Dangerous world, p.13
Dangerous World, page 13
Then, as quietly as they could, they continued toward the lake.
When they reached it, Britt and the others were standing on the shore arguing.
“Why would he go this way!” Bert yelled, waving his arms. “Isn’t it a bit obvious? Leaving a scarf out there so we think he… he…” Bert sucked in a deep breath, trying to swallow down his stutter. “So, we think he w-w-walked out there by moonlight to get to the other side? The opposite way he’s been heading all this time.”
“You seriously think he came out here, laid a fake trail, cleared away the real one, then what? Went back to his bed to have a nice cozy nap? Why would he do that? Why not take us out in our sleep if that was his game?” Ryan was squaring up to Bert while the others stared at them.
Britt was watching them too, biting her lower lip and looking seriously pissed off. As Bear held his breath, she finally yelled, “STOP!”
Bert and Ryan instantly stopped speaking.
Turning to Bert, walking up to him and squaring her shoulders even though he was a good foot taller than her, Britt snarled, “Ryan’s right. This guy slaughtered our people. He’d have shot us in our sleep if he found us. He wouldn’t have bothered playing silly games.”
For a moment, Bear closed his eyes and clenched his jaw. That was really what she thought? She thought he was a cold-blooded killer? No. He’d kill to defend himself. He’d set a trap to give himself time to get away. He wouldn’t shoot people in their sleep.
“Plus,” Annie had stepped forward and was grinning at Britt as if she was looking for brownie points for agreeing with her, “if he’s heading in that direction, it’s going to save a lot of time to just go straight across the lake. The trees here aren’t too bad, but they’re pretty dense on the western side.”
“Western side.” Bert rolled his eyes. “Like you even know which direction west is—”
Cutting him off, Britt reached for the back of her jeans and took out her gun. With steel in her eyes, she raised it and pressed it to Bert’s chest.
“Britt? What the—” Bert’s eyes had widened.
Behind him, Annie, Suze, and the others were practically bouncing up and down with enjoyment at what was unfolding in front of them.
“Get rid of him,” Annie said, her eyes sparkling.
Looking over Bert’s shoulder, Britt smirked. But then she lowered her weapon and took a step back. “I have a better idea.” She gestured to the fallen tree. “Bert’s going to suss out the ice for us. Make sure it’s safe to cross.”
Stepping up to Britt’s elbow, Ryan, who seemed like he might—deep down—be a good guy who just got mixed up with the totally wrong crowd, said quietly, “Are you sure?”
“Yes.” She didn’t even hesitate. Looking at Bert, she nodded and waved her arm. “Go ahead, Bert. Lead the way.”
For a moment, Bert looked as if he was considering whether to make a run for it. But then he sighed, turned around, and headed for the log.
Bear held his breath. He’d wanted all of them to head out onto the lake, not just one.
With outstretched arms, Bert made his way along the fallen tree branch. Out toward the spot where Bear had tested the thickness of the ice.
“There are no footprints out here. Shouldn’t there be footprints on the ice?” he called back.
“Just get on with it!” yelled Annie.
Bert paused. Bear saw his shoulders rise toward his ears as he took a deep breath. Then he crouched down and swung himself onto the ice. As his foot met the frozen surface of the lake, everyone watched with bated breath. Very slowly, he lowered his other leg, then stood up straight. The ice was holding.
Bear gritted his teeth. This could still work. If the ice managed to hold Bert, it wouldn’t hold many more of them.
Bert kept going, inching out toward Bear’s abandoned scarf. When he reached it, he turned, looking more confident, and swung the scarf around his neck. Taking a bow, he yelled, “Happy?”
Britt wrinkled her nose, then looked at the others and nodded. “Okay, it’s safe. Go ahead.”
Having, a moment ago, been brimming with excitement, Annie’s face dropped a little. “You sure, Britt? I mean….” She lowered her voice. “I thought you were just kidding around with Bert. You really want us to go out there?”
“I want to find this guy. So, yeah. We’re going out there.” Britt stormed off toward the tree, then stood near the shore and beckoned for the others to go ahead of her.
Annie went first. Then two of the guys with no names. Then Suze. Finally, Ryan hopped up onto the branch and reached for Britt’s hand to help her on. A tall guy with a jagged scar on his cheek was last, checking over his shoulder and securing the group at the rear.
Bear looked at Trent and they exchanged a knowing glance. It was going to happen. Any minute now. With all eight of them on the ice, it wouldn’t hold.
Tentatively, Annie stepped onto the frozen lake and began to inch her way toward Bert. He was still standing holding the scarf. As Annie got closer to him, he shouted to Britt, “How do we know which way he went?”
“Just go in a straight line. That way. Like Annie said.” She flicked a pointed finger in the direction the scarf had been.
Bert opened his mouth to answer her, then closed it again.
Behind Annie, a tall guy with huge feet had paused. “Boss, this don’t feel right.” He looked up as he spoke.
Annie looked up too.
And then it happened. One second, they were standing there, the next they were gone. The ice opened up with a crack that even Bear could hear and they fell through it. Annie screamed. For a moment, she bobbed up and down, waving her arms and spluttering. Then she disappeared. Next to her, the guy with big feet was gone too. Another was grappling to hold onto the rim of the hole.
“Luke!” Britt lurched forward, but the guy with the scar stopped her.
Dropping to his belly, Bert slid along the ice shouting, “Grab my hand!”
Luke reached for him and Bert began to pull, heaving him out, then plunging his hands into the icy water while he yelled, “Annie! Annie!”
While Luke tried to help him, Bert looked up at Britt and the others. Britt, Ryan, and the guy with the scar were still on the log, but Suze was halfway between the log and the hole in the ice, looking terrified.
“Help me!” Bert was sloshing his arms around in the water, searching for his friends. “Help me find them!”
Bear screwed his eyes shut. He was about to whisper, “Okay, let’s go. Quickly,” when a familiar sound broke through the trees.
“Jess….” Trent’s eyes widened. He was right. It was Jess. She was barking.
“Go get her, make her be quiet!” Bear gave Trent a shove to make him move quickly, but it was too late. As Trent hurtled into the undergrowth to go and find Jess, Britt looked up and started running back along the log. The guy with the scar was in front of her, holding his gun.
“Was Bert right?” Ryan yelled, running after Britt. “Was this all a trick?”
“Just move!” Britt shouted, sprinting across the beach.
Bear waited a beat. He sucked his breath in, counted to five, then muttered, “Only one way out now,” and started shooting.
18
LAUREL
“How much farther?” Arlo stopped and dropped the box he’d been carrying to the ground.
Jim had a pack on his shoulders, a popup tent strapped to the top of it, and another bag on his front. He was holding a map, rotating it as if it would help him figure out where they were.
“Can I take a look?” Laurel held out her hand and gestured for him to give it to her. What had started as quickly returning a favor had turned into an overnight hike, and they still didn’t seem to be any closer to the camp.
Reluctantly, Jim handed her the map. “It’s there.” He jabbed his thumb at an open space surrounded by trees.
“Is that a lake?” Laurel asked.
Jim nodded but didn’t answer her; he was clearly struggling under the weight of his belongings. Giving in, he dropped the bag on his front to the ground and groaned as he was freed from it. Shrugging out of his backpack too, he stretched his back and groaned again.
Laurel looked up and down the road they were on for any landmarks that might orient them. A sign nearby told her they were on Blue Ridge Road, exit fifty-six. She walked over to an abandoned car and spread the map out on the hood, tracing the road with her index finger.
Beckoning Arlo over, she tapped their location. “We’re here.”
He nodded.
“The survival camp is here.”
“So, how much farther?”
“Not far. We might not make it before sunset, but if we do have to camp overnight, it’ll only be an hour or two’s walking in the morning.”
Arlo sighed through gritted teeth and rubbed his jaw. Behind them, Liam was showing Jim a page in his Boy Scout book. While Laurel remained suspicious and Arlo remained indifferent, Liam seemed to think Jim was hilarious.
“He needs to rest.” Arlo smoothed his palm over his face. “Sure wish we’d gotten that wagon out of the ditch.”
Laurel grimaced. “Sorry, Arlo.”
He shrugged. “Not your fault. You tried.” He readjusted the pack he was carrying and looked at the box by his feet, a box Jim had insisted on them bringing. “What’s even in here?” he muttered. Looking up at Laurel, he added, “You’ve got the food and the bedding. Jim’s got the ammo, the tent, and whatever else is in that pack on his front. So, what’s left?”
Laurel shook her head. She had no idea what could possibly be left to carry and felt horrible that Arlo was having to manage his own pack, Liam’s, and Jim’s heavy box.
Glancing over her shoulder, remembering the word KIBBLE scrawled on one of the boxes they’d left behind, she paused for a second, then purposefully stumbled sideways, kicked the box, and sent it flying.
“What the…?” Jim looked up as his box toppled sideways and spilled onto the road. As he ran over, Laurel and Arlo peered at the ground.
Laurel looked at Arlo. His face was turning red. Spinning around to face Jim, slowly, with gritted teeth, he said, “Books?”
Jim stopped a few feet away.
“All this time, you’ve been making me carry books?”
Jim’s eyes widened. He swallowed hard and raised his hands into the air. “Hey, man, don’t overreact.”
“Overreact?” Arlo strode forward. He was the same height as Jim but his shoulders were broader and his jaw harder. “My kid is struggling to walk. I could have helped him, but instead, I’ve been carrying your collection of….” He turned, kicked a book, and yelled, “Gone with the frigging Wind!”
Jim began to stutter. “Look. Arlo. You promised you’d help me. I helped your girlfriend over there. In return, you’re helping me.”
A growl vibrated in Arlo’s throat.
Laurel put her hand on his arm. Behind Jim, Liam was watching with wide, worried eyes.
Jim’s hand twitched at his waist. He was armed, but so was Arlo.
“Stop.” Laurel stepped between the two of them and raised her arms. “The pair of you, stop.” She could practically feel Arlo’s rage coming off him in waves and she fixed him with a stare she hoped he would interpret as it’s not worth it.
“Okay, okay.” Jim lifted his palms in the air. “Look, we can leave the books. If you want to, we can leave them. If I’d known you were struggling….”
Arlo looked past Jim to Liam, sucked in a deep breath, gave the books another kick, then stalked off to the side of the road to light a cigarette.
“Dad, you said you were quitting.” Liam trotted over and put his hand on his dad’s arm.
“I am,” Arlo replied darkly. “But not today.”
As Laurel returned to pick up the map, Jim walked over and stooped to the ground. Nudging the books with his hands, he sighed. Laurel tried to ignore him; she agreed with Arlo that bringing a load of heavy books as an essential item was ridiculous. But the look on Jim’s face made her pause and crouch down beside him.
“I’m sure there’s room for one or two if there’s a particular volume you’re attached to,” she said, eyeing some of the titles.
From among the strewn paperbacks, Jim pulled out what looked like an old hardback. Laurel tilted her head. Little Women. Without saying anything, Jim tucked it into the inside of his coat. He didn’t look at Laurel as he stood up, and he didn’t look back at the books as they started walking again.
A few hours later, having moved quicker now that Arlo was free of his heavy load, they reached an exit that took them away from the highway and down a smaller, tree-lined road. The sun was dipping in the sky.
Laurel stopped and pocketed the map. “I think here’s a good place to stop,” she said. “We’re not far from the camp. If we sleep here tonight, we can set off at sunrise and make it in a few hours.”
Arlo, who’d barely spoken since the book incident, grunted and stalked to the side of the road to ditch his things. Liam followed him, flopping down beneath a tree and leaning against its trunk.
Taking a deep breath in, he coughed a little but swallowed it down when Arlo looked at him. “You okay, son?”
Liam nodded. “Fine. Just need some water.”
Silently, Jim set about lighting a campfire while Laurel took off her pack and started to sift through their food supplies. “Beans and tuna, beans and rice, or tuna and rice?” she asked, wrinkling her nose.
“Tuna and rice,” Arlo and Liam replied in unison.
Laurel turned to Jim. He looked at her and shrugged. “Anything. As long as it’s hot.”
Taking out the can of tuna, Laurel nodded. “Hot tuna and rice coming up. As soon as the fire’s burning.”
“I’m on it,” Jim replied tightly.
Arlo didn’t seem to notice or care that Jim’s mood had darkened but – despite her misgivings about him — Laurel was keen to prevent team relations deteriorating any further. At least until they’d kept their promise and could part ways.
Leaving Jim stacking kindling, Laurel walked quietly over to Arlo and Liam. Crouching in front of Arlo, she laced her gloved fingers together and said, “Arlo, you should make up with Jim.”
He frowned at her.
Keeping her voice low, Laurel said, “His friend runs a survival camp. They might have things we could use, or we might need their help in the future. Best if we try to keep things civil at least.”
Arlo narrowed his eyes at her and nodded slowly. “Since when did you become so cynical, Doc?”
“Cynical?”
“I thought you were going to tell me to make friends because it’s nice to be friendly, not because we might need to use this guy for something.”
“That’s not what I said.” Laurel pushed her glasses up onto her head, balancing them on her hat.
A smile tickled Arlo’s lips. “My bad influence must be rubbing off on you, Doc.” He nudged Liam and chuckled. “You reckon, son?”
Liam smiled a little, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I like Jim,” he muttered. “No one got mad at me for bringing my book.” His Boy Scout manual was sitting in his lap.
“That’s because you brought one book. One useful book. Not a whole library of classics.”
“Fire’s lit.” Jim’s voice floated over, interrupting them. He sat back, cross-legged, and pulled off his gloves to warm his hands. When Laurel sat down next to him to start cooking, he simply took his copy of Little Women from his pocket and held it in his lap.
19
BEAR
Bear was panting hard. They’d barely stopped moving all day. When he’d opened fire on Britt and her gang, he’d expected them to back up, but they hadn’t. They’d come after him, blasting bullets back in his direction even though they couldn’t see him through the trees. He’d waited only a few moments before turning and running.
At the tree where he’d tied Jess, he’d found Trent stroking her, whispering and trying to calm her down. “Move!” he’d yelled, bending to untie Jess’s leash and shove her back into her pouch.
Behind them, he could hear shouts and gunfire.
“What happened?” Trent’s eyes had been wide and frightened.
“No time. Move.”
They’d flown back through the woods, back to their hiding spot, grabbed their packs and bolted from the trees.
Outside, they’d barely moved a few feet when it had started to snow again. Trent had suggested going back into the woods, but Bear had shaken his head. “No. The snow will help cover our tracks. We keep going.”
Now it was late, the sun was almost setting, and they were both exhausted. The snow hadn’t lasted long enough to cover their tracks. It had petered out and left them in the open, glancing desperately over their shoulders to see if they were being followed. Every now and then Trent tapped Bear’s arm, pointed to his ear and gave him a look that told him he could still hear Britt behind them.
“How many do you think made it?” Trent asked, struggling to keep up with Bear’s pace.
“Two went through the ice. One was trying to help them out. Britt and two other guys were still on the log. One of the others was on the ice but didn’t go in. So at least three, maybe five left.” Bear grimaced and shook his head. “And at least two of them are the most dangerous. Britt and the guy with the scar on his face looked like they were just waiting for an excuse to shoot.” Bear paused and took his water bottle from his pack, took a swig from it, then kept moving. “We need to lose them somehow. It’s too open out here.”
“Back into the woods?” Trent asked. “It’ll be dark soon. We need somewhere to stop and light a fire.”
“I don’t think we’ll be lighting a fire tonight, kid.” Bear put his arm around Trent’s shoulders. Last night had been hard on them both, sleeping with no fire to keep them warm. He didn’t want to do it again, but he would if he had to.
“Woods, then?” Trent gestured toward the woods that ran along the side of the road. Not as dense as the ones near the lake, but enough cover to at least delay their pursuers.
