Those Who Went Remain There Still (7 page)

We were only another two miles from the water, and when we reached the river, we were done. We could have finished it in just another few days, though it would’ve gone quicker if we’d had our full strength and we’d been sleeping better. But knowing the job’s end was close made us all work harder. Knowing it was near, and there was an end in sight…it made us all eager, even as exhausted and harried as we were.

***

Sometimes I swear, I don’t know why we bothered to set up camp anymore. It’s not as if anyone could sleep, but our bodies would’ve given out on us if we didn’t rest. It was hard, though, with her always watching and hanging close. It was hard, with us getting hungrier every day and there being less and less game to shoot.

Even with our numbers reduced, it took a lot of grub to feed twenty men. And our stores, what stores we had, were mostly ruined by that
thing
. She’d shit on whatever she couldn’t steal, like if she couldn’t have it, nobody would. It was malicious, is what it was. And it scared me, I don’t mind admitting it. It scared me because until I cut that road and met that thing, I’d never seen outright hate from anything on earth except for man.

But she could be outsmarted, I knew that for sure—because she almost got the better of me, but she
didn’t
.

***

We set up our camp in the middle of the road we’d cut, because it was the only spot where there weren’t any trees creeping right up on us. We didn’t leave her anywhere to hide from us, and she didn’t have any good way to sneak up on us, either.

It took over an hour to get our fire burning huge and hot, but when it was lit and blazing, I bet you could’ve seen it from the moon. To hear tell of it, you might think we were inviting trouble; but the fire was our only defense. It gave us light enough to see her by, and it gave us a circle we could cling to, where she wouldn’t or couldn’t reach us.

My shirts were pocked with holes singed by flying embers, and my skin was stung in little blisters where the coals burned through. I started wearing my buckskin coat all the time, even when it was so warm, so close to the fire—that I thought I’d faint dead away if I stood there another moment. But it was better than getting licked by the fire, and it was better than getting nicked by that thing up in the trees.

So we made our fire and we sat in the middle of the spot we’d cleared and we did our best to rest.

The sun was going down and we were toppling with it. We sank around the fire, all of us crouching as close to it as we dared, and we turned our backs to it so we were sitting in a circle—facing out. Always, we were facing out, and facing up.

What else could we do?

We’d gotten a little more confident, since she’d skipped us the night before. We thought maybe there was a chance she’d leave us alone. Maybe she wasn’t hungry anymore, or maybe she had gone her own way, looking for easier prey. That’s what we told ourselves, and those are the possibilities we talked about around the fire; but we weren’t dumb enough to believe our own talk.

It’s just what you do, when you’ve got a big bunch of people who are all scared shitless, but who don’t want to look bad in front of each other. You talk up how you hope it’s going to go. But you brace yourself for how you
think
it’s going to go.

We
thought
she’d be back, and we were right.

She was too mean to go away easy, or that’s how we felt about it; so when the night got all unnaturally quiet again—and when the fire kicked shadows in funny shapes all the way to the treetops on the outside of our circle…we knew she was coming. The whole forest knew it.

The trees cringed back and sank against their roots. The bugs, and bats, and mice alike all quit scurrying and hid in their holes. I imagined them burying themselves in deep, and closing their eyes against the night.

***

Foxes have holes, and birds of the air have nests—but the son of man hath nowhere to lay his head.

***

The old verse came to mind, and it made me think of us. Not that I’d ever compare myself or my men to Christ, but the sentiment rang true all the same. And wasn’t that the whole point of sending a Christ in the first place? He came here to be one of us, and to live like one of us. That’s the task and duty of a caring God, to better understand His creation.

So He knew what it was like, somehow or another. He’d been where we were, lying out on the ground with no shelter and no safety.

I want to say it comforted me, remembering the words from my old grandfather’s Bible, and maybe it did for a bit. But as soon as she came down, bigger than a bear and winged, and taloned with claws bigger than any hawk, I don’t mean my faith flew away…but it sure did jump up with fright.

She swooped over us, low enough that we could see her breasts all swinging and swaying, but too fast for us to get off any good shots. With her wings all spread out she glided fast, blocking out the moon for several long seconds. She cast a shadow that shocked us with its size. The air burst up underneath her, her wings pumping like bellows and fanning the fire up hard.

First she gave us a pass. It was one long swoop that woke us up and had us all on our feet faster than she could turn around and come back for a second dive.

By then I had my musket out and it was already packed and ready to fire. My other five men with guns were all ready too, just the same—and when she made a second swoop down across the campsite, they did good. They all held steady, just like I told them, until she was close enough we could count her toes.

It almost distracted me, looking at those feet. The claws were long and curved, and pointed so sharp that the firelight glinted on their edges.

But I fired with the musket and then I pulled my pistol out of my belt and aimed that up too.

I didn’t have time to shoot it. She was gone as fast as she’d come, and I didn’t want to waste powder on shooting at her shadow, so I didn’t.

After she’d passed us that second time, and she was coming to the tip of her arc up there in the sky—before she descended again—we all were holding either an axe or a gun and every one of us was prepared to use it. We had no idea how much heat or lead she could take, but we intended to find out.

We fired in waves and it shocked her, but I don’t know how much it hurt her. She jerked in the air; we could see her bulky shadow topple and shake, then dip low to the ground. Then she swung back again, lifting herself up high. But she didn’t do it smooth. She didn’t glide or even do that funny lilting hop, like when she bounced from tree to tree.

“She’s hit,” I said, but it wasn’t a bragging thing—and I didn’t say it with anything like triumph. We’d got her, but that didn’t mean she was dead; and it didn’t mean she’d stay gone just because we hoped we’d hurt her.

Outside camp, back into the trees at the far side of the road, we heard a terrific crash.

All my men started to mumble, all of us wondering the same thing.

There came more crashing, more thrashing. She was kicking around and injured, at least, if she wasn’t dying.

We waited, holding our breath and praying. And finally, the thrashing stopped.

And everyone looked at me.

Well, that was okay. This was my job, wasn’t it? Someone had to go check and see. Or maybe nobody had to do it, and we should’ve left it alone. I guess, looking back, I should’ve just told them all to settle in for the night and stay close to the fire, because maybe she was dead, and maybe it was a trick.

But there was no way to know unless someone went and looked, and since this was my Road, that someone was me.

I took a minute and I reloaded everything I was carrying. While I worked the horn and the powder, and while I dug out the shot, I told all the men at the fire, “I’m going to go see about it. If she’s dead, then good. If she ain’t, then maybe I can fix that. I’ve killed bears bigger than her, and I’ll kill her too, if I get the chance.”

Little Heaster put up his hand.

“You going by yourself?”

“I’m going by myself,” I said. “That’s right. There’s no sense in everybody looking. You’ll all take my word for it, won’t you? If I tell you she’s dead?”

They all nodded, but that wasn’t what the boy meant. He said, “What if you get hurt, or get dead? What if you need some help? You shouldn’t do it alone. Let me come with you. I’ll hang back, if you want me to. And I won’t say nothing unless you need me to. I can look after myself. You won’t have to worry about me.”

“I know you can look after yourself. I’m not worried about that.” I tucked the powder horn back into my belt, all slow-like. I was taking my time because I wanted to put him off, but I didn’t know how to do it without making him look bad or feel bad in front of everybody.

And I couldn’t think of anything. He had a good point, I knew. I didn’t like putting anyone else in trouble’s way, that’s all. He was the biggest lad we had with us, and he was fast, too. If I wanted to take a helper, he was the obvious pick.

I told him, “You’re right. If something happens and I can’t get back, someone will need to come tell everybody. But it’s like you said, you’ll have to hang behind. It won’t do any good for anybody if we both get eaten. You only come along to watch, that’s all. You get it?”

“I get it,” he said. He nodded and didn’t smile. I figured he got it well enough.

“Let’s go, then.”

I reached into the edge of the fire and pulled out a branch big enough to work as a torch. The end of it was all lit up. I motioned for Heaster to do the same, and he did. He shook the loose embers off his stick and held it up.

Together me and the boy went walking away from the camp.

I looked back over my shoulder and saw the men who’d stayed; they were standing in a ring, all their eyes glittering bright in the shaky light of the fire. They were curious and scared. They were restless, shifting back and forth on their feet and trying to see through the dark and between the trees where the thing had crashed down.

***

It didn’t take long for us to lose the light of the camp. We were just a few trees deep into the woods and the light was cut in half, and then cut in half again as more trunks came between us and everybody else.

The woods closed in fast, tall above us and wide around us. They felt thicker than they do during the day, when we can see more than a few feet around us—or however far the improvised torches would cast an unsteady glow.

I held out my arm and made Heaster hang back. He didn’t like it, but he understood well enough to do as I asked him.

I wasn’t real sure where the creature had landed, so I swept my eyes back and forth and squinted, trying to see farther. The whole world was dead quiet, and I didn’t like it—because if she were dead, the forest would come back to life. Or that’s what I told myself, anyhow. If she were dead, the woods would’ve breathed a sigh of relief same as us.

But nothing sighed. Nothing quivered or twitched, and nothing moved—not even the wind.

Heaster dropped one of his big hands on my shoulder. I looked back at him and he was holding two fingers up to his mouth, making a face that said, “Hush.” Then he pointed at a spot just outside of where my torchlight reached.

I whispered, “You see something?” He was a whole stack taller than me, and for all I knew he could see farther because of it.

He bobbed his head and pulled his pistol out of his belt with his free hand. I almost did, and then I changed my mind.

She’d already been hit with shot, more than a couple of times. Between me and Heaster, we’d have three more rounds of lead to sink into her; but I didn’t believe that’d be enough. And then what? Should we hit her with the torches?

No, I didn’t like that any. So I pulled out my axe instead. I switched the torch to my left hand and hoisted the axe with my right. It might not pack the same punch, but I could punch with it over and over again if I had to; and an axe don’t run out of sharpness so fast, like a gun goes empty of lead.

***

Little Heaster had been right. I could see her before I could hear her. She was rolling slowly in a clearing she’d made for herself with her own weight. She lolled around and it looked limp, almost. She looked like she was hurting.

It was real odd the way I could watch her and not hear her. Again I was thinking of owls, and the way they fly without making a sound.

I waved Heaster back, and this time he resisted me a little. He only took a half step away, and he didn’t stop coming after me. I stopped, and I held out a finger and pointed at him hard.

“Stay here,” I breathed. “And if you move without me telling you, I’ll shoot you myself rather than let her have you.”

I twisted my fingers around the axe’s handle. My hands were starting to sweat, so I adjusted my grip on the torch, too.

And then I went to meet her.

VIII

Six Strangers

Uncle John surprised me, not because I didn’t know he was coming, but because I was expecting something else. From the stories I heard, I thought he’d look a little more wicked or a little more wild; but the man who came to my dead mother’s porch looked more like a school teacher than anything else.

***

His hair was starting to creep back away from his forehead, and he was lean, like the rest of us. He wore clothes that fit him just right. They looked expensive, and they looked too nice to wear out here. He couldn’t possibly work in them.

Or, if he did, it wasn’t any work with his hands.

***

We sat up and talked a little bit. I had some salted meat and dried corn left from the trip down, and I shared it with him while I listened.

He asked about me and what I’d done since leaving, but thatwas a real short story. So mostly, he was the one doing all the talking. I didn’t mind. I liked listening to him. I liked hearing someone from Leitchfield speak like an educated man, and the longer he talked the more sure I was that he wasn’t some lunatic like I’d heard. The more he talked the more ordinary he sounded, even when he got on about his church.

I’ll admit, the bits about the church made me uncomfortable. I haven’t been a praying sort of man in many years, but the idea of praying to dead people makes me feel itchy. It doesn’t sound right.