Scratch, page 27
The truck slid sideways and the back tire plunged into deep thick mud. They jolted to a halt. The tire spun in the slime, failing to move them.
“Goddamn it!” Jim yelled and pressed the gas pedal to the floor. Both tires began to spin, succeeding in burying them more deeply in the muck.
“That’s it, folks,” Jim said as he killed the engine. “End of the line. We’re on foot now. There’s an extra flashlight under the seat.” He grabbed his own light, threw open his door and clambered out into the knee-high weeds. Holly fished under the seat and found the light. She pushed the on switch then she and Adam filed out behind Jim.
“Where to?” Jim asked. Adam jerked his head toward the quarry and started to run in the dark. Holly followed, and after a moment, so did Jim, shielding his gun from the rain as much as possible.
They broke into the clearing around the quarry pond, feet sinking into the mud. They stopped and swung the flashlight beams across the whole area. They looked, but saw no one nearby.
“Over here,” Jim yelled. His light was trained on the ground at his feet. He knelt down and picked something up. Adam and Holly crowded near and saw that it was Ed’s shotgun. It was fouled with muck and the muzzle was filled with blue-black mud. Holly stepped back and stumbled over something under her foot. She looked down and barked out a short scream as she danced away from a mutilated arm.
“Shitshitshit!” she said.
“Oh man.” Jim knelt beside the arm and poked at it with the shotgun. He saw the pellet marks from the blast. The knife was still lodged between the bones. There was a tattoo that read “Stephanie” on the back of the hand.
“It’s Ed’s,” Jim said. “I bet that’s the knife Billy stabbed you with, too,” he added and pointed to the blade.
“Mom,” Holly said as she recognized the knife from a set in her mother’s kitchen. She clapped her hand over her mouth to stop the bile, but failed. She sprayed bits of her carefully prepared dinner onto the ground.
“Now what?” Jim said. Adam stood for a second and closed his eyes. He took a deep breath and tried to clear his mind of his anxiety. He wanted to help Holly, but there was nothing he could do for Carol right now. They would deal with that when Michaela was safe. He continued to breathe, attempting to calm himself, to access the instincts he needed to find his child.
When he opened his eyes the world looked different. The details were hazy and indistinct. He thought he could see faint trails of blue spirals on his arms, just like in his dream. Jim and Holly were outlined with a dim glow. On the ground he saw footprints. Not impressions in the mud, but the glowing outline of a pair of small feet. He didn’t know how he was seeing these things. Maybe Gabrielle had left some remnant of her power in him when he was healed. He followed the footsteps, slowly at first, but gaining speed as he gained confidence. Jim and Holly followed.
Adam stopped at the edge of the embankment, where he had imagined the giant frog leaping into the quarry pond, and reached down. When he rose he was holding a child’s shoe in his hand.
“She’s been here,” he said to Holly. Holly clutched the shoe to her chest and broke out in a fresh set of tears.
Adam looked up and saw the footprints leading away from the quarry and into the woods, following much the same trail he had taken the day he walked here. He started to follow, but something had stepped out of the woods. It stumbled and staggered toward them. Even before the twin flashlights picked it out of the gloom they saw that it was missing an arm.
“Ed?” Jim yelled, but thunder drowned his voice.
* * * * *
Sister? Scratch cried. Where are you? I hurt. The pain in Ed’s body had begun to compound his own. His eyesight was beginning to dim, and Scratch could feel the spark that was Ed’s life dimming with each passing minute.
I am near, Gabrielle said, and Scratch felt the wind and rain that bathed her. It was cool and soothing; like her voice, like her healing hands.
I must be healed, he said.
I am with our brethren, Gabrielle said. Below her she saw that, except for the circle around the church, Canaan was plunged into darkness.
We are singing down the storm. We are wreaking vengeance upon our captors. Her voice was exultant, righteous, as sure of her right to retribution as Raz had been of his right to keep her.
I must be healed, Scratch said again.
Bring the healer to you, Gabrielle said, the shaman who wears the mark of Bear. The final step is his. A human bound us. A human must free us. Whisper in his ear. Guide him to you.
I am too weak to control one like him.
Then bring his child to you. He will follow her, wherever her path may lead.
I will be reunited with you soon.
Scratch looked through Ed’s failing eyes and saw the trio of humans before him. Adam was the one he required. His power shone in Scratch’s eyes, and he wore a bear at his waist. Holly was inconsequential to his needs.
But Jim had been a part of Canaan, and while his violence and infidelities had fed Scratch well, he was still partly responsible for the chains. With the last burst of energy that Ed’s dying body was capable of Scratch launched himself at the big man.
* * * * *
“Ed!” Jim yelled again. The rain had gotten far worse after the last explosion of thunder and he could barely see Ed even though he held the flashlight beam steady on his neighbor’s chest. “Ed! You hurt, man? We can get you some help!”
Ed stopped his shambling motion and stood, head cocked as though listening to something only he could hear. Then he turned his eyes upon Jim and lurched toward him. His mouth opened and a low, mumbling sound reverberated up out of his throat. It started as a horrible wet sound, like words in a blender. It rose in pitch and volume until it was a scream of unending horror and pain, a sampling from the soundtrack of Hell.
“Jesus!” Jim shouted. There had been few times in his life that Big Jim Tucker had been truly afraid, but this was one of them. He took a step back and felt his heel at the edge of the quarry. He jerked his pistol up and fired, snapping off rounds as quickly as he could. Flame jumped from the barrel of the gun and the explosions were insignificant pops against the background of the storm.
The first bullet shattered Ed’s jaw, which had the immediate effect of muffling the banshee shriek that still came out of him. Three bullets slammed into his chest, and Scratch felt the tiny spark of Ed’s life blink out just as he vacated the still moving corpse.
Momentum carried Ed into Jim. They collided wetly, Jim’s pistol firing one last shot. Under normal circumstances Ed would never have been able to move the bigger man, but this was far from normal. Jim actually screamed, a sound that was almost as terrible as the sound that had come from Ed. He flinched as the body hit him and felt his feet slip over the edge. Jim’s arms flailed for a moment in an attempt to regain his balance, but his feet were already in the air. The pistol and the flashlight flew from his hands. Jim fell backward into the dark pit.
Adam and Holly heard the splash before they could reach the edge. Holly shined the flashlight down into the water. It was black and choppy with the rain and the passage of two bodies.
“Come on,” Holly said. “Surely he can swim, can’t he?”
Jim could swim, but not very well. His scream had taken most of the air from his lungs as he fell. The shock of the cold water and the impact of a forty-foot drop had dispersed the rest. His open mouth filled with foul, metallic tasting water. Ed’s body was entangled with his own. Jim struggled as they sank, but his lungs began to fill as they attempted to suck in air. Spots danced before his eyes. He kicked and felt his foot strike something hard, and then become caught. He thrashed, but his foot wouldn’t move.
Jim drowned, foot wedged in the side view mirror of the Holland Delivery, Moving, and Storage truck. Ed floated slowly away.
“Come on!” Holly pleaded. Lightning reflected off the black water.
“He didn’t make it,” Adam said. Part of him had felt the urge to leap in after Jim, to try to save him, but he knew that would only result in his own death. Michaela was more important.
“What’s going on tonight?” Holly looked up into Adam’s face. “What have we stumbled into?”
“Come on,” he said, not knowing how to answer her. He placed a hand on Holly’s shoulder. “He’s gone, and our daughter needs us. Billy is still out there.”
“He’s caused all of this, hasn’t he?” Holly said as she stood. Her hair carved wet wavy straggles down her face and she shook with anger and fear. “He killed that woman in the car. He… he killed Mom, didn’t he?” Her voice hitched with emotion, but she swallowed it and went on. “He maimed Ed… now Jim is dead as well. How did he get like this? What’s he doing with Michaela?”
“I think she got away from him,” Adam said. “I can see her footprints leading into the woods. I doubt she would be walking with him. She would be running away if she was on her own two feet.”
“You can see her footprints in this gloom?” Holly asked.
“Don’t ask me how, but yeah,” Adam said. “They’re fading, but I think I can find her. I just have to… I don’t know, listen closely to what my senses are telling me.”
“Those intuitions of yours.”
“I guess.”
“We have to be careful,” Holly said. “He’ll kill us now. There’s no coming back from where he’s gone.
“I don’t know about you,” she added, “but I’ll do whatever it takes to stop him.” Adam squeezed her hand.
“Let’s just find Michaela.” He led her away from the quarry and though the pale footprints were no longer visible Adam walked with confidence.
* * * * *
Michaela was lost. It was dark and trees surrounded her. Flashes of lightning and claps of thunder kept startling her. Wind shrieked through the trees, howling a concert played by a mad woodwind section. Branches cracked and broke and fell to the ground. Her hands were scraped because she kept tripping over things and falling. She was cold and wet and her other shoe had been eaten by mud. Her tummy ached and her eyes were swollen from crying.
She was very afraid.
About the only good thing she could think of was that she couldn’t see or hear the bad man any more. She hoped he had fallen down and lost his good shoes, too. If she could find a place to hide from him she would be safe until Mommy or Adam came to get her. It never crossed her mind that they wouldn’t. Michaela didn’t live in a world where little girls were lost forever, or taken away from their parents. She didn’t know that sometimes, bad things happened. Not every little princess was rescued from the Big Bad Wolf. She didn’t know that some children never left the Deep Dark Woods alive.
She came to the side of what had once been a small stream. It now raged like a miniature river, crashing and splashing over rocks and fallen branches. She wanted to cross it, but knew she would never make it. The water roared like an animal. She stepped back and tripped over a root that had been exposed by the pounding rain and sliding hillside. She plopped down on her backside with a jarring splash that made her tailbone throb. Fresh tears, carrying a blend of pain, frustration and fear, mixed with the rain on her cheeks. She slammed her fists into the ground.
“Mommy!” she yelled. Holly didn’t answer.
Scratch did.
Get up, Michaela, he whispered in her ear. His voice was soothing, beguiling, trustworthy. Michaela opened her eyes wide and made a little gasping sound in her throat.
“Is that you, Buggly?” she said, and for a moment she was the little girl in Adam’s stories, and her guardian bear was as real as everything else that had happened.
There’s shelter nearby, Scratch said. You’ll be safe there. Look up the bank behind you. There’s a cave. It will be dry and you’ll be safe there until your parents come.
Michaela stood up, rubbing her sore fanny as she did so. She looked up the bank, but in the dark and the rain she couldn’t see anything.
“Where?”
Straight up.
Michaela climbed the bank, her feet slipping on the watery soil. She came to a flat rocky space that bit at the soles of her feet. Directly in front of her was a spot of darker blackness, a small opening in the bedrock of the mountain. It was barely bigger than she was. Cool air wafted out of it, carrying the smell of dry earth and minerals.
“It’s dark in there,” she said.
It’s safe in there.
She steeled her nerves and made a decision. Whatever was in the cave couldn’t be worse than what she knew was out here. Besides, bears like Buggly lived in caves.
She knelt down on her hands and knees and crawled into the mountain.
* * * * *
Billy was lost. His broken finger ached. He was wet and cold and angry, because none of this was supposed to have happened. By now, he and Michaela should have been in a motel somewhere. They could watch TV. He wondered what her favorite cartoons were. Or maybe they could have stopped and bought her a book somewhere. She could have curled up on his lap and fallen asleep while he read. He would have carried her to bed and tucked her in, and by tomorrow they would have been well on their way to their new lives.
But no, instead he was wandering around the woods in a storm. He was tempted to just say, “fuck it!” and leave, just get in his car and go. First he had to find his way back to his car. But the keys were lost.
“Damn it!” he cried out loud.
The whole night had been like one of his paintings, back in the days when he actually painted. It would start out well. He would have a vision of amazing clarity; know exactly how the canvas should look when he was done. But somewhere along the line things would go awry. The paints would be the wrong shade, his brushstrokes weren’t quite right, and before he knew what had happened, the whole thing would get fucked up, and he would give up and trash the project.
Well, he thought, nothing had ever been quite as fucked up as they were right now. His vision of a future with Michaela was being washed away.
He leaned against the rough bark of a large tree to rest. He didn’t want to give up, but he had no idea how to proceed. Michaela could be anywhere. He started to walk again, but a movement in the woods stopped him. He ducked behind the tree and cautiously peeked around it.
It was impossible. Adam and Holly were walking together, holding hands. But Adam was surely dead by now, wasn’t he? At least too injured to move. Billy had felt the knife plunge deep into the man, but here he was. Adam paused, looked around, and then pointed between two creaking maple trees and the two of them went on.
They were looking for Michaela. Of course they were. All Billy had to do was follow them. He picked up a heavy branch and stepped out from behind the tree. It was a blunt and awkward object compared to the knife, but he knew that different brushes served different functions.
Maybe this painting wasn’t complete yet. He would let them find Michaela, then two quick strokes of red, and all would be well.
Adam and Holly slid down an embankment and came to a halt beside a roaring stream. Their feet sank into ankle-deep water and they felt the strong pull of the current.
“Oh God,” Holly said, “what if she fell in?”
“She didn’t,” Adam said. “She stood right here, though.”
“How can you tell?”
“She just did,” he responded. The glowing footprints had faded from view, but Adam had continued to move through the trees with certainty. Some internal guide, an intuition that bordered on magic, told him where Michaela would go. He knew her, knew how she thought and what she did when she was upset. Following her had taken the same kind of insight that had made him a success with his clients. He was able to put himself into their position and see, sometimes more clearly than they did themselves, just what their situation was.
He stumbled back and pulled his feet from the rising stream. He looked around him, up and down the stream. No, she didn’t go either way. She would have been afraid of the water. Back up the slope then, but where? He looked up and squinted through the darkness.
“There!” he said and pointed.
“What?” Holly asked.
“I think it’s a cave. Come on.” They climbed the slippery incline and came to rest on the small rocks in front of an opening in the mountain.
“You think she went in?” Holly asked.
“Yeah,” Adam said. “It’s dry in there. She’d think it was safe.”
“It’s small.”
“It’s like the boxes she’s been playing in,” Adam said. “She’ll crawl up in them and spend hours in there.” He knelt down and stuck his head into the cave.
“MICHAELA!” he shouted into the opening. There was a slight echo, but no response.
“Michaela! Honey, it’s Mommy!” Holly tried, but still there was nothing.
“Are you sure she’s here?” Holly asked. The stress and fear of the evening were taking their toll. She sounded doubtful and slightly hysterical.
Adam reached into the cave and felt around. The dirt inside the cave was packed tight and relatively dry compared to the ground outside. When his hand brushed over damp cloth he clutched it and brought it out. Holly shone the flashlight on a tiny pink sock with Pooh Bear appliquéd to it.
“Oh my God, you’re right.
“MICHAELA! MIKE!” she shouted into the cave once more. There was still no answer.
“Who knows how far back this thing goes,” Adam said. “She might not hear us. She may have even fallen asleep if she thought she was safe.
“I’m going in,” he said. “Give me the light.” Though she was smaller than Adam, Holly didn’t even think about going in herself. She simply handed the flashlight to him and kissed him on the cheek.
“Bring her back to us,” she said. Adam nodded and took the light. He tugged at the shoestring on his belt and made sure that Buggly was secure. Mike would be almost as happy to see the bear as her parents.
“Be careful,” he said. “Billy is still out here somewhere.” She nodded. He illuminated the tunnel before him, dropped to his stomach, and crawled forward.
