Just a Memory (38 page)

"Now then, dear, whatever happened? Did you have car trouble?"

"
Alice
, call the sheriff. Mac's been shot. He needs an ambulance. Please. And Terri. I have to let her know I'm okay. She must be very frightened by now."

"What's this?" Arthur asked.

"Call the sheriff.
Please,
" Carolyn begged. "You've got to get help for my friend."

Arthur reached for the phone and Carolyn saw the frown on his face. "Line's dead." He held out the phone for them to hear the silence.

"But the power lines…?" Carolyn asked.

"Our electricity is out, too. The generator keeps the yard light on when the power fails," Arthur explained.

"The power goes off with every snowstorm like this because of the weight of the snow. We knew it would. That's why I had the thermos of tea all ready."
Alice
beamed proudly.

"What am I going to do? Mac's been shot and he needs a doctor. We've got to call the police and get him help."

"Oh, dear. Only one thing to do then, Arthur,"
Alice
told him confidently. "You go get dressed and bring the tractor to the house. I'll help Carolyn change out of these wet things and then I'll quick get dressed. We can get to the tree farm and then we're in business. Mabel told me just a few weeks ago they got a cell phone. That'll work even with the lines down in the storm."

After Arthur helped Carolyn up into a chair,
Alice
helped her change. She went to the coat rack and pulled down one of Arthur's jackets. "This sure isn't as pretty as your coat, but it's dry and you should be warm in no time."

When Carolyn was bundled up,
Alice
said, "Will you be all right here while I get dressed?" Carolyn assured her she would. She crossed her arms on the table and laid her head on them.

Arthur passed through the kitchen on his way to the barn. "I won't be but a few minutes," he said as he bundled up in another jacket, hat, and boots.

Sitting indoors in the jacket and with her clothes exchanged for dry overalls and a flannel shirt, Carolyn began to warm up. She wished she hadn't when her face, ears, hands, and feet began to hurt. They throbbed with pain. She touched her face with her fingers and the pain brought tears to her eyes no matter how hard she fought them.

Arthur returned to the door just as
Alice
appeared dressed and ready to go out. "Here. I just knitted these to give to the church for the Mitten Tree this Christmas. Right now I think you need them just as much."

Alice
helped her put on the mittens, but Carolyn had to grit her teeth to keep from crying with the pain in her fingers. The courageous old couple bundled Carolyn up in a blanket and despite her being taller, they practically carried her to their huge closed-cab tractor. Carolyn was sure they were in their eighties, but they didn't let a little thing like that stop them.

"Don't you worry now, Carolyn. The tractor can get through the snow and keep us dry and fairly warm too. We'll be there in no time."

Huddled in the broad driver's seat surrounded by clear plastic windshields on all sides, they studied the ground in the headlights to pick out the unplowed roadbed now buried deep in snow. At the road, Arthur assured Carolyn that he saw no lights in either direction. "No tire tracks either. No car could get through this," he added.

They turned away from the cabin and drove at a nerve-wracking slow pace, but made it to Cooper's Tree Farm back toward town. From the time they reached the cellular phone, the events of the night were hazy for Carolyn. Al Cooper immediately called the sheriff's office. A county plow came out that far, allowing the police cars to travel behind it.

Hines got there first in Mac's four-wheel-drive vehicle. He was with men Carolyn had never seen before. Once Hines was at her side, she reached out, but couldn't touch anything with her painful hands. She wept at seeing him. He knelt beside the couch she lay on and gently wiped tears from her cheeks. "It's okay, Carolyn. You're safe now."

"No, not me. Mac. He needs a doctor. He's been shot. He's in the motel north down this road. The one with the row of little cabins."

"I know the one," one of the other men said.

Hines started to rise to leave with the others.

"Wait," Carolyn called as loudly as she could manage. "Mac said to tell you Brown Eyes killed his partner and shot him. Brown Eyes."

Mac had been right. The name did mean something to Hines. "You're sure he said Brown Eyes?" Hines asked urgently.

"I'm positive. Go to him before Harry wakes up, Hines. Quickly, before it's too late."

While the story of Harry kidnapping her and what happened in the cabin spilled out to the other men present, Hines stopped only long enough to reassure her Mac would be all right and then he left with two others.

Carolyn wanted so much to believe him. She felt so tired. So sleepy. So cold. Her face and fingers felt like they were on fire. Everyone was moving around, and she just wanted to go home to Terri and sleep.

Red lights flashed through the Cooper's kitchen window. "The ambulance is here," a woman's voice announced.

"Tell him to radio for another one," a deep male voice called.

Someone lifted Carolyn from the couch onto a stretcher and urged her to lie down. That felt better than trying to sit up, but the blanket they put over her was too tight. It hurt her toes. "No, not me. Mac. Mac needs an ambulance, not me. Help Mac."

Would they get to him in time? Her last thought was of Mac as blessed unconsciousness took away the cold and pain.

With no closed door at the cabin to stop the blowing cold, it quickly permeated the room to the far bed where the cold actually helped bring Mac to a hazy consciousness. He struggled to look around the room and saw Harry was gone, but Mac didn't know how much time had passed since he'd left. Harry could get stuck in the snow and return on foot at any moment.

Mac didn't want to think about the fact that Harry could find Carolyn out there and bring her back. If he let her live long enough to do that. Harry had no reason now to keep Carolyn alive until Morris got here. Finding strength in thinking about the real danger to Carolyn, Mac freed his hand from the handcuff on the headboard.

He commanded his weak body to get up. His shirt was sticking to the new wet blood sliding down his chest since Harry had shaken him. His feet hitting the floor helped galvanize him into action, despite the intense pain when he moved.

He rose and held onto the foot of the bed a minute until the dizziness passed. The cold chilled him to the bone. He was shivering despite his fever. He knew his time and strength were running out.

The sweater Mac found in Harry's suitcase would have to do for a coat. He pulled it over his limp injured arm and then around his neck. He finally managed to get in the other armhole and yanked it closed. With only one hand, he was able to close only one of the buttons.

He rested a few seconds and listened intently. No car yet. He went to the other bed and pulled off the faded wool blankets and wrapped them around himself the best he could with one hand and his mouth to hold the opposite ends.

Without further attempt at protection against the cold, he moved to the door. Leaning against the doorframe, he looked out as far as the room light allowed him sight. He clutched the blankets in his good hand while his other arm hung uselessly at his side. He panted already from the exertion and he hadn't begun to walk through the deep snow.

With a fortifying breath, he bent his head down and started out down the driveway. Mac worked at staying in Harry's footprints and then in the car's tire tracks to avoid trudging through the deep snow until he had to.

He had to get away from the cabin if there was to be any chance he would escape. He thought of Carolyn trying to get through the white stuff. She must have gotten so wet and cold, but he needed to believe she'd made it to safety by now. If Mac could avoid Harry, there was a chance Hines would come and find him–if he lived that long. At best, Carolyn would tell Hines where to find him.

Mac made it to the road. He leaned against the end fence post by the ditch. Each breath hurt. The whole injured side of his chest felt like it was filled with hot coals.

The wind swirled and lifted the snow around him, soaking and tugging at the blankets he struggled to keep around him. He chose to go in the same direction as the tire tracks, and pushed off. He tried to walk in the track rather than in the deep snow, but he staggered in zigzag steps and left the track as much as he was in it. Mac didn't know what lay in either direction, but going the way Harry went probably meant going toward Carolyn. If he did nothing else, Mac had to make sure she was safe. He just hoped Harry didn't find him first.

If only he could make it to a farmhouse. There had to be farmhouses in the country near here, didn't there? He could see no lights. He tried to remember if he'd driven down this road with Carolyn on their drives. Everything looked dark and shadowy at night despite the snow. He couldn't recognize anything.

Already his feet hurt so much he could hardly step on them. It was impossible to bend his ankles without pain. He walked with a stiff gait, dragging the blankets he clutched to his chest.

Funny though, somehow his shoulder didn't hurt so much anymore. Must be the numbing cold. His head ached less, too. In fact, except for his feet he felt much better. He was just so tired. He needed to rest, but he couldn't stop now.

Mac concentrated on taking one step and then another. He knew he hadn't gone far, but at least he hadn't stopped. He wanted to turn and see how far he actually had come, but couldn't afford to waste the effort it would take to twist around. He had to go on.

Caro. I'm coming.
He concentrated on the image of her face.
I'm so sorry you had to get mixed up in my rotten life, Caro. You deserve so much more. I've got to be sure you're safe.

Thinking about how far he had to go took too much energy.
Just take another step, Mac
. One more step. Then another.

The blankets were sliding down because his hand was too cold to hold them anymore. He gripped the top in his teeth, but he couldn't get a breath through his nose. When the need for oxygen was too great to continue biting the blanket, he opened his mouth to inhale deeply and cried out at the pain in his chest. It brought him to a stop.

When his freezing fingers would no longer bend to grasp the edges, he tried holding the blankets with his arm pressed against his chest. One side of the top blanket fell loose. The wind whipped it around his body like a sail. Soon the weight of the snow pulled it off his other shoulder and it fell to the ground behind him.

That's okay, he decided. He didn't seem to need that blanket anyway. The air didn't feel as cold as before. One blanket and the sweater would be enough. Even his feet didn't hurt so much anymore. They must be getting used to the cold. Mac felt encouraged at feeling less pain, but worried that his general weakness would stop his flight.

Gotta keep going. Gotta be sure Caro is safe.
He repeated the phrases to himself over and over.

Mac's head was so bowed over his stumbling body that he couldn't see the headlights making their way up the road toward him. The vehicle came around the curve and headed straight for him. When the light reached him, Mac looked up and stopped. He knew it was too late for him to hide. Barely able to stand buffeted by the wind, he used all his waning strength just to keep from falling.

He stared at the twin lights as they neared. Reflecting on the snow, they blinded him. He'd been stopped in his tracks like a deer on the highway.