William Krueger - Northwest Angle

But Stephen drew himself up and said, “Do you think he’s on the Path of Souls now?”

“I don’t know,” Rainy said. “But if so, he was prepared to make that journey.”

Waaboo began to fuss, and Jenny picked him up from the bedding in the ice chest. “He’s hungry,” she said. “I wish I had a bottle.”

They heard a rustling from outside and froze. All except Waaboo, who’d begun to flail his arms and legs and emit unhappy little squeals. A moment later, the sunlight that filled the cave opening was eclipsed.

“You in there?” Aaron asked.

“Come in,” Rainy said. “It’s a little tight, but we’ll fit.”

Aaron crawled in, dripping wet.

“There’s no way to get to that little landing except by canoe or swimming,” he explained. “The lake’s pretty chilly. I hope we don’t have to hide out here for long.”

Stephen shot his hand up, signaling them to be quiet. Again, they all held still, except Waaboo, who was becoming more vocal in his insistence on being fed. From outside the cave and somewhere above them came voices. Angry men.

“I don’t know, but the signal was coming from somewhere around here. Then it was gone,” one of the voices said.

“There’s nothing here, Josh. Unless they jumped off the cliff.”

Waaboo fussed, and the sound seemed huge in the small cave and in its consequences. Jenny offered him her little finger as a pacifier, and she was thankful when he took it.

Please, God, she prayed, let him be quiet.

“They’re here somewhere,” the first voice said. “We’ll find them.”

In the cave, they barely breathed.

“How did they follow us?” Stephen whispered.

A question to which no one had an answer.

Waaboo pulled away, maybe sensing all the tension, and let out a cry.

God, please, Jenny prayed and slipped the tip of her little finger back into his mouth.

Stephen leaned near the opening of the cave. “They’re still above us,” he whispered.

Aaron went to his hands and knees and crawled toward the opening. “I’m going out there.”

“No,” Jenny said.

“I’ll try to lead them away.”

“Aaron, don’t.”

“I’ll be okay. Never told you this, but I was a champion hurdler in high school.” He kissed the top of her head, then crept into the cave mouth and slipped outside.

A moment later, Jenny heard a splash in the water.

“There! See him?”

“Yeah, come on.”

For several minutes, everything was quiet. Waaboo had settled, and Jenny hoped desperately that Aaron was successful and safe.

Then the evening stillness outside was shattered by gunshots. Several of them. Rainy took Jenny’s hand. Stephen put his head into the cave mouth and listened. They held that way for several minutes more.

Stephen drew back suddenly, and Jenny understood immediately why. She heard the scrape of boots on the rock face outside and the rustle of blackberry brambles.

Let it be Aaron, she prayed.

“All right, you have a choice,” came a voice from the mouth of the cave. “You can come out, or we’ll just spray the inside of this place with bullets. You have ten seconds to decide.”

They exchanged looks, and Jenny saw in the eyes of the others exactly what she felt, too: sudden and complete despair at the inevitability of what lay ahead.

“Wait,” Rainy said, in a tired voice. “We’re coming.”

One by one, they crawled out, Stephen first, then Jenny with Waaboo, and finally Rainy. Two men stood outside, one on either side of the cave opening, each holding a powerful-looking rifle.

“All right, Josh is going to lead the way,” said the man to Jenny’s right. It was his voice she’d heard before. He was tall, with a sharp jaw, long nose, and eyes as blue as a cold winter sky. “You folks just follow him. And if you try anything, I’ll put a bullet through you as surely as I’m standing here.”

“Aaron?” Jenny asked.

“Your boyfriend?” said the man with the cold blue eyes. He shrugged. “Like shooting fish in a barrel.”

FIFTY-ONE

Just before sunset, the De Havilland approached Iron Lake. From above, the expanse of water appeared smooth and shiny in the late afternoon light, and the irregular shoreline gave it the look of a ragged piece of gold lamé torn from a dress. Cork saw the jut of Crow Point far ahead, and as they approached, Overturf put his hand to his headset, then lifted the radio mike and spoke into it.

“I read you, Deputy.”

He turned to Cork. “Says there’s a hostage situation in progress down there. He wants us to land on the northwest side of the point, well away from where the cabin sits. He’ll have somebody there to meet us.”

“A hostage situation?” Rose said at Cork’s back. “What does that mean?”

“I don’t know,” Cork replied. But it wasn’t good.

Overturf brought the Beaver down smoothly onto the lake. A uniformed officer waved from the shore, and the pilot motored the plane to where he stood. Cork climbed out, and the others followed.

Overturf slid back the cockpit window and called, “I’ll stay here with the plane, Deputy. You figure you need me in some way, just let me know.”

“Ten-four, sir, and thank you.” The deputy was George Azevedo, a man Cork knew well. They shook hands, and Azevedo said, “This way.”

“What’s the situation, George?”

Azevedo spoke as they walked. “A standoff at the moment. As nearly as we can tell, your daughter and son and the baby are inside the cabin. We think that Meloux and his niece are inside as well, but that’s unclear. How many of the bad guys are in there is also unclear. We’ve got the cabin surrounded, so no one’s going anywhere. The sheriff and Captain Larson are trying to figure how to handle this. They’ll be glad to see you, I expect.”

They walked through the woods that edged the clearing until they came to the path that connected Crow Point with the county road. There they found Sheriff Marsha Dross and Captain Ed Larson, two of Cork’s old friends. They’d been his subordinates when he was sheriff of Tamarack County years before. Dross was in her early forties, Cork’s height, with a strong-boned look to her body. Like Azevedo and all the other officers present, she wore a blue Kevlar vest with TCSD stenciled on the back. In the cool evening light, he could see how drawn her face looked. The sheriff got immediately down to business.

“We have them contained, Cork, but that’s about it at the moment. We’re trying to get some communication established. So far, I’ve had no response with my bullhorn. I’d love to get an open line into that cabin.”

“George told me you’re sure that Stephen and Jenny and the baby are inside. True?” Cork asked.

“Deputy Pender was first on the scene,” she explained. “He had instructions to wait before approaching the cabin and to observe and assess the situation until the rest of us arrived. He spotted several people coming along the eastern shoreline. He ID’d Stephen and Jenny. Hell, we all know them. A woman was part of the group—Rainy Bisonette, we believe, but haven’t confirmed. Two armed men escorted them. The group entered the cabin before we had a chance to intercept.

“We were able to get two of our people into those rocks.” She pointed through the trees toward the outcropping around Meloux’s fire ring. “My guys found a body there, a male shot through the right eye. Driver’s license says his name is Able Denning. We’re assuming he’s one of the Seven Trumpets people. There’s another body lying on the path through the meadow grass about fifty yards out from the tree line. Male and there’s an assault rifle next to the body, so we believe it’s also one of the Seven Trumpets group. After I gave them the first call with the bullhorn, one of them attempted to make it to the rocks where my guys are positioned. They let him come and tried to subdue him when he got there. He resisted and they took him out. According to his driver’s license, he’s one of the Hornetts. Gabriel. If what you told us is accurate and there were five people who came from Stump Island, then there are only two left. We’ve got them penned in, and they know it, but they won’t respond to my attempts to communicate.”