Mary was dreaming a disjointed scenario where her divorce client JimAnn Ponder was testifying that Walkingstick got kilt with his shoes on! She was about to tell JimAnn that she was wrong when a blast like a bomb rocked the deer blind. Jolted awake, she grabbed her pistol and looked around for Lily. The girl was wide awake too, sitting up in her sleeping bag.
“What was that?” she cried, her voice high and thready. “It sounded like a bomb!”
Wondering if another big tree had fallen victim to the snow, Mary crawled over to peer out one of the rifle slots. “Oh my God!” she whispered. “The cabin is on fire!”
Lily crawled over beside her. They peered out the rifle slot as flames soared up into the night sky, orange fingers of fire piercing a shroud of gray snow-mist. The tops of the trees started gyrating in a spasm of cracking ice and roaring flames. As they watched tears began to roll down Lily’s cheeks. “All my pictures were in there,” she cried. “Mom and Alenna. My whole life.”
Mary put an arm around her shoulder. “Thank God we weren’there.”
“Do you think the Snow Men did it?” she asked.
“I don’t think the little maple log we left burning did.”
“But why?” Lily’s voice cracked. “Why would they burn down a stupid cabin?”
It was a question similar to others Mary had heard many times before. Why did they kill my husband? Why did they steal my child? After years of listening to the heartbreak of anguished victims, she still hadn’t come up with a satisfactory response. “I don’t know, Lily. Your father would say some people are just mad-dog mean.”
Wrenching away from Mary, Lily stood up and grabbed her bow. “I’m going to kill them.”
“You can’t, Lily,” Mary said, immediately regretting that she’d quoted Jonathan. This girl launched into attack mode as fast as he did.
“Why not?”
“Because you only have a bow and arrow. They have guns.”
“Then give me your gun.”
“No.”
“But you’re supposed to protect me. That’s why Edoda made me promise to call you.”
“And that’s exactly what I’m doing.”
“How? By sitting here and watching our house burn down?”
“By keeping you away from men who apparently want to capture you. I imagine your grandfather’s probably put out a reward for you, just like your dad. To those guys, you’re a nice, fat paycheck, hiding in the snow.”
Her words brought the girl up short. Lily moved to a different rifle slot and continued to watch the cabin burn. As she did, Mary again pondered these skip chasers. If Fred Moon had put money out for Lily, she could understand these men hanging around, hoping to grab her. But why burn down a cabin? Why not build a warm fire, light the lights and keep watch until Lily sought shelter from the storm? Unless, of course, Jonathan was dead and Lily was the one remaining person they could get money for.
“So what’s our plan now?” Lily asked sarcastically. “We still walking back to Murphy?”
Feeling sick inside, Mary nodded. She didn’t know what else to do. For she and Lily to go up against men who just blew up a cabin was insanity. “With luck, we should get there late tomorrow. You’ll be safe and we can turn the sheriff on to these people.”
“But they’re still here! We can still save Edoda!”
“Lily, these men mean business, and I’m not willing to risk either of our lives. I’ll help your father when they deliver him to Oklahoma.”
“Fine,” snapped Lily. “Then let’s go right now. No point in wasting time.”
Knowing that more sleep was impossible, Mary agreed. She secured her sleeping bag to her frame as Lily strapped her bow and quiver across her chest. Carefully, they made their way down the ice-slicked rungs Jonathan had nailed to the tree. The wind was cold and blustery, carrying savage little bits of snow, mixed with flecks of ash. Unbelievable, thought Mary. First blizzards, now fires. Maybe tomorrow we’ll have floods and a plague of locusts.
“Do you remember the way to Unaka?” asked Lily when Mary reached the bottom of the ladder.
Mary pointed to her left. “Around the lake, up that steep ridge. After that, follow your blazes to the road.”
“Good. Then you’ll be okay.”
“What do you mean, I’ll be okay?”
“I mean you can make it back to town on your own. I’m going to find my father.” She gave Mary a cold, dismissive smile that was all Ruth Moon. “Thanks for your help. I really appreciate it.”
With a jaunty little wave, Lily ran towards the cabin, bow slung over her shoulder. Mary stood there, dumbfounded.
“She’s as crazy as Ruth Moon,” Mary finally whispered. “And way beyond my help.” Just get to Murphy, she told herself. Call Sheriff Ray and let him take over. You’ve fulfilled your promise to Jonathan—hell, you never promised Jonathan anything in the first place.
Fully intending to do just that, she strode down the path toward the lake. But twenty paces on, she stopped. As angry and used as she felt, she could not abandon the girl she once loved. Lily Walkingstick was a lethal combination of fear, rage and adolescent bravado. Somebody needed to save Lily from herself.
“Okay,” Mary whispered bitterly as she turned to follow the headstrong girl. “This is for you, Jonathan Walkingstick. And for you, Ruth Moon. For here on out, I owe you nothing.”
By the time Mary caught up her with her, Lily was standing behind a large tree, surveying the remnants of the cabin. It looked like someone had fired a missile at the place—nothing remained but a shell of charred logs crumpled in a circle of muddy slush.
“Not much left, is there?” Mary said, her eyes watering from the acrid stink lingering in the air.
“Everything I own is in this backpack,” the girl murmured, stunned.
“Then please, let’s get back to Murphy.” Mary tried once more, still hoping Lily might see reason. “The sooner I can get an APB put on these guys, the sooner we can find your dad.”
“No way.” She shook her head. “I can find him now. I know exactly where he is.”
“Where?”
Lily pointed to two sets of footprints going up the melted snow of the driveway that led to the main road. “Those tracks weren’t here before. The Snow Men must have broken open the gates on the park roads and driven up here. They probably parked near the front gate and sneaked up to the cabin.”
“And you think they’re still hanging around?”
Lily shrugged. “Like you said before, Mary. Why would they leave if they’re waiting for me?”
Mary’s heart sank. She’d hoped the cabin’s utter destruction might have changed Lily’s mind about things. Instead it had only strengthened her resolve. “Lily, it’s still you against two men with at least two guns.” Mary looked at the circle of scorched earth that surrounded what was left of the cabin. “With apparently no small knowledge of explosives.”
“I don’t care,” she replied. “They aren’t more than a mile away. And unless Edoda is dead, he’s still with them. I can’t come this close and not try to save him. You’d do the same thing, if it was your dad.”
Mary had to admit that was true, but she also knew this was crazy. But what could she do? Lily was too stubborn to change her mind and too big to pick up and drag to Murphy. The only thing she could think of was to go along, and try to keep the girl from getting herself killed.
“Okay,” Mary said. “Lead the way.”
Lily drew back, surprised.“You’re coming too?”
“I can’t let you go alone. I love your father too much to do that.”
“I thought you loved that Victor guy.”
“I love them both.”
Lily gave her a strange look. “Then follow me. I know a path we can take and stay hidden.”
Mary followed Lily into the dark trees that grew above the driveway, feeling as if she were clinging to a runaway horse. Please let Jonathan be alive and the Snowmen be gone, she prayed as she unzipped her parka to keep one hand on her Glock. Let this torched cabin be their parting shot as they take Jonathan to Oklahoma.
By the time they reached the end of the drive, it started to snow again, the flakes coming down furiously, big as quarters. Lily stopped and pointed at a wide yellow gate that stood unlocked, a chain dangling from one end.
“I locked that Friday, when Edoda and I came back from town,” she whispered. “They must have cut it and sneaked in.”
Keeping to the tree line, they walked west, looking for a van or a truck pulled to the side of the road. After twenty minutes, when they’d seen nothing but an empty, snowy road, they turned around and retraced their steps. They passed the open gate again, passed a faded PAINT CREEK CAMP sign, then, as the sky lightened slightly ahead of them, Lily grabbed Mary’s arm. Twenty yards away, a blanket of snow covered what looked like a small camper, pulled off at a wide spot in the road.
They ducked into the trees that bordered the road. “Let’s get closer,” whispered Lily. “And try to see what they’re doing.”
Mary allowed the girl to lead—she was almost as good as her father in the woods. Even limping she walked noiselessly, aware of every sound and scent around her. They crept through the trees until they were about forty feet away. No lights or noise came from inside the camper. Mary was trying to figure out if the Snowmen were awake or sleeping when Lily peeled off her pack and grabbed her bow and quiver.
Mary grabbed her arm. “What the hell are you doing?”
“I’m going to flatten one of their tires. Just like they did to our truck.”
“With an arrow?” Mary was horrified. The light was just a shade above dawn, and snow covered all but the tops of the tires. If Lily missed and hit the aluminum side of the thing, the men would wake up and fly out like hornets from a nest.
Lily pulled out one arrow. With a black shaft and a lethal triangular point, it didn’t look like anything Jonathan had ever made. “Edoda calls these Mankillers, in honor of some chief.”
“Wilma Mankiller,” said Mary. “A great chief in Oklahoma.”
“Yeah, well, that’s what they’re for. Man killing.”
“Lily, please don’t do this. You don’t know if your father’s even in there!”
“If he’s not in there, then he’s dead.” She looked at Mary, her eyes flat with hatred. “Don’t worry. I’ve got this.”
Before Mary could protest further, Lily was crawling through the laurel, bow in hand. Mary pulled the Glock from her holster and aimed at the door of the camper. If the girl missed and someone came barreling out with a gun, she could at least get the first shot off.
She waited, her gaze trained on the camper. As the Glock grew heavy in her hand, she saw a flash of movement, heard a soft thunk. Squinting at the camper, she saw the fletched end of a black arrow protruding from the front tire.
“Damn,” she whispered, amazed. “She’s good.”
She kept her gun trained on the camper, waiting for somebody to wake up. But the occupants had either not heard the arrow or had attributed it to snow, falling off the heavily laden trees. A few moments later, Lily returned.
“See?” She grinned as if she’d made an A on some test. “I told you.”
“Good job,” Mary admitted. “But why didn’t you flatten both their tires?”
Her smile turned bitter. “I’m saving my Mankillers for bigger game.”
Mary gave an inward shiver, picturing one of those arrows in the middle of someone’s chest. “Look,” she said, offering her plan for the third time.“We know where they are and that they aren’t going anywhere on that tire. We’ve got the whole day to hike back to town and get some real help.”
“No way am I leaving my dad now,” said Lily. “One way or the other, I’m going to find out what happened to him.”