Hunting Season (24 page)

The water bottle was less than half full. They hadn’t found any streams. Only a small patch of swampy water which smelt of rotten wood.

“These flowers aren’t bad.”

Henry lifted his head and saw his wife biting petals off a flower. “How do you know they’re not poisonous?”

“I don’t. But it’s something.”

She handed him a flower. Henry held it a few inches from his face, wondering how he’d ever arrived at the point where he now relied on a flower to keep him alive. Then he reminded himself that he’d gotten lost in the woods without any food.

The petals slipped off easily between his dried and cracked lips. He didn’t perceive any taste and couldn’t feel them slide down his throat. It was like eating air.

And this will keep me alive? Henry thought.

No, it wouldn’t. Henry knew they needed protein. They needed something with calories. But good old Claire wouldn’t permit him to kill even a rat.

Henry rose and walked away from Claire and her flowers.

After a few moments, a putrid stench hit his nose. Even though the smell was wretched, Henry’s stomach growled. A few more steps revealed a dead squirrel, decayed with big maggots feasting on its rotting flesh.

Nothing about the site disgusted Henry. Instead, his stomach rumbled even more. He dropped to his knees and picked up one of the maggots. It wiggled between his thumb and fore finger.

Henry’s mind said no but his stomach said yes. Search parties might right now be looking for them. Nate might have reported them missing and called in the cavalry. But Henry also considered the potential truth that no one searched for them. The maggots might give him the little bit of energy his body craved.

He opened his mouth and closed his eyes and dropped it on his tongue. It wiggled and his gag reflex kicked up but he stopped himself from spitting it out. The maggot crunched between Henry’s back molars before he let it wiggle again.

He thought eating the maggot would cause him to throw it back up. To his relief, and slight disgust, the maggot went down easily.

More maggots quickly followed. After Henry had cleared the exposed area of the carcass, he lifted it and found more of the would-be flies underneath. He palmed them and carried them to Claire.

“You’re crazy.”

Henry felt slightly insulted by her refusal to eat. “They’re protein.”

“They’re disgusting.”

“They’ll keep you alive better than those stupid flowers.”

“I’ll take my chances. It’s only been two days.”

Claire started humming.

The sound irritated Henry. How could she be so damn positive? They were lost in the woods.

Henry tilted his head back and popped the last few maggots down his gullet.

*  *  *  *  *

“When’s the helo get here?” Fred said.

Nate looked at his watch. “About thirty minutes. I better head back to meet it. I’ll coordinate with you from the air. You two okay leading the parties?”

Both Fred and Driscole nodded.

“Do you really think there are ghosts in these woods?” Driscole said.

Nate stepped over a rotting log and spat tobacco juice. “Sure, why not?”

“You believe in ghosts?”

“I believe in them more than werewolves or zombies or whatever other damn things are supposedly living here. And if ghosts are real, I think this is an appropriate, dark and miserable place for them to reside.”

 “You know what I heard?” Fred said.

Nate shook his head. “Can we focus on finding our two missing persons and let me go meet the helo? I’ve heard enough damn urban legends about Blackwater to fill three lifetimes.”

“Did you hear the one about the lost carnie show?”

“Yes, God damn it.” Nate spat again.

“I haven’t,” Driscole said.

Fred smiled and Nate gritted his teeth.

“You see,” Fred said, “Before w-w-two, during the Depression, this carnival rolls into town—”

“And it gets lost in the woods and none of the freaks or carnies are ever seen again now go take charge of your search party,” Nate said.

“That’s not how it happened and you sure know how to ruin a damn story, Nate.” Fred walked ahead, laughing.

“Why’s he laughing?” Driscole said.

“Because he likes getting me wound up,” Nate said. “Now get to your party and find those two before they’re just another couple of ghosts in Blackwater.”

*  *  *  *  *

Boy pointed through a bush. “There they are.”

Pa leaned over his shoulder to look. “I see them.”

Tracking them had been easy. The lost hikers left a trail even Hog could follow.

“Ready?” A deep grin carved itself along Pa’s mouth.

Energy rushed through Boy. Time to take them. Time to take her.

Boy tightened the grip on his knife. Pa held his sword at hip level. Hog stood behind them, ropes in hand.

“Let’s go,” Pa said.

*  *  *  *  *

The maggots did little to fulfill Henry’s hunger but they did give him a slight boost of energy. Enough energy for him to grab a sturdy stick and start to shape a spear out of it.

“What are you doing?” Claire said.

Henry continued to sharpen the tip against a rock. “Do you really think you can survive much longer on those petals? We need protein. No protein equals no energy to find water or other food or our car. We need it if we’ve got any hope of getting out of here.”

Claire pointed at the spear-in-progress. “And what are you going to do with that?”

“I’m going to kill the next animal I see.”

The bushes around them seemed to explode. Henry’s head jerked toward the sound. A man with a long beard rushed toward him, a sword in his right hand.

Claire screamed.

Henry’s eyes switched to his wife. A young kid, probably a teenager, had tackled her to the ground and held a knife over her face.

The fight response in Henry kicked in. His hairs stood on end as he jumped to his feet and sprinted toward the punk attacking his wife.

A vise-like grip reached out and snagged Henry by the arm. He lost his forward momentum, pivoted on his heels and came face-to-face with the bearded man. In the fraction of a second, Henry observed the man’s large frame, crooked teeth, and bald head.

“Don’t fight now,” the bearded man said.

Henry didn’t listen and whipped the would-be spear against the side of the man’s head.

The man yelped. His hold on Henry’s arm slackened.

Claire continued to scream and kick at her attacker.

Henry charged the teen. The knife still hovered over Claire’s face. The teen held her pinned to the ground while a smaller, fatter kid tried to tie her clawing hands together.

“Watch out, Boy,” the man said behind Henry.

The teen turned his face toward Henry just as Henry planted his left foot and kicked up with his right, connecting with the teen’s chin and sending him backwards off Claire.

The knife fell from the teen’s hand, landing at Claire’s side.

Henry reached for it but the fat kid got to it first. He held it out in front of him and hissed at Henry. The blade sliced across Henry’s thigh.

Warm blood ran down the inside of Henry’s pant leg but pain failed to register. His reflexes twitched and he reacted instinctively, thrusting the spear down toward the child, stabbing him in the fatty meat of his shoulder.

The fat kid howled.

Henry sensed movement behind him. He turned around fast, ready to stab the bearded man but the tip of the sword pointed at Henry’s throat.

“Now stop,” the man said.

Henry’s grip on the spear remained tight. His vision was sharp. His breathing was quick. Adrenaline pumped through his body. He wanted to fight.

The sword pointing at him, though, persuaded him not to. The kids had moved slowly. This bearded man, however, had the look of a killer who could make quick decisions.

“You got her, Boy?” the man said.

Henry looked over his shoulder to see Boy tying Claire’s hands. A rag had been stuffed in her mouth. Claire’s eyes stared at Henry, begging for help.

“Yeah, Pa.”

“How are you doing, Hog?” Pa said.

Henry saw the fat kid sitting on the ground, holding his shoulder. A decent amount of blood ran down his arm.

“I’m okay, Pa.”

“I didn’t think you’d be the type to fight,” Pa said.

Henry turned back and looked at Pa. The adrenaline surge racing through him started to subside.

“Don’t hurt my wife,” Henry said.

Pa shook his head. “Then you better stay calm.”

Henry’s body surrendered. He let the kid they called Hog tie his hands while Boy stuffed a rag in his mouth.

After Hog finished the knot, he took his finger and pushed it into the cut on Henry’s thigh. Henry felt the pain this time.

“That’s enough,” Pa said. “We got a walk ahead of us. Get the squirrel, Hog.”

Hog grunted and retreated into the bushes. He returned a moment later with a freshly dead squirrel. He handed it to Boy.

“You know what to do,” Pa said.

Boy nodded and sliced the squirrel’s abdomen open. Then he moved to Claire. Hog lifted her right foot and Boy smeared the sole of her foot with squirrel blood and guts. He repeated the process with her left foot. Then he moved over and did the same to Henry. The blood was still warm. It smelled good.

When he finished, Boy tossed the carcass into the brush. Henry watched it fly, his stomach screaming for just a taste of the meat. Then it disappeared from sight.

“Let’s go,” Pa said.

The teen led the way, holding Claire at his side. Pa walked next to Henry and Hog followed behind as they headed deeper into the woods.

Chapter Ten:

Trekking

The Navy SH-60B skimmed low and slow over the pine treetops of Blackwater Forest. The side door open, Nate leaned his head out and scanned the woods passing in green blurs below.

Nate had called the base commander in Pensacola that morning and the helicopter was en route thirty minutes later. Lucky for him, the helo had been scheduled for search-and-rescue training so diverting it to the east to Edom County hadn’t been a problem.

The catch, though, was the helo was only available for two days. After that, it had to go on a training mission in Texas. Nate understood and refused to argue matters of money and budget. He knew he’d have better luck arguing with the moon. Instead, he was thankful and determined to find Henry and Claire in the next forty-eight hours. The SH-60B had forward looking infrared, or FLIR, installed on it and Nate figured they’d find them sooner than later.

So Nate took to the air and coordinated with two twenty-man search parties led by Driscole and Fred in the forest. If Henry and Claire weren’t found in the next two days, Nate wouldn’t just lose the helo. He would have to consider calling the whole search off.

*  *  *  *  *

The opportunity to fight had long vanished. Now Henry thought about ways to escape.

The hillbillies, or whatever they were, forced Henry and Claire to march through the woods toward some unknown destination. Henry figured the bearded man called Pa, the apparent father of these feral children, wanted to take them to his isolated cabin in the middle of nowhere to reenact a scene from Deliverance.

Henry tried to assure himself things would turn out okay. Then he watched Boy, watched the way the teen kept glancing at Claire’s hair and breasts, and knew these people didn’t want to sing around a camp fire and make them part of their inbred tribe.

“You don’t like the way Boy looks at your woman, do you?”

Henry refused to turn to Pa, walking at his side, firmly gripping his right arm in his huge hands.

“Well,” Pa said, “if you like the way she looks, you’ll stay cooperative. Understand?”

This time Henry did look and found Pa smiling at him. A big wide smile, like a jack-o-lantern with a beard.

“Understand?”

Henry nodded.

Pa turned his head forward. “Mind the walk, Boy.”

“I am, Pa.”

“You know what I’m talking about.”

Henry kept his eyes on Boy. The son did as his Pa had instructed. Not once did he steal another glance at Claire.

Boy fears Pa, Henry thought. Fears what happens if he disobeys daddy.

*  *  *  *  *

Boy expended a great deal of concentration trying not to look at the woman. His hand gripped her left arm. Strong but soft.

He made sure to walk close to her so that her side would rub against his with each step. The warmth of her skin, hot from trying to fend him off, created an ache in his balls.

Boy wanted to knock her down and take her right there. Wanted to press the blade of the knife against her throat while he split her hole with his dick. Wanted to taste her blood and feel the last bit of warmth pass from her body.

The thoughts caused his dick to harden. Boy wished he could look at her, to see if she stared at what she created. But he kept his eyes forward as Pa had ordered.

*  *  *  *  *

Claire glanced down and saw the teen’s erection. She could feel his eagerness riding his hand holding her arm.

They’re going to rape you, she thought. Jesus, they’re going to rape us and kill us.

Bile rose into her mouth but she couldn’t spit it past the gag. The acidity burned her tongue and she choked and swallowed it. Tears ran down her face and snot shot from her nose.

She cried when she heard Henry moan behind her. She tried to turn but Boy kept her walking straight.

Henry moaned again and then the father said, “She’s fine. Stop blubbering or I’ll cut your heads off and nail your bodies to a couple of trees.”

Claire tensed up but kept walking, fearful that if she cried anymore, Henry might try to do something and get himself killed. Get them both killed.

Kick the little bastard in the balls and run, she thought.

No, the father would kill Henry for sure and would catch you no problem.

Claire stopped battling with herself. Need to stay alert.

Can’t give up.

Not yet.

*  *  *  *  *