DoG (12 page)

“Why not? You think anyone is going to give us a decent Christian burial when we’re gone?”

“I may not be able to bury you,” Culann said, “but I’m not just going to leave you.”

“Oh, that’s just great,” Williams said. “After I’m dead, a child molester is going to defile my body. I’d rather you just let me rot.”

“Fine,” Schuler said, “he’ll let you rot. I’m going to help him deal with the rest of these people.”

Williams stayed in the bar while Culann and Schuler went to work. They figured the simplest way to deal with so many bodies was to put them all in one of the shacks and set it on fire. They would need to choose one away from the view of the mainland to keep from luring anyone over. The problem was that the cabins furthest from mainland were surrounded by trees which could easily catch fire and set the whole island ablaze.

“What about your boat?” Culann asked. “We could probably stack everyone

onboard and light it on fire, like a Viking funeral.”

Schuler laughed and covered her mouth. Then she pulled her hand away and

laughed again.

79

“I guess there’s nothing wrong with a little laughing,” she said, “since it’s going to be my ass on top of the pile.”

By the time the sun dipped near the horizon, which is as low as it would get for another few weeks, Schuler and Culann had loaded fifteen dead bodies, including Frank’s, into the police boat. Culann looked one last time at his cousin’s serene face before covering it with another body. They’d found an old wheelbarrow that made the task a little easier, although Culann couldn’t push it because he still had his hands cuffed.

Schuler said that she didn’t see the harm in letting him go, but Williams was liable to shoot him if his hands were free. Culann agreed with her.

“Do you think he might shoot me anyway?”

“I don’t think so, but who knows what a man’s capable of doing his last night on Earth.”

“Maybe I should keep my distance. Do you think it would be okay if I slept over at Frank’s place?”

“I don’t care. Which one is Frank’s?”

“The one on the end,” he said, pointing. “There’s some beer left in the refrigerator if you’d like to join me for a nightcap.”

“Drinking with a fugitive in my custody breaks about fifteen different regulations, but I don’t see the harm, under the circumstances. I might as well try to enjoy what’s left of my life.”

The two trudged down the road. Alphonse kept close to Culann while the other dogs orbited around. Culann held the door to the shack open for Schuler and Alphonse before squeezing himself in ahead of the other dogs who all surged forward to join them.

A floppy-eared pitbull and a big collie that looked like Lassie snuck in before Culann could wedge the door shut, but he managed to keep the bulk of the pack from overwhelming them inside. The others howled at the front door for a few minutes before plopping down in a great drowsy mass out front.

Schuler sat on Frank’s couch while Culann grabbed two beers from the

refrigerator. He handed one to Schuler with his hands still bound.

“You want those off now?” she asked.

Culann glanced out the window to make sure Williams wasn’t around. When he saw that it was clear, he held his arms out. Schuler drew a small key from her belt and released the handcuffs. Two red lines rang his wrists.

“Free at last,” he said with a smirk.

“For now,” she said. “You know that if me or Williams lives through the night, we’re going to have to take you in. Plus, we didn’t check in like we were supposed to.

They are probably already sending more officers to look for us. It won’t be long before they think to look here.”

“Then they’re going to die, too. How can we stop them from coming?”

80

“We can’t. There’s a warrant out for your arrest, and this place is your last known whereabouts. The fact that two cops disappeared trying to find you is not exactly going to take the heat off. They’re probably going to send in the FBI or maybe the National Guard.”

“Jesus. I can’t be responsible for that many people dying.”

“You’re awfully worried about other people for a sex offender,” she said with a chuckle.

Culann had had enough of these types of jokes over the last few weeks, so he turned away from Schuler and sipped his beer.

“Lighten up, Mr. Riordan. Can’t you at least humor a dying girl?”

“Okay, fine. Just to be clear, I’m not a child molester and I’m not a pervert. I exercised some bad judgment with a girl who was sixteen.”

“Don’t worry about it. Hell, sixteen-year-olds are legal in Alaska. You should have just done it up here.”

“I suppose you’re right,” he said. “But isn’t Alaska the place you go
after
you screw up?”

“For some, I suppose. I was born here.”

“Fair enough. What about your parents? Were they running from something?”

“Probably,” she said. “I never met my dad, but I don’t imagine he was particularly law-abiding. He dragged my mom up here and then split about a month after I was born.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“I got over it a long time ago. At this point, I’m a little more worried about dying.”

“You don’t seem that worried.”

“Now that we’re sitting still, it’s sinking in. It was better when we were hauling carcasses all over the island.”

“Maybe you won’t die. I can’t be the only one who’s immune.”

“Maybe,” she said. “You got any more beer?”

He sprang up and went to the kitchen. The dogs followed him. When he returned with two beers, they lay back down on the floor.

“So what is it about young girls, Mr. Riordan?”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“It was just one time with one girl,” he said.

“Okay, but is that the only time you ever thought about it?”

“No.”

81

“So what is it? You got a problem with girls your own age?”

“No, it’s not like that. I’ve dated plenty of women my own age. I don’t think it’s really got anything to do with how old they are. I just seem to have a hard time controlling myself around beautiful women. And some of them just happen to be a little young, that’s all.”

“You having a hard time controlling yourself around me?” she asked with a grin.

“No.”

“So am I ugly then?”

“No, not at all. I was just—”

“I’m just playing with you,” Schuler said, laughing. “It helps me keep my mind off the situation.”

Culann turned and faced her. Schuler was squat and muscular with thick hips; she had a cop’s body. But there was beauty in her wide brown eyes and mischievous smile.

He realized that he may never again get a chance to be with a woman again, and found himself excited by Schuler’s strong femininity. He leaned in to kiss her.

She cuffed him hard across the jaw.

“I think you got the wrong idea, Mr. Riordan.”

“Sorry, I just figured that you might want some companionship, under the

circumstances.”

“That’s a very generous offer, but doing it with a sex offender in a dead man’s shack with three smelly hound-dogs staring at me is not exactly every girl’s fantasy.”

“I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

“Don’t worry about it,” she said. “I suppose I should be flattered. How about another beer?”

Culann fetched another couple of beers, and again the dogs followed him. Then the dogs outside began a calamitous barking. Schuler peeked out the windowsill.

“It’s Williams,” she said. “Put these back on.”

She tossed the handcuffs to Culann, who dropped them. He bent down and

latched the cuffs on his left wrist. He pressed his right wrist into the other end, which clicked into place just as the door swung open. Williams stood in the doorway, dead drunk, with a nearly-empty Jim Beam bottle in his left hand and his gun in his right.

“Let’s go, Mr. Riordan,” he said. “You’re coming with me.”

82

4

Culann marched down Pyrite’s only road with Williams’ gun pressed against his spine. Schuler followed behind, pleading for Williams to put the gun away. The dogs cheerfully cantered along beside as if they were all heading to the park instead of an execution.

Williams led them to the police boat, already laden with corpses. He shoved Culann towards it and motioned for him to climb aboard. Culann took a long step from the dock onto the boat and then stumbled forward onto McGillicuddy.

“If this is where we’re putting the dead bodies,” Williams said, “this is where you’re going.”

“Knock it off,” Schuler said. “This isn’t funny.”

“I’m not joking,” he replied. “If we die tonight, then this sicko gets off scot free. I can’t let that happen.”

“If we die tonight, then it doesn’t matter what happens to him.”

“Of course it matters. There is good and evil in this world. Our job is to protect the good and punish the evil. He must be punished.”

“Not like this,” Schuler said.

Culann kept his mouth shut, afraid that anything he’d say might antagonize Williams beyond the point of no return. He was going to have to let Schuler plead his case for him and hope that she knew her partner well enough to talk him out of this.

“This is the only way,” Williams said.

“Be reasonable,” Schuler said. “He’s charged with statutory rape of a sixteen-year-old. You don’t get the death penalty for that. He’s going to be stuck on this island by himself. That’s like a prison sentence. He will be punished.”

“Bullshit. Rapists don’t just get a prison sentence. You know what a prison sentence would be like for this pervert.”

“That may be true, but we don’t even know if he’s guilty. All we know is some prosecutor in Illinois thinks he did something wrong. There hasn’t been a trial. He’s entitled to a trial.”

“Fine by me,” Williams said. “We’ll have one right now.”

He stepped forward and aimed the gun at Culann’s head.

“Did you do what they said you did?” he asked.

“Please, put the gun down,” Schuler said.

“I asked you a question,” he shouted to Culann.

“This isn’t right,” Schuler said. “Stop it.”

“You have three seconds to answer the question. Did you fuck an underage girl?”

83

Culann thought carefully about how to answer. He considered lying, although he doubted it would save his life. He figured that since he was probably dead either way, he might as well keep his self-respect. He was far from an admirable man, but he had a certain sense of honor, honor that he’d come to Alaska to try to win back. He didn’t want to go to his grave groveling for his life.

“Yes,” Culann said.

The sound of a gunshot boomed across the island and bounced off the waves of the sea. Culann clenched all of the muscles in his body in the hopes that this would somehow cause the bullet to miss him. He went numb, dropping to his knees atop two corpses. Then he exhaled and searched for the bullet hole.

It took him a while to find it. He felt his head, patted down his chest, and ran his hands over his arms and legs. Finally, he looked up and saw Williams crumpled onto the pier with a bloodstain spreading across his chest. Schuler holstered her weapon and bent down to check her partner’s pulse.

“Thank you,” Culann said.

“Don’t say anything,” Schuler replied. She looked like she was fighting to keep from crying. She straightened up, rubbed her eyes and turned her back on Culann.

“Just let me die.”

84

5

Culann awoke amidst a pile of slumbering dogs in Frank’s bed. He was sweating, and his handcuffed wrists ached. He crawled over Alphonse to get off the bed and then went to the bathroom. When he finished, he realized that the plumbing in Frank’s shack was run by electric pumps, which were no longer functioning. If he lived much longer, he was going to have to get used to life without running water.

Since the sink didn’t work, Culann had to rely on the contents of Frank’s

refrigerator to slake his thirst. All he could find were cans of beer that were barely below room temperature. He choked one down and then set off to see if Schuler had made it through the night. He walked out of Frank’s cabin, not bothering to shut the door behind him. The last time he’d seen her, she’d gone into Alistair’s tavern, so that’s where Culann looked first. The dogs shook themselves awake and lolled after him. The sun hung in its usual position in the middle of the sky, giving Culann no idea what time it was.

When he arrived at Alistair’s, Culann found Schuler hunched over the bar with her arms wrapped around a whiskey bottle. He couldn’t tell if she was dead drunk or dead. The dogs began to whimper, which Culann knew wasn’t a good sign. He placed his hand on her neck. It was cold.

Schuler had saved him, and Culann was grateful for it. He vowed to remember her for the rest of his life, however short it might be. But he’d seen enough dead bodies recently that he didn’t dwell too hard on her passing. He had his own survival to worry about.

First, he went behind the bar and found a few bottles of club soda. He guzzled one and half of another. After a long belch, he started looking for the key to Schuler’s handcuffs. He searched her utility belt, which was a bit difficult because she was slumped forward, but he eventually found a small key in a velcro pouch. He pulled the key out and then realized that unlocking the handcuffs was going to be more challenging than he’d imagined. The cuffs held his wrists tightly together, and the keyhole was on the underside of the cuffs. It took a considerable amount of painful contortion just to get the key into position. Once he had it in the hole, his fingers were stretched so far he couldn’t twist the key in the lock. Twice he dropped the key and had to start all over. By the time he finally coaxed the latch to spring open, the cuffs had scraped away patches of skin on both wrists.

He sat down at the bar next to Schuler’s corpse to rest for a few minutes. He finished the second bottle of club soda and then took a swig from Schuler’s whiskey bottle. He had to get back to the entirely unpleasant task of loading corpses onto the police boat before the bodies decayed or got eaten by the dogs. Culann started with Schuler. Figuring they might come in handy, he first stripped off her binoculars and utility belt and laid them atop the bar. Since she was slumped over in her seat, it was relatively easy for him to position his shoulders underneath her body and pick her up in a fireman’s carry. His legs wobbled as he lurched toward the door, but he managed to slide through and deposit her into the wheelbarrow. He pushed her down the pier and then came upon Williams’ blood-soaked body. Culann cursed and then grabbed Williams by the legs and dragged him to the police boat. The slats of the pier didn’t make for a very smooth surface, and Williams was a large man. When Culann finally reached the end of 85