Sara Reinke - Backwoods

Andrew had shrugged, the crutches digging ruthlessly into the meat of his armpits. “I still do,” he’d said, and that was it. The big reconciliation with his dad. It wasn’t like they’d gone back to the way things were before, or like that night in North Pole had never happened, but it had been a fresh start, in any case. For both of them.

On the phone to Alice, he said, “How about you? Still having bad dreams?”

Though he heard only silence on the other end of the line, in his mind, he could see her retreating into herself, her bright expression faltering, her smile growing slack. She’ll shrug her shoulders once, he thought, and drop her eyes down to the floor. And I’ll have to coax her back now, find a way to draw her out.

“Never mind,” he said. “Tell me more about this horse of yours. What’d you say her name was, Sunset? Sunrise?”

Another silent moment, then Alice said, “Sunshine.” And with that, she returned to him, emerging from the shadows into which even passing mention of Kentucky had forced her to retreat. “She’s a quarter horse, chestnut colored with dark brown mane and tale. She has a white star on her forehead. She likes it if I scratch her there.”

“She sounds terrific,” he told her with a smile.

Were Dead Fowl Mutilated or Killed By Hunters? read another news headline, linking to an online article about a string of Canadian geese carcasses found in the wooded region outlying Horse Shoe Run, West Virginia in the expansive Monongahela National Forest.

And another from three days earlier: Body of Missing Hiker Found, describing the gruesome discovery of a woman’s eviscerated corpse following an exhaustive search in the Dans Mountain Wildlife Management Area outside of Lonaconing, Maryland.

Andrew had pulled out his iPhone and carefully plotted each of these points into his mapping application. Just out of curiosity, he’d told himself, watching with a growing sense of dread as the points had seemed to indicate a very clear, if not direct line running north from the eastern edge of Kentucky toward New England.

From right about where Moore’s DARPA facility was to here, as a matter of fact, he’d thought. It’s like someone or something is working its way from Kentucky to Pennsylvania.

He doubted either Suzette or Moore had anticipated the voracity of the virus they’d custom designed, or just how accelerated the new tissue growth would become once it had overwhelmed its host. Who knew what Prendick was capable of anymore? Given the regenerative properties the virus had imbued him with had seemingly no limitations, Andrew was willing to bet that Prendick could have not only overpowered any additional troops deployed to the compound, but escaped them as well, retreating into the woods like the screamers of Alpha squadron before him.

Where he could survive quite nicely for a long, long time, Andrew thought. Survive and hunt. And wait. And grow.

“Next week is Family Weekend,” Alice told him. “They’re having a picnic on Saturday, with hot dogs and hamburgers. My teacher said we’re going to do silly sports, like run a race with your leg tied to your mom or dad’s, or while you’re carrying an egg in a soup spoon.” Her voice grew small, fragile. “Will you come?”

He smiled. “Of course I will.”

“Maybe you could bring Dani with you?” She phrased this as a question, left it hanging hopefully in the air.

His smile faltered. “I don’t think so.”

He hadn’t seen Dani since Pikeville, hadn’t talked to her, hadn’t as much as exchanged an email or text message. He’d gone as far as trying to look up her home phone number online, finding a listing for Antonio Fernando Santiago Santoro , with a spouse listed as Daniela E. He’d wondered what the E stood for, and felt a lingering melancholy to realize he’d probably never see or speak to her again to find out. He’d dialed the number a thousand times, but hung up before it would connect. The one time he’d let it ring through, a man had answered, presumably Tonio. Andrew had promptly hung up, abashed.

She’s married, he kept telling himself. Let her go. Move on with your life, for God’s sake. She’s married.

“But I’ll be there,” Andrew promised Alice. “Trust me, after all the practice I’ve had lately hopping around on one foot, we’re a shoo-in for first place in the three-legged race.”

After hanging up the phone, he leaned his head back and closed his eyes. Like Alice, since leaving Kentucky, he, too, had suffered some moments of definitive night terror, with visions of Prendick’s outstretched tentacles, the sick, squelching sounds as they’d moved so fresh in his mind, he’d swear he could still hear them, see them, smell them in the apartment. He’d been spending more nights on the couch than in his bed since his homecoming from the hospital. He couldn’t explain why, but thought maybe being closer to the front door—an avenue of escape—made him feel better.

He looked down at the iPhone in his hand, studying that grim little line of missing or mutilated bodies on the screen. The longer he studied it, the more troubled he felt. West Virginia. Maryland. Next up, Pennsylvania, he thought with an uneasy shiver and a glance at the nearest window, the imposing darkness that lay beyond. It’s like something following a trail. Hunting, almost. Working its way north. Working its way toward me.

At the sound of a soft tapping sound from the front door to the apartment, he jerked in surprise, then had to laugh at himself. “Jesus,” he muttered, because he had himself jumping at shadows.

Like Prendick’s going to slash his way through the forests to track me down, then bother to be polite and knock.

With a groan, he lugged his ski boot down off the coffee table and hobbled to his feet. Truth be told, he felt ungangly in the walking cast, no matter how much therapy he had to adjust to it. He felt like Frankenstein’s monster as he lurched along. Pausing at the threshold, he leaned forward and peered through the security peep hole.

“Dani?” he gasped, opening the door, not convinced he wasn’t seeing things. But there she was, standing at his door even though New York City was a good three hundred miles away from Johnstown, a four-hour drive at least. Dressed in a simple cream-colored sweater with a tan leather jacket shrugged atop and her lips unfurling in a hesitant smile, she was every bit as beautiful as he remembered.

“I’m getting a divorce,” she said.

That was it. No greeting, no ‘hey, partner,’ or ‘how’s it going’ or ‘nice to see you again, Andrew. ’ He blinked at her stupidly. “What?”

Dani took a deep breath as if mustering resolve, then said, “The night we met, the night you crashed, I’d driven out to Powell’s Creek. That was the only town with a post office near the base. I’d written Tonio a letter, told him I want a divorce. I’d sealed it in an envelope with my wedding ring inside. I was on my way back when we almost hit each other.”

Andrew stared at her, wordless. Her eyes had glossed over with tears and she swatted at them as they fell, smearing them against her cheeks, even as she laughed. “I keep thinking about what you said. How everything happens for a reason, and how I was yours. I think you’re mine, too, Andrew. My reason.”

Without another word, she stood on her tiptoes, clasped his face between her hands and kissed him fiercely. He drew her against him, deepening the kiss, feeling her relax against him, her mouth opening in warm invitation. Her breasts pressed into his chest, her fingers splayed through his hair and for a long moment, they stood that way, tangled together in the corridor outside of his apartment.