Chapter Thirty-eight
Karen slipped on the loose earth of the footpath, landed on her rump, and skidded. She dug in the heels of her boots to stop herself. The tingling pain of her scraped buttocks brought tears to her eyes. She wiped them away. Nick and Benny took her by the arms and helped her up.
She followed them to the bottom of the path, with Julie staying behind her. They walked along the lakeshore toward the stand of pine where they'd camped that Monday night, but were still a good distance away when Benny sat on the ground.
Karen stopped beside him. She dropped her pack, and kneeled in front of it. A breeze chilled the back of her sweaty blouse as she unstrapped a side pocket and took out Scott's.45 automatic. She jacked a cartridge into the chamber, switched the safety on, and sat down. She leaned back against her pack, and rested the heavy pistol on the lap of her jeans.
Benny was lying on his back with his knees in the air. Julie was settled against her pack. They were sweaty, gasping for breath. Nick, crouching over his open pack, took out a hatchet. Scott's hatchet. The sheriff still had Nick's. He sat down, and took off its leather sheath.
Karen shut her eyes. Her heart was racing and she felt nauseated. Sweat streamed down her face. She wiped it with her bare forearm, and let the shaking arm fall to her lap. Her wristbone hit the pistol, and she whimpered.
"Let's get moving," Nick said. His sudden voice made Karen flinch.
"I can't," Julie said. "Let's wait."
"A little while."
Karen heard movement. Through half-open eyelids, she watched Julie crawl over to Nick and hold him. He stroked her hair. For a moment, he looked as if he might cry.
He'd done some crying in the station wagon today — no, yesterday. It was all so confused in Karen's mind, as if she'd been in a daze ever since pulling Scott's unconscious body from the wreck. That was two nights ago. Last night was Juniper Lake and horrible dreams that kept waking her until Benny crawled into her sleeping bag and they embraced and finally fell asleep in each other's arms.
When she woke up in the morning, Benny was snug against her and snoring. Julie's sleeping bag was empty. She was with Nick. She crawled out naked in the frigid morning air, and Karen saw a smear of dried blood on one thigh. As she knelt beside her sleeping bag, she saw Karen watching. The girl glared as if daring Karen to chastise her. "Go back to him," Karen said. "Stay with him." The hard look fell away from Julie's face. Her chin trembled. She nodded, and returned to Nick's sleeping bag.
Later, no one spoke of the incident. But Karen caught Julie staring at her, from time to time, with a curious look on her face.
"How you doing, Benny?" Nick asked.
"I think I'm gonna die," he said.
Karen winced. Did he have to mention death?
"We're all gonna die," Nick said. "But not tonight. It's someone else's turn tonight."
"Damn right," Julie said.
"Karen?"
She nodded, and lifted the pistol off her lap.
"Okay," he said. "Let's haul ass."
Haul ass. He sounded just like Flash. Karen's throat tightened, and tears came to her eyes. God, she'd hardly known the man. But he'd seemed like a good fellow. He
was Scott's friend and Nick's father, and she supposed the tears were for them and for Alice, for Rose and Heather.
She pushed herself up. Her legs trembled under her weight, and her blistered feet burned. As the others stood up, she untucked her blouse. She lifted it, sucked in her belly, and pushed the pistol barrel down the waistband of her jeans. It was hard and cool against her skin.
"We'll circle this lake," Nick said. "Then we'll circle Upper Mesquite."
"Flashlights," Karen said.
"Yeah. It'll be dark in a few mintues."
"And cold," Benny added.
They searched through their packs. Benny put on his parka. Karen was shivering, and her own parka seemed too bulky. She left it in her pack, but took out her gray sweatshirt. Turning away from the others, she took off her cold, damp blouse. She wadded it. She used it to wipe the sweat off her face, the back of her neck, her sides. Then she tossed it into the pack, and put the sweatshirt on. It felt soft and warm. It made her think of Scott, the night he'd worn it back to his tent.
If only he were here.
Benny was gaping at her when she turned around. He looked down quickly at his flashlight, switched it on, and shined it on his face to see that it worked.
Karen took out her own flashlight and tested it.
Nick pointed with his hatchet to the left. "We'll go that way, head around the back side of the lake till we get to the ridge."
They started to walk, Nick in the lead with Julie close behind him. Karen let Benny go ahead of her. She didn't want him bringing up the rear; it seemed too vulnerable a position for the boy.
They followed the shoreline back the way they'd come. Where it curved at the northern end, they made their way up the broken granite blocks of the slope until they were thirty or forty feet above the water. Every step was an agony for Karen — for the others as well, she supposed. But nobody protested.
Probably, they could have just waited at the campsite. But they'd discussed it many times on the way in, and agreed to this. Everyone felt it would be better than waiting for the woman to make a first move. Also, there was a chance they might discover her hiding place, come upon her unawares. It was a slim chance, since the deputies hadn't been able to find her, but worth a try anyway. They agreed she must have a hiding place somewhere on the slopes above the lakes. They had enough food for four days. If they didn't find her tonight, if she stayed away from them, they would keep searching until the food ran out.
No one thought it would come to that.
If she was still at the lake, she would try for them. "She wants me," Nick had said. "I'm the one who killed her son. She can't get me with the curse. She doesn't have my blood and stuff."
"She got your dad," Julie had reminded him, taking his hand.
"That was an accident. He got in the way of it to save Mom and the girls. He would've been all right, except. She has to come for me. That's when we'll nail her."
"What if the curse doesn't end when she's dead?" Julie asked.
"It has to," Benny said, and explained that without her psychic power directing it the curse would dissipate.
"What makes you so sure?" Julie asked.
"The book said so."
"Let's hope the book's right," Karen said.
"Let's hope she's still at the lake," Julie said.
"She will be," Nick assured them. "She will be. She wants me dead."
Nick pointed up the slope, stirring Karen from her thoughts. He spoke to Julie. The girl nodded. Sitting on a boulder, she twisted around to watch him climb. Karen followed Benny across the rocks, and joined her.
"Where's he going?" Karen asked.
Julie pointed. Some distance above Nick was a dark crevice in the rocks. "He wants to check that out. We're supposed to wait here."
They watched Nick make his way higher, leaping from rock to rock, striding up an angled slab, finally reaching the shadowed gap. He shined his flashlight inside, then turned around and shook his head and started down.
Karen lowered herself onto a rock. It felt cool and lumpy through the seat of her jeans, and the pistol dug into her until she leaned back. She braced herself up on her elbows.
The water below, gray in the dim light, was ruffled by the wind. Directly across the lake was the clearing where they'd left their packs. The fireplace, a distance to the left, was intact and surrounded by the stumps and rocks they'd used for seats. Even a pile of firewood remained — wood they had gathered after swimming. She remembered the good, cold feel of the water. Flash whistling at her before she went in. Had the madwoman and her son been watching, spying on them from up here someplace? Maybe if they hadn't gone swimming, if the man hadn't seen her and Julie in their suits. Those ifs again. It was pointless to think that way. You can't go back and change anything, so why worry about it?