"Calm down, Cindy, we won't."
Paul exited the interrogation room and gave him a questioning look. Mark told him what was happening.
Paul's eyes took on a steely glare. "I'm going up there."
"What, how? You don't even know for sure where they'll be."
"My sister has a Jeep. I've been to that area lots of times. If they're up there, I can find them."
Paul was already in motion toward the front door.
"What do you want me to do?" Mark called after him.
Paul turned and gave him a strange look. "You're a good cop, Mark. The best. Inside that room is a man who is your prisoner. And he's the only one who can call offa team of killers who are about to slaughter fourteen kids and a rabbi. If they haven't already. Do whatever you feel led to do."
Then Paul sprinted from the building.
"Cindy. Paul's on his way up there to get to Jeremiah and the kids. I'm going to see what I can do here to get the hit called off. You go home, sit tight. I'll be calling you shortly," Mark said before ending the call.
He turned to stare at the interrogation room. A monitor displayed what was happening inside the room, which was being recorded. He turned it offand glanced around. No one was looking his way.
"God forgive me," he whispered as he headed back into the room.
Jeremiah crawled out the door of the third building just as Noah arrived with the gang in tow. Seeing several kids dancing from foot to foot Jeremiah queried, "Who needs a bathroom break?"
Every hand shot into the air as if pulled by the same string.
"Okay. There are three stools in this building, which will be for the boys. Crawl through the door; avoid touching the cobwebs. Girls follow me to the next building. Sorry but there is only one stool in there."
When they drew closer to the second building Jeremiah whispered to the girls, "This one is cleaner. Don't forget to crawl through the door."
"Still in stealth mode?" asked Sarah.
"Yes. Anyone looking at the outside of these buildings must think that we have not been here. Stay inside until I return."
"No problem," said Brenda as she quickly crawled through the open door.
Jeremiah circled around the building and headed to the carport-like structure. There was not much to be found there.It looked like the logging company had done a good job cleaning out most of their equipment. As he approached the rear of the structure he heard an unmistakable sound.
Rattlesnake!
Great . . . dinner, thought Jeremiah. The sound was coming from a small stack of plywood near the back. Carefully he moved the wood with his sharpened branch. The snake slithered out the back toward the trees. Jeremiah easily speared the snake, pinning it to the ground. Using a nearby shovel, Jeremiah cleanly cut offthe snake's head. After the body stopped writhing around, he picked it up and laid it out on a nearby workbench. Timber rattler, short in length but large in diameter. Lots of meat.
Using the pocketknife, Jeremiah quickly filleted the snake.Picking up the tail, he squeezed out the fatty tissue onto the meat. I doubt there is any cooking oil or butter in those cabins. Placing the meat onto a small piece of wood Jeremiah returned to the girls' building. Both girls were kneeling on the floor just inside the door.
"Okay, ladies, let's check this place out."
Unlike the equipment structure, the logging company left a mess in the small buildings. They quickly found the cooking shack. There were plenty of cupboards, a large sink with dish racks full of plates, silver, and glassware. The stove was a joke.There were two propane camp stoves, both of which had been charred from excessive use. There was a small refrigerator that Jeremiah was not going to open for any reason. Who knows what is living in there?
"Ladies, carefully look in those cupboards and tell me what you find. I will check these cabinets over here."
"Pots and pans in here," Brenda called out.
"Canned goods in this one," said Sarah.
Jeremiah found a dozen propane bottles but they seemed to all be empty. "Gas bottles over here, but they are all wrapped in plastic," said Sarah.
"Great, grab two for me, please."
Sarah handed Jeremiah two gas bottles. "Check the bottoms of the canned goods looking for any signs of rust," he said to no one in particular. Jeremiah quickly attached the gas bottles to the camp stoves. Using a stick match from the box on the shelf above the stoves, he lit them both. Both stoves lit, but the flames were not even. One side of all the burners had rusted through, leaving no flame on the opposite side.
"All the cans have rust except some canned peaches that are still wrapped in plastic," said Brenda.
"We need a large skillet. Did either of you see one?"
"There are five or six over here," said Sarah.
"Great. Take two over to the sink and rinse them out," Jeremiah instructed Sarah.
"Swell. Lost in the woods. Chased by assassins. Sleeping on the ground. No baths. And I draw dishwashing duty," moaned Sarah.
"In the interest of fair play, Brenda, you will wash the plates and silverware," said Jeremiah.
"Awwww," groaned Brenda while Sarah burst into hysterical laughter.
Handing his P38 to Sarah, he added, "You can open the peaches."
It was Brenda's turn to laugh.
Good, keep it light-hearted. They don't need to know how bad this is going to get.
"Did anyone find cooking oil in the cupboards?"
"No" came the reply.
Jeremiah took the frying pans from Sarah and placed them on the burners. Next he added some of the snake's fatty tissue and ground pepper to the pans. Taking a spatula from the shelf Jeremiah placed several pieces of meat into each pan and he was met with the sound of sizzling flesh.
"That smells good," said Noah as he crawled through the doorway.
"Dang! There goes my last fingernail. Here, you do this," complained Sarah as she thrust the peaches and P38 into Noah's chest.
Everybody started laughing at once.
"Sounds like a party in there," one of the boys outside yelled.
Four minutes each side . . . don't over or under cook this beastie . . .
"Food, food, food!" the kids outside started chanting.
"Noah. Go tell everyone to quiet down. We are not out of this yet . . . and remember, we are not alone up here," Jeremiah said to the boy.
"Sarah. Come over and watch the pans, please. Turn the meat over in two minutes. Four minutes per side. When done put them on the platter Brenda is washing now, and put more of this grease and meat into the pans. Can you do that?"
The expression on her face said it all. Do I look like I am five?
Jeremiah crawled out of the building. "Guys, let's go build a dining table." Jeremiah led the kids to the carport structure.After he had checked for additional creatures he helped the boys haul wood to the center of the area. Noah then took charge and directed the table and bench assembly, while Jeremiah returned to the cooking shack to check on the girls.
As Jeremiah crawled through the door he overheard the girls talking softly.
"You're right. I thought the Rabbi said there were no fish in the streams here."
"So where did he get this much meat? It had to be five or six big ones."
Before they could ask him, Jeremiah grabbed up the platter and headed for the door. "Bring the dinnerware and the spatula, please," he said over his shoulder. "Oh, and don't forget the peaches."
Everyone was seated around the table eyeing the "fish" on the platter. Several of the younger boys were visibly drooling.
"Before we begin, we must give thanks to HaShem for bringing us safely here and providing this meal." All the kids bowed their heads without a single sound.
"Adonai, we praise you for bringing us this far and we ask your guidance as we travel this wilderness and partake of this bounty."
"Amen," half the kids chorused at the end.
Mark sat quietly at the table in the interrogation room, tears streaking down his face.
Blood covered his hands and clothes. He had turned the interrogation room into a torture chamber. Across the room Frank Butler was slumped on the floor, unconscious.
Mark had broken every vow he had ever made to himself about not hurting others. He'd also just ended his career. And he'd probably go to jail when people realized what he'd done.
And it was all for nothing.
He had finally gotten the weasel to agree to call offhis assassins. He thought he had won, saved all those lives. It would be worth it.
But he had forgotten the most important thing. No working phone lines, and no cell reception. Just like they couldn't call up the mountain to warn anyone of the massacre, Frank Butler couldn't call to stop it.
The door was locked, the camera was off, and the room was soundproof. He pulled out his gun and stared at it. After what he had done not only was his life shattered, but any hope of convicting Frank Butler was gone with it. Any bit of evidence they had or could get would be thrown out because of the stain of his actions. He had let a killer go free.
It would have been worth it if he could have saved anybody.Because, in the end, he'd rather save a single life than catch a killer after the fact. Most murders were single acts, often born of intense passion and not likely to be repeated.
He stared at Frank. Not so with him. The man had been so arrogant, so remorseless. It couldn't have been the first time he had killed. And if he walked free, it wouldn't be the last.
"Maybe I can still save some lives," he whispered. "At least I can stop him from killing again."
He hefted the gun in his hand. It was too late to make it look like an accident. He could claim there had been a struggle, but his fellow officers would know better, and ultimately, they would do the right thing and put him away.
Paul, did you know what I was capable of, how far I'd go? Mark wondered.
He dragged himself to his feet and moved to stand over the man on the floor.
My victim, Mark realized as he aimed the gun at his head.
18
JEREMIAH WATCHED AS NOAH CAREFULLY SCOOPED PIECES OF MEAT TO EACH person. All eyes then turned to the rabbi for permission to start.
"Begin."
Flashing forks caused the meat to disappear faster than anyone could have predicted. Fortunately there was enough for all to eat their fill. When it came time for dessert everyone commented on how great the peaches tasted. He smiled, knowing from experience that a simple can of peaches could taste like heaven to a man lost in the wilderness. As much as he wanted to indulge in them, he avoided it, choosing instead to only eat a small meal of the snake. He needed to stay awake, probably for a long time still. That meant he could only consume a small amount of food and only protein.
Not surprisingly, most of the kids started looking very drowsy after they ate. "Noah, girls, pick up all the things on the table and take them to the cook shack, please."
Once the meal had been cleared Jeremiah had the remaining kids lie down on the table and benches. Minutes later they were all fast asleep.
Entering the shack, Jeremiah could see the girls busily cleaning up the pans and dishes while Noah was carefully putting everything back where it had come from.
"Rabbi, where did you find that fantastic fish? Didn't you say there were none in the stream?" Sarah finally asked.
"Yeah, and how many were there? That was a lot of meat," chimed in Brenda.
Noah just smiled. Jeremiah realized he knew what they had really eaten. Signaling to Noah, Jeremiah walked over to the girls. "Stay calm, promise?" he asked both of them.
After both had nodded yes, Jeremiah told them the truth."It was only one, and it was a timber rattler."
Before the girls could scream, Noah and Jeremiah had covered the girls' mouths. When they had calmed down, the men removed their hands. Both girls turned sputtering and spitting into the sink.
"But, but . . . but . . . it tasted like fish . . . where . . . how . . ." Brenda stammered.
"I can't believe you made me eat rattlesnake. . . . Ewwww . . ." blurted out Sarah.
"I didn't make you eat anything. You were hungry and assumed it was fish. You are accustomed to eating fish. The meat smelled like, looked like, and tasted like fish, didn't it?" Jeremiah asked.
"Yeah, but . . ." started Brenda.
"Rattlesnake is actually quite nutritious, and as you now know, tastes pretty good too."
Noah, changing the subject, asked, "What now, Rabbi?"
"It is close to four o'clock. It is still too bright out to risk moving right now. We will stay here till midnight before starting down the fire road. Right now we all need some rest."
"I set up another table for us to sleep on because the other kids have totally covered our dinner table," Noah told the girls.Turning to Jeremiah, he asked, "Guard duty?"
Before Jeremiah could respond, Sarah jumped in with "I'll take the first shift. I am totally weirded out by what I just ate."
"Me too. I'll go second," Brenda added.
"You girls stand guard together. Noah will go second and I will be last. Sarah, teach Brenda how guard duty works, Okay?"
"Rabbi, that means you will have a longer shift than the three of us," said Noah.
"True, but I am no longer growing and don't need much sleep anyway." Thirty-two hours awake so far, well short of the ninety-two in that place . . . don't think it! He took a breath. "If any of the kids wakes up and needs a bathroom, escort them to the shack and back. We don't need anyone aimlessly wandering around the area."
Everyone acknowledged the instructions and started for the door. "Are we going to make it?" asked Sarah as she crouched down to crawl through the doorway.
"Yes!" was all Jeremiah said before waving her out the door.
Right. When did you turn into Mister Happy? All things being equal, the odds say none of us will make it.
Cindy paced her bedroom, having moved there to pace after having accidentally stepped on the spot where Max had died when pacing the living room. "Come on, Mark, call me back.Tell me what's going on," she said out loud.
She tried his cell again, but he didn't pick up. The longer she went without hearing the worse she felt. It was going to be dark soon and all she could think of was Jeremiah and the kids on the mountain, fighting for their lives.
If they haven't already lost them, she thought. She slapped herself lightly on the cheek. Don't think that way!
She couldn't take it anymore. She had to do something.
Mark heard a soft knock on the locked door to the interrogation room. Then a scratching sound. Someone was picking the lock. It was now or never. His finger tightened on the trigger.
The door swung open. Mark turned to look. Kneeling at the door was his wife.
"Traci?" he asked, his mind racing.
She stared from him to Frank's unconscious form and then back at him. "Mark?"
"It's not . . ." he stopped. It was exactly what it looked like and she would know even if he tried to deny it.
She stood and swung the door closed behind her. "Put the gun down, honey."
"What are you doing here?" he asked.
"Paul called me. He told me what was happening. He said that he thought you were going to need me. He wanted me to tell you he was sorry."
"I'm sorry for everything," he said.
"I'm not. You haven't done anything yet that I'm ashamed of, and I'll stand by you no matter what comes."
"They're going to come in here at any moment," Mark said.
She shook her head. "There's a very hysterical lady outside demanding that they send every available officer to Green Pastures in armored trucks."
"Cindy," Mark groaned.
"I kind of figured it had to be. No one's going to be looking for us for a while."
She put her hand on his arm and he dropped it, taking his finger offthe trigger and sliding the safety on like he always did whenever he was around her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and he clung to her like he was drowning.
"Hel
p me, Traci."
"I'm here."
The group walked back to the dining area. Noah climbed up onto the second table he had constructed and settled himself for a nap. Without saying anything Jeremiah pointed out the best guard locations to the two girls. As Brenda moved to her position, Jeremiah whispered to Sarah, "I'm going to scout the area for activity. I will return here from the direction of the cooking shack."
She nodded.
Jeremiah began his scouting trek by returning to the trail they had made coming down into the logging camp. He then turned and moved down the ridge for about fifteen minutes.He then turned half right heading in the general direction of the fire road. Carefully making his way through heavy brush and undergrowth, Jeremiah took extra care not to leave any tracks or damage any bushes. Thirty minutes later he arrived at the fire road. He figured his location to be about two miles away from the logging camp. Turning uphill toward the camp, Jeremiah carefully inspected the road.
This is not a good road. This would be very difficult at any time, but in the dark it is going to be very dangerous.
The road had not been used for a long time. It was full of ruts and holes, all of which contained muddy water. There were no shoulders to speak of and there were rocks and boulders everywhere. About a half mile from the logging camp, he could see there were a couple of large trees lying across the road.
What's that sound?
Instantly, Jeremiah was offthe road, lying behind a large boulder, holding the open pocketknife at the ready. He lay there not moving or breathing for nearly a minute until he heard the sound again. A vehicle . . . maybe a Jeep . . . someone's coming. But who? he whispered to himself as he drew a shallow breath.
Can I make it to the fallen tree? No! Great! he hissed to himself.I'm on the wrong side of the road to take out the driver . . . can't move now . . . too late for that . . . think.
The Jeep appeared about fifty feet away. It was struggling to make headway on the messed-up road. Get ready, breathe, he said to himself as every nerve and muscle tensed for what was to come.