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Chapter Twenty-two
"A Hollow Christmas Eve"
A heavy blizzard curtailed Strenlich's search for a few hours, making the restless Kermit even more frustrated.
"Any word on how those assassins died yet?" Kermit asked, leaning close to Paul.
Blaisdell shook his head. It was clearly vexing the police captain, along with Kermit.
"Maybe we should talk to the prisoners again," Kermit said, rubbing his hands together.
"And what do you think you'll get from them that we didn't get with the last interrogation?"
Kermit gave Paul a wicked grin. "Just leave me alone with one of them for five minutes and he'll be telling us everything we want to know."
Paul sighed. "Kermit, those days are in the past. Today, we do things by the book."
Kermit cleared his voice in irritation. "Do you actually believe they arrived right before us and found their comrades dead with no idea of how it happened?"
"We have to go with known facts. Right now, we can't even tell how those men died."
"Nicky Elder will find it."
"Yes, but that's for another day. First things first. We have to find Peter and Tommy before anything else is done."
"Agreed."
Strenlich called Paul into the dining room. "Captain, do you want me to bag this as evidence or just clean it up. I've already taken some video of the scene."
As Paul knelt down, looking at the blood, Strenlich muttered, "There's a lot of blood here. If it's all Peter's, he can't be doing too well."
"Never underestimate Peter's tenacity," Paul said as he stood. "Bag what evidence you find here. We may need it later on."
Celeste limped her way into the room, surprising both Paul and Frank. She made a soft moan and nearly passed out when she saw the blood on the floor.
"Mr. Crowfoot, we could use your help here," Paul said as he caught Celeste and carried her back into the living room.
"Wh-what the hell happened?" Ansel said angrily, but his voice was tempered by fear for his niece.
"She saw blood on the floor and passed out, I guess from fear for Tommy and Peter."
"Ah, dammit, that's just what she didn't need to see."
"Keep her in there while we clean up in here," Paul ordered.
Soon, a crew of four people made the room presentable again, but Celeste had come to in the interim, because Paul could hear her crying from the living room, making Paul deeply regret his decision to bring civilians into this situation.
oOoOoOoOo
Meanwhile, as the snow storm eased off, and Strenlich had his teams canvassing the area in an organized search grid, watching out for the booby-traps and shelters as Ansel had described. They eventually found Peter's marker, looking inside the shelter to see a small supply of food, water, weapons, all weather gear, such as the down sleeping bags and first aid supplies...and more dried blood.
"I do believe both Kermit and Ansel must have received their Eagle Scout badges at a very young age," he said as he contacted Paul via walkie-talkie.
As time went on, Blaisdell's teams kept calling in. Nothing about Peter or Tommy, but with more reports of dead hit men. Dead men without a mark on them. Paul wondered if there was a mass murderer on the premise, someone playing out a morbid killing spree. Maybe with a fast-acting poison or unknown toxin. The fear grew even stronger when he realized the same man could go after Peter and Tommy just as easily.
'Damn, Celeste's dream. She said there was another danger beyond the hit men. That must be it. Whatever 'it' is...'
"Frank, do you see any tracks leading away from the shelter?" Paul asked.
Ansel was adamant about the instructions he had given to Peter and Tommy. The old man came up to Paul to remind him again, "If anything happened, they were to go to one of the shelters or make for the canoes at the creek."
"Yes, sir. It's faint, but it looks like they were heading down hill."
Paul bit his lip as hope flared. Down hill meant they were headed to the canoes. He prayed they had made it that far, at least far enough to escape further danger.
"Okay, Frank, direct your teams down to the creek. Call me when you get there. If there's a canoe missing, we can assume Peter and Tommy left by water."
"On our way. Will report as soon as we get there."
Paul stepped away from the radio setup and walked to a window, looking out at the idyllic snowy landscape. Peter and Tommy had to be found alive. Anything else was simply unacceptable.
oOoOoOoOo
Peter awakened to find Tommy beside him inside a cave, tied up once again. There was a big fire burning and he'd been out long enough for his outer clothes to begin to dry. Then he noticed Big Foot bringing in more wood and water.
When he saw Peter was awake, he started rambling, "You know you didn't have to run away, mister. I was going to help you. I didn't have to help, but I was going to. You made me mad when you started to run. I don't like it when people make me angry. I can't help what I do when I'm like that."
He hung his head for a moment. "People who make me angry cause me to do bad things."
Peter swallowed, trying to clear the raspiness and trembling in his voice due to his weakness and fever. "Sorry about that. We-We had some dangerous men following us...didn't want to get you hurt."
"I've handled dangerous men before. I got you, didn't I? But the boy came freely to me, making sure that you were okay."
He paused in front of Peter. "Is there something wrong with him? He doesn't talk."
Peter nodded his head slightly, the tiniest of movement caused a wave of vertigo and nausea to wash over him. "He's a mute. And my hearing is bad...because of an attack. Talk directly to me or put it down on paper."
Big Foot rocked back on his feet. "You guys really have been through it. I've got some paper and a pencil around here somewhere. Don't worry, I'll protect you. I know I don't look like someone you can trust, but you can. Unless you make me mad, then I do crazy things. That's why I live in this cave, away from the rest of the world, so I won't hurt anybody again."
The word "again" resonated in Peter's thoughts. 'Shit, we've got a psycho on our hands.'
Peter paused for a moment, remembering the conversation at the Whitehorse's store. How many had turned up missing? Three men...or was it four? This guy had all the makings for being the source of the mysterious murders and disappearances.
Peter's brain was muddled with illness, along with worry over Tommy as he tried to figure some way out of their present situation. Big Foot continued to talk, almost like he was talking to himself. "I'm making us some squirrel stew for dinner. It's one of my favorites."
Peter smiled and bit his lip as he thought about their squirrely host. They had to get away and fast, but Peter had no idea of how to make that happen. He would just have to grab the opportunity when the moment arose. Though, at that very moment, he could barely keep his eyes open. Despite his fight to stay alert, he drifted back into unconsciousness.
oOoOoOoOo
When Peter regained consciousness later on, he heard Big Foot reading to Tommy. "This one I wrote a long time ago."
Tommy looked panicked as the big man sat beside him and began to read nonsense to him. Big Foot didn't seem to notice Tommy's rigid stance as he finished by saying, "Hope, kid, that's all we have at times. Remember that and you'll do okay in life," the big guy said.
Peter shook his head. The man had brief moments of clarity. Peter prayed the clarity would remain until they made good their escape. Looking to Big Foot again, Peter didn't hold out much hope, but hope was all they had, as the big man had just told Tommy.
Yet, hope seemed like an unrealistic fairy tale as he fell unconscious again.
oOoOoOoOo
The next time Peter awakened, he was lying on his back on a disgustingly smelly animal pelt used as a rug. The only saving grace of the cave was the fire burning, warming the constant chill in his bones.
Tommy was still beside him, holding the knapsack and the cane, but neither of them were tied up any longer. Peter exchanged wary glances with Tommy regarding the cane in his hand and Tommy slipped the cane to Peter's side just before their guard turned around.
Big Foot saw that Peter was awake and ladled some stew into a bowl for Peter, bringing it over to him. Peter accepted it as he gingerly sat up and leaned against a wall for support.
"Smells good," he said, stirring the soup with his spoon. "What's your name?"
The question seemed to make the big man nervous. "George. My name is George. I used to have a last name, but it's been so long...I forget what it is."
"Don't worry about it, George. Just grateful for you to be here. Very grateful." Peter did his best to get in good with George until their window of opportunity popped up.
George behaved himself for a few hours, and then he told Tommy to do something and Tommy didn't do it right away. He slapped the boy, and then regretted his action, saying he was only teasing, but the red hand mark on Tommy's face was more than teasing.
Peter clutched the cane, fighting the urge to shoot George where he stood.
"George, please," Peter said, slowly sliding himself between the boy and George. "The boy just lost his parents. Killed right in front of him. Please don't hit him, not even in teasing. The kid has been through hard times."
Peter's words seem to get through to George and he nodded, bending down to Tommy's eye level. "I'm sorry. I promise I won't hit you again, okay?"
Peter scooped Tommy into his arms as quickly as his injuries permitted and hugged him for a long moment, whispering into his ear. "You'll be okay. Together, we'll get out of here."
The feverish trembling in Peter's body hit suddenly zapped his strength and his vision went gray, along with fearsome waves of vertigo caused from his movements. He managed to set Tommy down beside him, keeping one hand on the boy's shoulder as he whispered, "I think I'm gonna..."
He slumped over, but he was already out before his torso hit the ground.
oOoOoOoOo
Tommy was worried about Peter. If something bad happened to Peter, he'd be stuck with George. Even as a kid, Tommy knew George was a crazy man. And a crazy man had killed his parents, but he wasn't going to kill Peter, not while Tommy was still around to keep him safe. The boy fiddled with Ansel's cane after Peter had passed out again, holding it anxiously, but he wasn't sure if he could actually use it.
When George had gone out to check his traps, he warned Tommy, "I will be watching the cave, so don't even think of leaving. That would make me very angry. Very angry."
Then he left them alone. Tommy pulled out his water-logged book on "The Spirit of the Forest". He turned to a section where they mentioned the ancient phrases used to invoke the Forest spirit for protection.
He scooted closer to Peter and touched his forehead. His friend's skin was so hot, and Peter was shaking and murmuring as if he were caught up in another dream. Tommy didn't know what else to do, but to call for the Forest spirit to come and save them again. This time he was asking for protection from only one man, namely George.
He started reading the words aloud, and brought a hand to his throat. It felt so strange to be speaking again, but he didn't let that distract him. He continued with the summoning prayer until it was done.
He thought about the majestic forest surrounding them as he continued to pray to the Spirits for help. He imagined ancient Indian ceremonies paying homage and respect to the Spirit of the Forest, who could be both a friend or a dangerous adversary to an enemy of the people.
Tommy prayed to the Great Spirits, prayed like he'd never prayed before, even though he didn't have any sage to burn or pollen to offer to the four corners as he said his prayers. "Please bring the Spirit of the Forest to save us one more time. Peter is so sick and this man will kill us without your help."
Once done, he then lay down next to Peter, hoping the Forest spirit heard him. Otherwise, Peter wasn't going to live very long. And he was too scared to think about his own survival with crazy George, if Peter was gone.
Tommy didn't know what was happening outside the cave, as the mists started forming, growing dense within seconds.
oOoOoOoOo