Danielle Kidnapped: A Novel of Survival in the Coming Ice Age Page 11

  He went to Joel’s body, removed his boots, and examined them. He threw the first one and it hit her in the hip. When he threw the second one it also hit her, she realized he was throwing them at her.

  “Those are going to have to do,” he said in a voice still laden with fear and anger.

  He grabbed Joel’s jacket and brought it back to her. “Wrap your baby in this,” he instructed.

  He held out the socks he’d taken off Joel’s body. “Put these on before you put the boots on.”

  The mask hid his expressions; only his voice and actions betrayed his mood.

  He handed her Eddie’s jacket after rifling the pockets. “Put this on. It’s gonna have to do.”

  There was a soft gasp from behind them and the man spun around with his rifle to confront the sound.

  Andrew was still alive and moaning where he lay in the snow.

  “Help me,” he begged. “I can’t move my arms or nothin’.”

  The bullet had broken his spine.

  The man skied to him and put the muzzle of his rifle to Andrew’s head.

  Danielle turned away. Despite the fact Andrew had come to take part in her and Whoops’s executions, she didn’t want to watch when his head was blown off. But after several seconds of silence she turned back. The man still had the rifle about three inches from Andrew’s head. But he seemed indecisive. Finally, he lowered it.

  “Help me,” Andrew repeated.

  The man looked back at Danielle and saw she had finished putting her clothes on.

  “Let’s go,” he said.

  “What about him?” she asked about Andrew.

  He didn’t answer; he just skied away.

  “Help me,” Andrew begged.

  Danielle walked to him.

  “Help me,” he pleaded.

  She looked back. The stranger and the dog had already reached the trees.

  “I can’t move, Danielle.”

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

  “What about Barry and the others?”

  “They’re dead.”

  “You’ve got to help me, please. Have pity on me.”

  An odd sympathy welled up in her. But she reminded herself that just moments before Andrew had just stood there and watched Barry shoot Anne in the back of the head. And he’d said nothing when Barry threw Whoops into the snow. And then…he wanted “his turn” with her before Barry executed her, too. Now, he was begging her to save him.

  She should hate him, but all she felt was pity. “There’s nothing I can do,” she said.

  “Go back to the ranch and get help,” he pleaded.

  She looked at her sister in her arms. Neither of them would survive if she went back there. “I’m sorry,” she repeated and she turned to follow the man in white.

  “Danielle, please…help me, Danielle…”

  She started toward the tree line.

  “…please help me…don’t leave me to die…I’m scared…” Andrew called after her as she crossed the field and disappeared into the woods, following the man in the ski mask.

  Δ Δ Δ

  She couldn’t keep up. It was difficult to walk through the trees, through the brush, and over fallen logs that were hidden in the snow, while wearing boots that were too big, and all the while having to carry and protect her sister. The boots alternately threatened to fill with snow and to get pulled from her feet.

  Meanwhile, the man and the dog maintained a pace that kept them well ahead and often out of sight, and all she had to go on was the trail they left behind. Each time she gave up hope of seeing him again, she’d round a tree and he’d be waiting. But, whenever she got close enough, she was sure he was glaring from behind his mask, and just as she’d reach him he’d abruptly push off on his skis and disappear again.

  But one time, he didn’t ski off and, when she finally reached him, he stared at her sister. Just as she asked, “Where are we?” he reached to take Whoops from her arms.

  “No!” she screamed and turned away putting herself between him and the baby.

  “Then keep up,” he shouted, “or I’m leaving you both here.”

  She turned back to face him and knew he was angry. She didn’t want to think about why he might have “saved” her, but she knew now she and her sister were at his mercy. She asked herself how salvation could so abruptly have morphed into a new nightmare.

  He skied away.

  She stood helplessly alone and watched him disappear. And once he was out of hearing range she said, “I’m just a piece of pussy for you guys to shoot each other over.” “But,” she added, “keep your filthy hands off my sister.”

  She looked around. If she knew where she was, she’d have gone off in another direction. But she was completely lost. And she couldn’t go back. There was nothing good in that field and death awaited her if she went back to the compound. For the moment she had no choice but to put herself and Whoops in this assassin’s hands and follow him as he led her deeper and deeper into the forest.

  Snow kept filling her boots and she stopped again and again to empty them. The socks, now soaking wet, chafed her feet raw.

  At one point, she saw him waiting up ahead, but instead of skiing further on, once again he waited. She clutched her sister to herself as she approached him.

  He held out another pair of socks. She took them and struggled to get them on while holding Whoops.

  He put his arms out to take Whoops.

  “Don’t,” Danielle warned and he lowered his arms.

  With the dry socks on, they forged on until…

  …they reached a road and he took off his skis.

  He waited for her to catch up.

  Whoops was crying, now.

  He stared at them. “Do something for the baby,” he insisted.

  “What do you mean?”

  “It’s crying. Do something!” he ordered.

  “She’s hungry!” Danielle shouted back at him.

  “Feed her.”

  “Feed her what?” she yelled back.

  “What’s she eat?”

  “Baby food…milk…” Danielle’s voice was rising and she held Whoops tighter and backed away. “I don’t know. There’s nothing out here for her to eat.” She ran her free hand through her blonde hair in exasperation. She wanted to start crying. But not in front of this…man.

  He abruptly swung his backpack off his shoulders. He took something out and proffered it to her. “This is all I’ve got.”

  It was jerky.

  She stared at it, looked at Whoops, then looked back at him incredulously.

  She thought for several more seconds then, suddenly she reached out and took it from him. She repositioned the baby and started tearing thin strips from the jerky. Whoops screamed in hunger. He saw how awkward it was and again reached to take the baby from her arms.

  “No,” Danielle yelled and recoiled away from him. She could tell he was angry. The mask was beginning to drive her crazy.

  She took the strips and put them in her mouth and, just as she did, he pushed her down into the snow.

  But she was on her feet in a flash and she backed away from him. “Why are you being so mean?” she yelled.

  “That’s for her,” he yelled back.

  She took the jerky out of her mouth. “She can’t eat it like this, you fucking idiot! What do you want me to do, shove it up her ass?”

  Defiantly, she put the jerky back in her mouth and chewed it and chewed it and chewed it as she stared at him. When it was pulverized, she brought the baby’s mouth to her own and, as if in a kiss, spit the chewed jerky into Whoops’s mouth. The baby swallowed it greedily.

  She tore off more, chewed it, and repeated the process. This went on for several minutes, on the side of the road, while the snowflakes that danced around them got thicker as if they, too, had come to gather to witness this spectacle along with the man. He watched, first with incredulity, then with fascination, until the jerky was gone.

  “That’s all I’ve got,”
he said. He didn’t sound angry, now. “Where do you live?”

  She paused a second. “Yakima.”

  “Yakima, Washington?” he asked.

  “Is there another one?”

  “What are you doing here?”

  “We were trying to make it to southern California.”

  “Who’s we?”

  She didn’t answer.

  She could see his eyes peering out of the eye-slits, his lips moving through the mouth-opening, but the mask still made him appear expressionless. He stared at Whoops again until she got uncomfortable. She began to understand: he wanted the baby.

  She backed away from him.

  “I’ve done all I can do for you,” he suddenly said. “You’re on your own, now.”

  He turned and nodded down the road. “That’s south. Get going. I don’t know if anyone will follow us. But sooner or later they’re going to discover those guys are missing. You can probably get a ride before they do. The next town south is Brookings. From there it’s about five miles to the California border.”

  “Where are you going?”

  The eyes stared out through the slits, but he didn’t answer. She knew he wouldn’t.

  Before she could say anything else, he turned and crossed the road. She was surprised that the dog stayed with her. The man didn’t seem concerned.

  She watched him put on his skis. Then, just as suddenly as he had appeared that morning, he was gone.

  The dog acted as if it didn’t know which way to go, but it finally sprinted across the road and followed him.

  “Thank you, and good riddance,” she said sarcastically to the man who was once again out of earshot.

  She wondered why, after he’d saved her, he’d been so mean. Why did he bring her to the road? There was something wrong with him; something hostile about him. She was vaguely afraid to be alone, yet she’d felt more afraid when she was with him. There were reasons to fear all the men out here. Thankfully, he was now gone.

  The road had been recently plowed by the Army, but more snow was coming down and the new accumulation was already two or three inches deep. She started walking. Now that she’d eaten, Whoops alternately looked up at her with her happy face and then looked all around at the snow-embraced scenery. She liked what she saw. It was new; it was beautiful.

  Danielle knew, unless they got a ride, she was walking to their deaths. She was still cold. She was hungry. They’d given her nothing to eat before taking her out to the field that morning. But why would they? she thought. Food was precious and she wasn’t even supposed to be alive now.

  Her feet were getting number. She had to walk.

  She figured it was about noon when she first heard vehicles. She turned and saw a caravan approaching. She wanted to run, in case they were from the compound. But she had to take her chances. She had to get a ride before nightfall. She raised her hand and waved as the caravan neared and, when she realized they weren’t even slowing down, she stepped closer to the shoulder and watched them whiz by.

  There must have been thirty cars, vans, and pickup trucks. And just as fast as they’d appeared, they were gone, leaving nothing behind but new tracks in the snow.

  A minute later she heard the sound of more vehicles. The second half of the caravan was coming from the north.

  Again she jumped and waved and tried to flag them down. Just one car was all she needed to stop. But they roared by just as the others had.

  No one was giving rides in the ice age.

  She sighed. Then she started walking again…stopping…walking. She wasn’t getting far.

  Two hours later she heard more vehicles. Again, she turned to face north. And again, she waved desperately as they passed; first the head of the caravan then, a minute later, the tail. And as suddenly as they had appeared, they, too, were gone.

  She couldn’t help it, she started to cry. Her fate and Whoops’s were becoming clear and she was scared. She walked several more hours until she realized the sun was setting. There were no sounds other than branches creaking and snow falling from them into the deserted forest. She knew there’d be no more traffic.

  She had to get off the road for the night. She had to find a way…a place…to keep warm. There was no way to light a fire. She didn’t even have matches.

  When she reached a small bridge, she left the road and went underneath it. She sat down and began to cry. She cried until her whole body was shaking. She couldn’t stop. She told Whoops, “I’m sorry.” The only other thing she could say was, “I love you. I’ll make you as comfortable as I can until the end.”

  Whoops cried with her: She was hungry again, she was getting colder, and from the odor, Danielle knew she had soiled and wet herself. Danielle had nothing to change her into.

  She knew they weren’t going to live through the night. They cried for about ten minutes when an animal loomed out of the darkness. She screamed, “Get away from me!” and her screaming scared Whoops and she cried even louder.

  Behind the animal something else emerged and took on a human shape. “Help me,” she pleaded. “Help me. Help us. I’ll do anything. Just don’t let us die.”

  He got closer. It was the man on skis. What did he want? He still wore his mask.

  “Eat this,” he said and he held something out.

  She took it with her right hand that was numbed by the cold. But what he handed her was warm. It was meat. It was cooked. She brought it to her mouth and began to eat ravenously and she cried harder.

  He held something else in his other hand.

  “This is for the baby. I chopped it,” he said.

  He took a pinch of it and held it to Whoops’s mouth.

  As a reflex Danielle turned her sister away from him, but he kept his hand out. She stared at it and tentatively turned back and he reached a little further until his offering touched Whoops’s lips. Danielle watched as Whoops ate what he fed her.

  “It’s chopped pretty fine,” he said from behind his mask. “She should do okay with it. She won’t choke if you feed her just a little at a time,” and, when Danielle had eaten the piece of meat he’d given her, he handed her the rest of the chopped meat for the baby. She continued to shake as she cried and fed her sister.

  He watched her feed Whoops until that meat was gone.

  He offered her a canteen. “It’s black coffee. It’s cold, but it’s okay.”

  He took out another canteen and poured something from it into the cup that covered it.

  “It’s water. It’s warm. The baby needs it.”

  He watched Danielle give the water to the baby.

  When they finished, he said, “Come on.”

  She tried to get up but couldn’t.

  “Give me the baby,” he said.

  “No!” she screamed. Whoops was the only reason she’d go on living, now. She wasn’t letting anyone else help her up.

  He stepped back and she started to get up but fell to her knees.

  He stepped forward and offered to take her hand, but she said, “I can do this,” and she clumsily struggled to her feet.

  “Follow me,” he said. It wasn’t an order and he sounded tired.

  She followed him back to the road. He checked once to make sure she was with him, then crossed to the other side. She followed. Whoops kept crying.

  They walked through the darkened woods. This time he carried his skis but still stayed ahead. Several times her feet got tangled in snow-covered branches and she fell to her knees, but she’d struggle to her feet and catch up. He kept a fast pace but, unlike the morning, he never got out of her sight. She didn’t know how long they walked when she smelled smoke. A little further ahead she could see a small fire flickering and she realized they were in a small clearing.

  He motioned for her to sit on a log close to, but upwind from, the fire. He took one of the jackets he’d taken from the bodies and put it over her shoulders as she clutched Whoops to her breasts. Then he fed more wood to the fire. Gradually, it grew.

  He ha
d more meat here. He fed some to the dog. He handed her some. Then he sat, peeled off his ski mask, and started to feed himself.

  She watched him. She could barely make out his features in the flickering light of the flames. He didn’t look anything like she expected. He had a thin gaunt face, though everyone was thin these days. And he had sad eyes, not the angry eyes she had expected. He was younger than she had imagined, though somewhat older than herself. His hair was an off-blonde and his features not unpleasant.

  She studied him, but he ignored her.

  She wanted to say something.

  “Where do you live?” she finally asked.

  He stopped eating, looked at her, then went back to eating.

  Of course he wouldn’t answer. People hid in the ice age.

  “You have a nice dog,” she said.

  He didn’t respond.

  “I said, you have a nice dog.”

  “It’s not mine.”

  “Whose is he?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “How can you not know?”

  “It’s just been following me for the last two days.”

  “Are you going to keep him?”

  He shook his head. “Too much upkeep.”

  “What are you going to do with him?”

  “Eventually? I’m going to eat it.”

  She almost choked on what she was eating and wondered if it was another dog.

  “What’s this?” she asked.

  “Squirrel and porcupine.”

  For a second, she wanted to retch, but she was hungry, so she kept eating.

  She looked around. She was lost, now. What would he do with her, now? What would she be willing to do to keep her sister alive? “What are you going to do with me?” she asked.

  “I was hoping you’d get a ride by now.”

  That wasn’t an answer to her question, but she didn’t push for an elaboration and neither of them spoke for a while.

  Finally he said, “We’ve got to get some sleep. I want you back on the road in the morning.

  “You’ll get a ride,” he added in a tone that vaguely implied that he felt the reason she hadn’t gotten one, yet, was her fault.

  He stood up and walked away from the fire.

  In the dim light of the fire she could see a burrow in the snow.