William Krueger - Copper River

Ren focused and tried to touch the skin of the night, to hear the night breathing, to catch its scent. He opened his mouth and let the taste of the night lie on his tongue. What he sensed was that he was not alone. As if to prove the truth of his conclusion, his ears picked up the delicate crumble of desiccated leaves as something again moved toward him on the trail.

He spun, hit the switch on the flashlight, and sprinted upriver. Ahead of him, the beam bounced wildly. Several times he stumbled and almost fell headlong. His footfalls and the noise of his own heavy breathing deafened him to sound at his back, and he ran with the certainty that any moment the cougar would pounce and its razor teeth would slice into his neck. He thought that if he could only make it to the old mine, he could use his club to keep the cougar at bay. Maybe Charlie’s presence there would help discourage an attack.

He reached the place along the river below the mine and began to scramble up the steep slope. He was feeding on adrenaline, moving like a mountain goat, using the stick in his right hand to propel himself upward. He reached the wild blackberry thicket that masked the entrance. Falling to his belly, he wormed his way into the small passage that he and Charlie had fashioned through the bramble. On the other side, he swung the flashlight beam into the mine.

In the light lay a circle of ash and char from a fire, a mound of leaves that had probably served as a bed, several candy bar wrappers, and an empty pint container of Nestle’s chocolate milk. Charlie was nowhere to be seen.

But Ren was not alone. At his back, he heard the rattle of loose stones on the slope. He turned, set the flashlight down with the beam aimed at the opening to the passage. He gripped the club hard with both hands. The blackberry thicket shivered. Ren drew the club back like a batter preparing to receive a fastball. He kept his eyes on the end of the narrow passage, a ragged arch in the thicket. He held his breath and waited.

What emerged was a monster, a creature with huge eyes.

Then Ren realized that the eyes were goggles and the monster was Dina Willner. She put up a hand to block the beam.

“You’re blinding me, Ren. Turn the light off for a minute.”

He switched off the flashlight. In the dark he heard her silky rustlings.

“Okay,” she said. “Give us some light again.”

In the illumination, he saw that she’d removed her goggles. She wore camouflage fatigues.

“Where’s Charlie?” she asked, peering into the mine.

“I don’t know,” he replied. “I thought for sure she’d be here.”

“This is where she hid before, isn’t it?”

She reached into the pocket of her fatigue pants and pulled out a small cyclinder, a mini Maglite. She used it to scan the tunnel back of the entrance.

“Looks completely blocked,” she said.

“It is. How did you follow me?”

She dangled the goggles. “Night vision. I’m worried about Charlie, too. I was pretty sure you knew where she was and would go to her. I put these under the sofa and after you left I followed.”

“I should have known you weren’t really asleep,” Ren said. “But I’m glad you’re here.”

“I almost wasn’t. I took a bad spill on the trail back there and you almost got away from me.”

“I thought you were the cougar.”

“That wasn’t smart, leaving at night without protection, Ren, but I understand. I brought this.” She reached to her belt under her jacket and drew out a big handgun. Again she swung her Maglite toward the jumble of rock and rotted beam a dozen feet in from the mine entrance that barred further entry. “So if she’s not here, where would she be?”

“I don’t know,” he said honestly.

She knelt and picked up a bit of the ash and char and rubbed it between her fingers. “This is old.”

Ren said, “This was the safest place. She should have come here. Unless…” He stopped short of speaking his fear.

“Unless someone intercepted her,” Dina finished for him. She stood up and put a comforting arm around his shoulders. “You know the Odyssey? The story of Odysseus?”

“Yeah,” Ren said. He’d read a Classics Illustrated version. He thought the part about the Cyclops especially was way cool.

“Odysseus survived everything the gods threw at him because of his cunning. He was a very smart guy. That’s Charlie, Ren. She’s very cunning. So I think there’s another explanation for why she’s not here.”

“Really?”

“Absolutely. And when we see her, she’ll tell us what it is. Come on. We should both get back.”

Dina led the way along the Copper River Trail. Behind her, Ren watched with admiration how gracefully she moved. In that, she reminded him a lot of Charlie.

W hen the cabin door opened, Cork woke up and rolled over in his bunk. Dina walked in carrying a tray covered with a white cloth napkin.

“Breakfast in bed?” Cork said, easing himself upright.

Dina put the tray on the table and pulled away the napkin, revealing a plate of two eggs over easy, four strips of bacon, two slices of very dark toast, a small glass of orange juice, and a cup of black coffee. “Eat hearty,” she said. “We’ve got work to do.”

He swung his legs out of the bunk and put his feet on the cold floorboards. He’d slept in a gray T-shirt and gray gym shorts, courtesy of Jewell. Like all the clothing she’d loaned him, they’d once been worn by her husband, Daniel. The night before, she’d also supplied him with a pair of clean jeans, a flannel shirt, boxers, and thick socks, all taken folded from the boxes of clothing stacked in the closet. Cork put on the socks and stood up slowly.

Dina pulled out a chair for herself at the table. “How’s the leg this morning?”

“It would be better without holes in it, but I can manage.” He limped over and appreciatively eyed the contents of the tray. “Looks like a condemned man’s last meal.” He sat down, flapped the napkin onto his lap, and took a sip of the juice. “What are we up to today?”

“Trespassing,” Dina said.

While he ate, Dina explained about the night’s events.

“I’ve been thinking,” she said. “Charlie’s a smart kid. Very savvy. I don’t really think she was intercepted on her way to the mine, but I’d like to make certain. If there’s the slightest chance this Stokely got his hands on her…” She didn’t complete that thought.

Cork sipped his coffee. “What did you have in mind?”

“We’re going to the Copper River Club the same way you and Ren did. We’re going to check out Stokely’s cabin.”

“You and me?”

“That’s the plan.”

“What about Jewell and Ren?”

“She didn’t want him missing any more school, and she needed to go to work.”

“They’re both gone?”

“Yes.”

“What time is it?”

“Seven-thirty. Jewell said we could use the ATV.”

“Does she know what you’re planning?”

“Not exactly. I thought it best to keep this between you and me.”

“How do we find the cabin?” he asked.

“I talked to Ren about that. He said to follow the river from where you two encountered Calvin Stokely yesterday. It’s a couple of miles farther on, up a small rise overlooking the river.”

Cork picked up the last strip of bacon. “Stokely’ll hear us coming.”

“He’ll hear you coming,” she said.

“I’m the diversion while you slip into the cabin?”

“You catch on quick. One of the things I like about you.”

In half an hour, he was dressed and ready to go. He slipped the Beretta Tomcat into an ankle holster Dina supplied him. Dina took her Glock and a knapsack she said belonged to Ren. The night before, Jewell had put stitches in Cork’s opened wound. He wasn’t worried about bleeding, but he’d been over the terrain they were about to travel and knew the cost to him in pain. He considered taking a Vicodin but finally decided against it. He needed to be sharp.