There’s no call for sarcasm.”

“
I
didn’t ask her to come with us.”

“Well,
I
did, and I’d appreciate it if you’d get your act together. You’ve been miserable all morning.”

“I am miserable.” Her throat tightened. She suddenly felt as if she might start blubbering.

Dad looked around at her. “What’s the matter, honey?” he asked in a gentle voice.

“Nothing,” she mumbled.

“What is it?”

“I don’t see why I even had to come.” Tears filled her eyes. She stared out the window at the gas pumps. “I should’ve stayed home with Tanya. You don’t want me here anyway.”

“Of course I do.”

“No you don’t. You’ve got Karen. You don’t need Benny and me.”

“Look, if I’d wanted to be alone with Karen, would I have insisted you come with us? I could’ve left you home easily enough, but I wanted you and Benny along. Hell, it wouldn’t be half as much fun without you two. Now come on, buck up, old girl. Let’s see a smile.”

Julie wiped her eyes, but didn’t try to smile.

“Come on.”

The squeak of a squeegee drew her eyes to the young attendant. He was grinning down at her through the passenger window as he scraped away the dirty water.

“Here they come,” Dad told her. “Why don’t you go on ahead?”

With a nod, she opened her door. She slid out and stepped toward the rear of the car.

“It’s around back,” Karen said as they passed.

“Thanks.” Walking away, she glanced over her shoulder. The boy at the windshield met her eyes. She smiled at him, and continued on her way.

The heat brought sweat to her forehead. She wondered if the boy was watching, admiring the way she looked in her T-shirt and tight white shorts.

The restroom was shadowy and stifling. She quickly relieved herself. At the sink, she splashed tepid water onto her face and looked at herself in the mirror. Her eyes were rimmed with red from crying. Her hair was slightly mussed. She wished she’d brought her brush along. She combed her fingers through her hair and patted the swept-back sides.
Her T-shirt looked loose and baggy. Opening her shorts again, she pulled it down firmly and tucked it in. She looked down at herself. The shirt was taut over her breasts, emphasizing them. The white lace of her bra was clearly visible through the stretched fabric.

She smiled at her reflection. She winked at herself. Then she stepped out of the restroom into the glaring sunlight.

The car was still at the pumps, but the boy was gone. She spotted him through the windows of the office. At the car, she put her hands on the sill of Karen’s open window and looked in. “Dad, could we get some Cokes or something?”

“Yeah!” Benny said.

“Sure. Why not?” Dad shifted his weight to reach for the wallet in his back pocket.

“Let me,” Karen said. “My treat.”

“No,” Dad said. “That’s—”

“I insist.” She took a billfold from her handbag. After a moment of searching, she said, “I guess I don’t have any change,” and gave Julie a five-dollar bill. “Why don’t you pick up some chips or something, if they’ve got ’em?”

“I’ll come with you,” Benny said, and burst from the car.

“What’ll you have, Dad?”

“Root beer or Coke.”

“Karen?”

The woman smiled at her. “Mountain Dew, or Dr. Pepper. If they haven’t got one of those, a cola’d be fine.”

Benny raced ahead of her to the office, and planted himself in front of the soft-drink vending machine. Julie, feeling a flutter of anticipation, took a deep breath and entered. “Hi,” she said to the boy behind the desk.

He got to his feet and swept a hank of brown hair away from his forehead. “Hi. Can I help you?”

Julie held the bill out to him. “Could we have some change for your machines?”

He smiled. “Sure thing.” He leaned over the desk. As he reached out, his eyes lowered from Julie’s face to her breasts
to her extended arm. He took the money. “You’ll be wanting quarters,” he said. He broke a fresh roll of them into the open drawer of the cash register. The patch above his shirt pocket read
TIM
. “Are you from around here?” he asked.

“From Los Angeles. We’re on our way to the mountains.”

“Yeah? Camping?”

“We’ll be backpacking out of Black Butte.”

“No kidding? I’ve been there. That’s real nice country.” He counted out quarters, and dropped them four at a time into Julie’s palm, his fingers sometimes brushing her.

“Thank you, Tim.”

He beamed, and nodded.

Turning away, Julie gave the coins to Benny. “Here, you get the stuff. You know what everybody wants?”

“Sure.” With the quarters clutched in his hand, he stepped up close to the soft-drink dispenser. Julie went back to Tim.

“Do you work here all the time?” she asked.

“Whenever I can. My dad’s the owner.”

“Don’t you get awfully hot?”

“Oh, you get used to it.”

“I don’t think I would.”

“It’s not so bad.” He stepped around the desk and sat on its edge. “You’ve got a nice tan,” he said, looking at her legs.

“Thanks.”

“I bet you go to the beach a lot, being in Los Angeles and everything.”

“Yeah.” She considered explaining about their backyard swimming pool. Tim might think she was bragging, though. “I really like the ocean,” she said.

“We’ve got the river,” he said, “and some lakes. I’ll go over to Millerton or Pine Flat. They aren’t far. We take the boat over when—” The double ring of a bell interrupted him. He peered out the window. A pickup was rolling to a stop beside the pumps. With a sigh of disappointment that pleased Julie, he pushed himself off the desk. “Well, I’ve gotta go. Have a good trip, now. Stop in on your way back if you get a chance.”

“Okay. ’Bye, Tim.”

He left the office. On his way toward the pickup, he looked over his shoulder and waved. Julie waved back.

Benny had set the four soft-drink cans on the floor to free his hands. He punched a number on the snack machine. Inside the display window, a clamp opened, dropping a small pack of barbecued potato chips into a trough.

Julie picked up the chilly, wet cans. Benny gathered up four packs of chips and Fritos. Together, they left the office.

At her door, Julie watched Tim lift the hood of the pickup. “So long,” she called.

“Stop by again,” he said.

Then she climbed into the car. She passed around the drinks, poured the remaining change into Karen’s hand, and thanked her.

As they pulled away, she looked out the rear window. Tim was wiping a dipstick with a red rag.

“He seemed like a nice young fellow,” Dad said.

“His father owns the station,” Julie said.

“Oh? Checked him out, did you?”

“I didn’t ‘check him out.’ We were just talking, that’s all.”

“Baloney and liver sausage,” Benny said.

“He looked like he was about Nick’s age,” Dad told her.

“Nick?”

“Flash’s son. You remember him? The company picnic?”

“Unh-uh.”

“Well, that was about five or six years ago. I think you ran the three-legged race with him.”

“Oh,
him
.” She smiled. “We won that. He’s Mr. Gordon’s son?”

“Yep. He’s seventeen now.”

“Oh, yeah?” Maybe this wouldn’t turn out to be such a rotten vacation after all.

“Ow!” Heather cried, clutching the back of her hand.

“Rose, play nice.”

“I didn’t hit her hard.”

Alice Gordon gave her daughter a warning scowl. She considered calling a stop to the game, but Heather had already hidden her hand behind her back, ready to continue.

“One, two, three,” Rose said. Her open hand darted out.

Heather, at the same instant, swung her hand into view with two fingers extended. “Aha! Scissors cut paper!”

Rose presented her hand. Heather slapped it hard, getting even.

“Didn’t hurt,” Rose taunted.

They got ready for another match. “One, two, three,” Rose said.

Heather came out with scissors again. As Rose’s flat hand swung forward, it closed into a fist. “Rock breaks scissors,” she declared.

“No fair!” Heather cried out. “You cheated. Didn’t she, Mom? You saw her! She was paper!”

Nick looked around from the passenger seat. “Is Rose cheating again?”

“Yes!” Heather blurted.

“I think we’ve had enough of this game,” Alice said. “Why don’t you find something nice to play? Twenty Questions or Hangman.”

“I get to slap her!” Heather protested. “She was paper!”

“No more slapping.”

“But I won!”

“Kids!” Arnold snapped. He was driving and didn’t look back. “Do as your mother says.”

“But, Daaaad!”

“You heard me.”

Heather sighed as if the world were unfair. She narrowed her eyes at Rose. “Cheater.”

With a long-suffering smile, Rose offered her hand. “Go ahead and give it to me.”

“Mom, can I?”

“Oh, I don’t care. Just once, then I want you both to find something better to do.”

Heather slapped downward. Rose’s hand shot out from
under the path of the blow, and smacked the back of Heather’s descending hand. “Hey!”

Rose laughed. So did Nick. Heather punched her sister’s knee.

“That’s enough!” Alice snapped. “Stop it!”

“I think I’ll pull over and tan some hides,” Arnold said.

“No!” Heather yelped.

“We’ll be good,” Rose said. “Promise.”

“All right then. Now, do as your mother says and play something nice.”

“Better yet,” Nick said, “take a nap.”

Rose rolled her eyes upward. “Are we almost there yet?”

“A couple more hours,” Arnold told her.

The idea of a nap certainly appealed to Alice. She took the pillow from the space between her and Heather, fluffed it up, and placed it behind her head. Snuggling back against it, she closed her eyes. In quiet voices, the twins were discussing whether to play Hangman. She heard a rustle of paper. Good. That should keep them out of mischief for ten or fifteen minutes.

She wondered if Arnold had remembered to set the lamp timer before they left. No point bothering to ask, though. If he’d forgotten, it was too late now.

Her mind drifted to the last time she’d seen Scott O’Toole. They’d gone over for dinner and bridge. Scott had complimented her on her perm. That must’ve been over a year ago, closer to two. How could June walk out on a man like him? Must be more to it than meets the eye. Maybe he was fooling around on the side. Sure had plenty of opportunity, being away half the time. And those flight attendants. Everyone knows how they are. June was no slouch, not by any stretch of the imagination, but a guy like Scott’d be a real prize for lonely stews. A lot of temptation there. Take a strong man to resist.

Thank God Arnold stopped flying. He might have to work nights when the shift bid didn’t go his way, but at least
he came home to his own bed and wasn’t alone in hotels all across the country. Would’ve been nice for him to have a pi lot’s pay and prestige, but she’d rather have him as he is. They got by just fine, thank you, and she didn’t have to spend all her time worrying.

Poor June must’ve been worried sick, wondering if he’d go down or get himself shacked up with some stew. Who was that—Jack?—no, Jake. Jake Peterson. Had a whole second family in Pittsburgh. Must’ve come as quite a shock to his wife—
both
wives. Wasn’t even a Mormon, not that that would’ve made it right, but…Alice’s thoughts slipped away as sleep overtook her.

The road up the mountainside had once been paved, but winter snow, spring runoff, and summer sun had broken up the asphalt, leaving a dusty shambles. The car bounced over ruts and potholes as Scott steered slowly up the grade.

Ahead, a Volkswagen appeared around a bend.

“What now?” Karen asked.

“He’s small.” Scott eased the car to the right until branches squeaked against its side. He stopped.

“Hope he’s careful,” Karen said. She was gripping the armrest.

“If he’s not,” Scott told her, “he’ll have a very thrilling ride for a few seconds.”

A girl in the passenger seat of the VW had her head out the window. She was looking down, apparently contemplating just such a ride. From her perspective, Scott imagined that the sheer drop-off must look bottomless. After a moment, she pulled her head in and said something to the driver.

The VW crawled closer. The young bearded man behind the wheel grinned at Scott as he inched alongside. “Lovely day,” he said.

“Yep,” Scott agreed. “How far to Black Butte?”

“Take you an hour.”

“The road get any better up ahead?”

“No. Tell you what, though, there’s an RV about a mile behind me.”

“Thanks for the warning.”

“Have a good one, friend.”

“You, too.”

The Volkswagen finished passing, took to the center of the narrow road, and sped off with a cloud of dust.

“A camper?” Karen asked. She looked sick.

“What’ll we do?” Julie asked from the back.

“I guess we’d do well to find a wider place in the road before he shows up.”

“No sweat. Right, Dad?” Benny asked.

“No sweat,” he said, and pulled away. He drove slowly, looking for a place to turn out. Ahead, the road bent back in an uphill hairpin. He took the curve. Now
they
were on the outside, the slope dropping away sharply to the right. “Maybe a little sweat,” Scott admitted. He picked up speed. The car lurched and jarred as it rushed up the grade.