Chapter Twenty-One

 

We stoked the fire as Billy and Kevin approached. They had been fighting the brutal wind as they walked and would surely be grateful for the heat once they arrived. We carried steel cups in our gear and took the time to fill them with snow, melting it alongside the fire. We did the same with a thermos and eventually filled several canteens. I scanned the distant mountains, seeing no sign of Howard. I thought it somewhat ironic that the killer had now become the prey and the hunter was now the hunted. On the other hand, perhaps he remained the hunter and we remained his prey, as I did not allow my wishful thinking to rule out the possibility.

Billy and Kevin walked up, the bitter chill showing in their posture. They swarmed the fire as they tried to shake off the cold. For several minutes, they warmed themselves by the fire as we talked.

“What the hell you doing out here, all gallivantin’ round the mountains?” Eric scolded with a smile.

“Well, I spose I’m doin’ same as you, ya old fart,” Kevin replied. “You best be careful Pa, this cold might break them feeble old bones of yours if you gets ta shiverin’ a mite.”

“At least my skin is thick enough ta keep them were they should be, instead of all stickin’ out like skewers.”

We laughed as they carried on, trading their taunts and quick-witted comebacks. We sat for a few minutes longer by the fire and I filled the pipe once more. I had not realized until then that Eric kept his smoking unknown to his son. I had in fact smoked with Kev several times but it was not until then, that they first shared a smoke together. It was perhaps an announcement of manhood, a passing of the torch if you will, as Kevin took the pipe from his father, no longer a boy among men.

It was a faint reminder of our previous world, where fathers hid the truths and realities of life from their children, protecting them until they themselves had grown wise enough to handle the world on their own. This world was harsh and unforgiving. Our children could not be easily sheltered from its wrath and they were now forced to grow up much more quickly than any child should ever have to. It was a good to recall that life, and a comforting realization, knowing that the old life had not entirely left us behind. We would survive and life would continue. We would raise our children, much as we always had, and they would grow to follow in the footsteps we leave behind.

We continued on, following footsteps of a different kind. Our break had certainly allowed him an advantage and we wasted no time as we moved forward. Before long, we found the place where Howard had made camp. The coals of his fire still smoldered, informing us that he had only recently left it behind. We found a trail of tracks and followed them to a peak, where he had sat watching, with a clear view of our midday fire from its vantage point.

We continued down the trail, noticing an erratic movement in his tracks. The stride of his right foot seemed nearly half as long as that of his left. We noted the discrepancy, acknowledging that he may be injured, although frostbite would be a more likely culprit. We followed on, confident in the thought that we would quickly gain ground.

We stopped just below a ledge, cautious not to skyline ourselves, as the sun was now at our backs. If he decided to wait in ambush, our silhouettes would stand out clearly atop the mountain, making us easy targets for even an unskilled marksman. This area in particular formed a sort of chokepoint, which would provide an ample sight for such an ambush.

I readied my rifle and dropped to a crawl, creeping up to the ridge with caution. The sunlight lit the far hillside and I clearly made out the form of a man. He had indeed waited. I steadied my aim and fired. Although certain my shot rang true, he did not move. I expected him to fall or slump over, shifting himself somehow, but instead he remained perfectly still. I looked again through the scope, hoping to see a painful grimace on his face or some other telltale sign of a hit, but his face was covered by a ski mask and I could not make out his features. I steadied my aim once more and sent a round through the left eyehole of the mask. Again the man did not move, this time however, a faint reddish mist formed on the snow behind him. My shot had struck on target. He was dead.

I returned to the others and lit a cigarette, offering one to each of the others.

“I thought you quit them things,” Kevin said, taking one for himself.

“I did,” I replied. “But it ain’t an easy thing, killin’ a man, never is. I need a damn smoke.”

I hoped silently that I would never again have the use for a cigarette. I had killed more men than I cared to recall and I would be content, even happy, if the need never came again. I had never liked killing, but it turned out that I was good at it. I considered also that for each life I had taken, many more had been saved, but it was a harsh reality nonetheless, and it remained hard to swallow.

We finished our cigarettes and proceeded toward him to verify my kill. We would all rest easier having seen his body. As we neared, the faint odor of death grew a sickness in my gut. I turned to warn the others but my warning came an instant too late. I turned just as the shot thundered through the mountains. Eric dropped to his knees, then fell face down into the snow and did not move.

Kevin screamed out in anguish and dove to the ground, clenching his father tightly in his arms. The rest of us dropped down as well, although seeking cover instead. As we did, a second shot sounded. Billy yelped out a pain-filled shriek and dropped behind a mound of rock with the others. I found shelter behind a mound of rock of my own and pulled my Winchester from my pack. I searched the area and caught only a flicker of motion as Howard retreated, disappearing into a sea of white.

I glanced back at the others, still stunned with disbelief. It was then that I saw Eric, wrapped snuggly in his son’s grasp, blood pouring from a hole in his forehead between his hairline and left eye, he was gone. I turned my attention to Billy, who was alive but had taken a round in his left shoulder. My thoughts began to turn but I forced them back, knowing the time for sorrow and suffering would come soon enough.

I started toward the body, the odor grew more intense as I crawled, yet remained faint, as the bitter cold had nearly frozen the corpse. I pulled the ski mask back and suddenly realized that the odd pattern of the tracks we followed were not due to an injury, he had been carrying the lifeless body of Pastor Dave. Howard had outwitted us all, myself especially. I had anticipated the ambush yet still led us straight into it. Anger and hatred swelled inside me and a queasy sickness began to build in my gut.

I shook off the urge to vomit and crawled back to the others. They had retained their cover within the mound of rock, where Ethan had begun working to stop the bleeding from Billy’s shoulder. Kevin sat silently, holding the lifeless body of my dear friend, his father. The boy did not cry, instead he sat silently with Eric draped across his lap. A fire burned in Kevin’s eyes, unlike any I had seen before.