Back To Our Beginning (16 page)

“No,” Shanie said, even toned. “Not him.” The gun was then centered on Cord’s chest.

Blue eyes locked with brown eyes. Shanie was so angry; this was the chance she’d been waiting for, the power was in her hands. She knew all it would take was to pull the trigger and Chris would be avenged. Cord would be dead; they’d be free. But free to what? Leave into the snow where the dogs went. No, she resolved, they would make Randy and Clint leave. But what if the dogs came back? She wasn’t naive enough to believe they wouldn’t. Her indecision battled.

Then she remembered what her mother said, she wasn’t battling indecision, she was battling her humanity. Cord was flesh and blood, human, if not humane. Could she take a life, for any reason? She’d seen what guns could do, experienced it firsthand. Could she look upon his lifeless bloodied body, stare into his vacant gaze; see his friends’ anguish knowing it was she who had caused his demise? What would her father say, what would he want her to do?

“You gonna shoot me kid?” Cord asked; he held his arms wide making a clear shot available.

Shanie looked at her mother. Tansy’s eyes gaze settled onto her middle child wearing a soft, loving expression, unconditional mother’s love. Consequences, circumstances, be damned. She wasn’t angry and didn’t seem worried, she looked proud of her. The young girl’s judgment cleared, her indecision vanished.

“I’m not a killer like you are,” Shanie spat. “I’m not a judge, jury or your executioner. We don’t belong to you, and it looks like maybe you need our help as much as we need yours.”

“So what is it you want?” Cord asked, looking amused.

“I want my father’s rifle back.”

“All right. Anything else?”

Blinking, Shanie nodded as her weapon lowered. Tansy rose to her feet and removed the gun from Shanie’s limp hand; she passed it back to Clint who looked relieved. With Tansy’s arms around Shanie she held her daughter who sobbed quietly. Tansy looked up at Cord angrily.

“She needs an apology. We all do. You had no right.”

No longer amused, Cord tucked his gun in behind his belt. It had never been easy for him to say he was sorry for anything, hell was he even sorry?

“Yeah, I guess I am,” Cord volunteered thoughtfully.

“What the hell kind of an apology is that?” Shanie countered, her head snapping up off her mother’s shoulder. Clint clutched at his gun possessively wondering if she would try and get her hands on it again.

“The only one you get.”

“Don’t you think we have more important issues to deal with?” Randy demanded. “Those dogs will be back. That meat might attract bigger worries. If Tansy’s right, and I bet this ole polar bear proves it, we could be looking at lions next, or hyenas or Christ just about anything zoos hold.”

“This place isn’t as safe as I thought,” Cord said looking around. There were a few basement windows, too many places to enter or exit. They couldn’t heat it well and most of the corners stayed in darkness all day.

“Where do we go?” Clint asked.

Cord looked at the dead dogs lying around. If they left some of the meat and the dogs’ bodies, they could leave and hopefully find some other place to stay without being followed. The weather had cleared for now. He thought if they left the women and children they could travel faster, but dismissed it. They could help carry the meat, and he doubted Clint would agree to leave them anyway. Besides, the girl had shown courage to stand up to him; she was tougher than she looked. If he had to admit it, Cord liked their company.

“What do you know about this area?” Cord asked Tansy.

“Not a lot, we were heading north.”

“What’s north?”

Pausing, Tansy thought for a moment then shrugged; even if she did tell him, he’d never find it without her help. The logging trails were too confusing.

“We were headed to the abandoned mines. Underground is safer.”

“Hell,” Cord said on an expelled breath of air. “Well hell, honey, you
are
smart.”

Tansy’s return look was less than appreciative. She was thinking of a response when a delighted squeal sounded. They turned to see Michaela dragging a plump light gray puppy with black paws, in front of her. It couldn’t have been more than two months yet it was almost as big as the child who held it, the hind legs dragging along the floor while it eagerly licked at Michaela’s chin and cheek.

“My puppy,” Michaela announced.

Tansy realized how Mike had come to be over in the far corner. She must have woken and spied the pup, thinking the dogs had come to play Michaela must have toddled over to them. She must not have realized she was in danger until the pup’s mother bared her teeth at her.

Ignoring the child and puppy, Cord began to organize the small group. He encouraged they leave behind anything unnecessary to make room for more meat. They packed quickly, taking only the richest pieces of meat and leaving the lean parts behind. Cord insisted on thick fatty pieces as well, much to Tansy’s distress.

“You ain’t dieting,” Cord exploded in disgust. He towered over Tansy, hands on hips in his most impressive, ‘listen to me or else’ stance. “You ain’t shopping at the supermarket for the best cuts, honey; you need something that will put meat back on those tiny bones of yours.”

“You don’t have to yell, I’m not deaf,” Tansy snapped back a little embarrassedly. “And I’m not your honey, smart ass.” She turned on her heel and marched away.

“You’re right, I should have said vinegar,” Cord yelled after her.

“By the way, you’re welcome,” Tansy said spinning around to glare at him.

“For what?”

“For saving your sorry behind from a polar bear.”

Cord cringed; he’d been hoping she would forget about that. Worse was the smug look Tansy tossed over her shoulder at him as she once more retreated.

Randy laughed, looking like he’d bust a gut.

“Shut up,” Cord snapped and returned to his task of rationing the meat into various backpacks.

When they were set to leave, Michaela offered up a howl of protest. “My puppy,” she cried pitifully as Tansy hefted her to her hip.

The pup tugged playfully on Michaela’s snow pants trying to entice the child into more tussling. Cord put his foot down and declared he wasn’t feeding any damned dog. They had enough to worry about. He demanded the pup be left behind, it could chew on the bones and meat they were leaving behind until its pack came back for it. No, Cord didn’t care they killed its father and mother; no, he didn’t care that it was friendly. It was absolutely not coming with them; he wouldn’t allow it.

They were almost blinded by the brilliant sunlight shining off the snow. Squinting, Cord worried a moment about snow blindness. But it couldn’t be helped, he’d figure out a plan later after they left the wild dogs behind. Thankfully, the sun was melting most of the snow, it’d been a while since all of them had seen real sunlight; it shined so sporadically in the last few months. This was also the first of the real winter storms and they would get worse as the season deepened. Thankfully, it wasn’t bitterly cold to risk frostbite. Still, there was a decided nip to the air.

* * * *

Their small group moved steadily. Cord had been afraid the women would slow him down but was surprised when they managed to keep up to the three men. His grudging respect grew as the hike continued and not one of them complained, dragged their feet or whined for him to stop or slow down. Sometimes Tansy carried Michaela, and sometimes the child walked; never once did she ask anyone else to give her a break, except he noticed the other girls took turns carrying the child for short distances.

Their packs were heavy, loaded with personal items and meat. Cord carried two large extra packs laden with necessary food. He had ignored Shanie’s enraged scowling looks as he had dumped Marge and Chris’ packs onto the ground and rummaged through them for anything useful. He had pocketed Chris’ Swiss army knife and a small sewing kit of Marge’s, along with a small silver whistle, cutlery, two tin plates and two metal cups. He made a point of staring smugly at the young girl, daring her with a warning look to protest. Shanie stayed silent but added it to her list of grievances toward the large man. She knew Chris wouldn’t begrudge her or her family the items but he’d be furious to know they resided within his murderer’s possession.

It was later on in the afternoon when Cord lifted his hand and told everyone they’d stop and rest for a while; he watched Tansy set Michaela on her feet and the girls wearily let their loads drop to the ground, slumping down beside them. Cord glanced around, taking in the remains of an old farmhouse and debris. Like most places, it had been hit hard. Cord approached Clint and gestured Randy into a consultation. As he approached, Cord raised his hand up and fended off the eager response of the puppy Clint held in his backpack.

“Put that damned thing down,” Cord yelled.

Once set free, the puppy bounded to Michaela who frolicked happily with him. At Michaela’s distress back at the basement Clint picked up the pup by the scruff of its neck and plopped him into his pack. He’d seen Tansy’s look of determination and knew she planned on carrying the pup and child if need be along with her own belongings. Tansy argued Michaela had lost so much she needed something to keep her spirits up and if it came to it, the animal could eat Tansy’s share. Realizing it was beyond his control Cord had thrown his hands up in the air and began walking. They’d followed him out and quietly trailed behind.

“We need to find shelter for the night. It’ll be getting dark soon and we’ll need to collect wood and eat,” Cord said.

“What do you want us to do?” Clint asked.

“Keep your eyes open, there’s bound to be somewhere around here we can get out of the cold. As soon as the sun drops so will the temperature.” His eyes rested in disgust on the puppy that knocked Michaela to the ground and was licking her face. “If that damned thing gives her worms, I’ll tell you I told you so.”

Clint chuckled in response and went over to help the child. He tucked the puppy under one arm and the child under the other, intent on returning them to her mother, but paused as he scanned the area. Tansy was gone. Fear leaped into his chest. Striding toward Emmy, Clint demanded to know where her mother went.

Offering him an embarrassed look, she stammered, “Well we walked a long way and didn’t take any breaks.”

It suddenly dawned on him what she meant. He gave the child and pup over to her sister and walked following Tansy’s footsteps in the snow, anxiously scanning the area.

“You can’t go looking for her,” Shanie said distastefully.

“It’s too dangerous for her to be out there alone,” Clint defended himself a bit uncomfortably; they were both looking at him like he was a depraved slug.

As if to prove him right, they heard Tansy scream and a splintering crash sounded followed by a splash. Clint raced in the direction of the scream but stopped short as he came to a hole in the ground. Tansy was floundering, unhurt, in about a foot of water eight feet beneath him.

“Well, what you doin’ down there?”

“Checking the foundation,” Tansy sarcastically snapped.

Tansy had left seeking a few private moments, seeing the old door hatch to a root cellar she couldn’t resist looking to see if she could find more preserves. Seeing the shelves lined with something, her victory yell turned into a surprised scream as the ground caved in and she fell into a pool of icy water. It appeared the steps leading below had also rotted or had been removed as none existed.

“I wouldn’t buy if I were you, unless you’re looking for water frontage,” Randy quipped. He and Cord had also come running at her scream.

Randy was rewarded with a small missile that flew from the hole in his direction. Catching it last second he held it up.

Cord took the glass jar from Randy’s hands and held it up. “These are peaches,” he exclaimed surprised.

“Well hell, honey, you
are
smart,” Tansy retorted then tossed another jar at Clint.

Cord looked down at her. “Better be nice to me, Vinegar. I’m the one with the rope.”

Thinking for a moment, Tansy replied as sweetly as she could, “Would you care for more peaches?”

“Well darlin’, that’s real neighborly of you,” Cord replied.

After Tansy cleaned out the contents of the root cellar, Cord and Clint tossed her the rope and pulled her up, her teeth were chattering and she was shaking. The water had been frigid, her legs felt numb and Tansy began to worry about hypothermia again. If she had to walk the death march once more, as she’d dubbed their trek, she’d never make it.

Though melting, the snow was deep. Uphill seemed to be the worst, her legs ached as did her arms and back from carrying Michaela and a heavy pack. Thankfully Randy came to her rescue and suggested they spend the night in an old rock shelter that was half in the ground. Not too deep but dry inside and well protected from the wind with only one entrance.

The shelter proved big enough to hold them all comfortably and once their fires were going, the small area warmed quickly, especially when Cord found a rotting canvas tarp, obviously the remains of a camping trailer, to hang across the entrance, the ends flapping in a breeze determined to make its way indoors. The sharp intruding wind made the fire crackle and pop.

Tansy turned Michaela and the puppy over to her sisters’ care and removed her clothing. She had chased the men out, refusing to change until they left. She pulled out clothing from her pack that were stained yet fairly clean and dry, having been rain washed then hung over a fire, and put them on, draping her sodden clothing across a piece of wood.

She crept as close to the fire as she dared, thinking about the day. For one terrifying second, Tansy thought Cord meant to leave them in the basement, but at Clint’s lopsided grin she relaxed and breathed easier. Tansy’s thoughts of escaping were futile, she was no fool; the terror of facing the wild dogs made her realize just how dire their situation was. Even though it must have been the remains of the polar bear and the trail of blood she left while hauling the bones that attracted the dogs, Tansy knew beyond doubt if the men hadn’t been there with their weapons, they would’ve been killed, and it would’ve been a brutal demise. The dogs would have ripped her and her vulnerable children to shreds.