Fiends. Part 37

*Get up,' he said.

Kim struggled to her feet. She sniffed and wiped her eyes. She lifted the front of her torn T-shirt, covering her right breast and holding the fabric to her shoulder.

*What's your name?' the man asked.

Kim straightened her back. *f.u.c.k you,' she said.

A corner of his mouth curled up. *Look around.'

She turned slowly and found that she stood in a clearing surrounded by heavy timber. There was no sign of a road, though she suspected they couldn't be far from one. The car couldn't have traveled any great distance through the underbrush and trees. She faced the Butcher. *Yeah?'

*Do you know where you are?'

*Got a pretty good guess.'

*You're a tough little thing, aren't you?'

*What've I got to lose?'

*Not a thing, b.i.t.c.h. Look to your right. There's a trail sign.'

She looked. She spotted a small wooden sign on a post at the edge of the clearing.

*Stick to the trail,' he said. *You'll make better time.'

*What are you talking about?'

*You've got a five-minute headstart.' He raised an arm close to his face. With the other hand, he pushed a b.u.t.ton to light the numbers on his wrist watch. *Go.'

*What is this?'

*The hunt. And your time is running.'

Kim swung around and dashed away from the man. She didn't head toward the trail sign. Instead, she ran for the end of the clearing. This was the way the car had come. She might reach a road.

He's not going to let me get away, she thought. This is just part of it. A G.o.dd.a.m.n game. I'm not going to get out of here alive. That's what he thinks.

I haven't got a chance.

Oh yes I do, oh yes I do.

She dodged a bush, raced through the gap between two trees, and shortened her strides when she met a downslope.

Car couldn't have come this way, she realized. The b.a.s.t.a.r.d must've turned it around before he stopped. Knew I'd try this.

I'm running away from the road.

She wondered how much time had pa.s.sed. Her five minutes couldn't be up yet.

He won't give me five, she thought. He's probably already after me.

But she couldn't hear anything back there. She heard only her huffing breath, her heartbeat, her shoes crunching pine needles and mashing cones and snapping twigs.

I'm making too much noise.

Then a foot slipped out from under her. She saw her leg fly up. Saw the treetops. Slammed the ground and slid on her back, forest debris raking her shirt up, sc.r.a.ping her skin. When the skid stopped, she lay sprawled and didn't move except to suck air into her lungs.

I can't run from him, Kim told herself. He'll catch me easy. Gotta sneak. Gotta hide.

Sitting up, she peered down the slope. It wasn't heavily wooded. The dense trees were off to the sides. She stood. She glanced toward the top. No sign of him yet. But time had to be running out.

In a low crouch, she traversed the slope. Soon, she left the moonlight behind. The dark of the forest felt wonderful - a sheltering blanket of night. She walked slowly, trying not to make a sound as she stepped around the trunks of spruce and fir trees, ducked under drooping branches.

The place smelled like Christmas.

Play it right, she told herself, and maybe you'll see another Christmas.

How good is this guy? she wondered. Is he good enough to track me through all this in the dark?

He wouldn't have let me go if he wasn't sure he'd find me.

There must be a way. I just have to be smarter than him.

He's after me by now, she thought. Even if he did wait the whole five minutes.

Kim stepped behind a tree, turned around, and scanned the woods. Except for a few milky flecks of moonlight, the area was black and shades of gray. She saw the faint shapes of nearby trees and saplings. Nothing seemed to move.

You won't spot him till he's right on top of you, she realized, recalling his dark clothes and makeup.

She looked down at herself. Her legs were dim smears, her shorts dark, but her T-shirt almost seemed to glow. Muttering a curse, she pulled it off. She tucked it into the front of her shorts, so it hung from her waist. That was better. She was tanned except for her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, and they weren't nearly as white as the shirt.

Turning around, Kim made her way toward a deadfall. The roots of the old tree formed a clump nearly as high as her head. Bushes and vines had grown around the trunk. She considered climbing over the dead tree, but decided to bypa.s.s it, instead.

As she neared the mound of dirt-clogged roots, she noticed a s.p.a.ce between the trunk and the ground. Kneeling, she peered into the opening. It was exposed, but she would be out of sight if she squirmed to where a thick nest of bushes grew in front of the trunk.

The idea of being trapped beneath the dead tree didn't appeal to her. Probably a host of nasty creatures under there - ants, spiders, termites, slugs. They would crawl on her.

Besides, she told herself, if it looks like a good hiding place to me, it'll look like one to him. If he comes this way, he'll check it out. And he'll have me.

Forget it.

She hurried around the root cl.u.s.ter and headed to the right of the deadfall. With the barrier at her back, she broke into a run and didn't bother moving from tree to tree for concealment. She dashed as fast as she could, staying clear of trees, dodging occasional cl.u.s.ters of rock, circling patches of underbrush. At last, winded and aching, she ducked behind a trunk. She bent over and held her sweaty knees and gasped for air.

That little burst of speed, she thought, ought to put some ground between us. He can't run all-out, not if he's tracking me.

How can he track someone in the dark? she wondered. It wouldn't be easy, even in daylight, to follow her signs. What does he look for, anyway? Broken twigs?

Kim pulled the T-shirt from her waist band and mopped her wet face, her dripping sides, her neck and chest and belly. As she tucked the shirt into her shorts again, she wondered if the Butcher might have a night-vision device. Maybe an infra-red scope, or something.

That would explain a lot.

He seemed so sure he'd find me.

Maybe took it out of his car while he was giving me the headstart.

How can I hide from something like that?

They pick up body heat? she wondered.

What if I bury myself?

That idea seemed just as bad as hiding under the deadfall.

Sighing, Kim leaned back against the tree. Its bark felt stiff and scratchy. A quiet scurrying sound made her flinch. But it came from above. Probably a squirrel up there, she thought.

What about climbing a tree?

Even if the Butcher figured out that she had gone up a tree to hide, there were thousands. She could climb high enough to be invisible from the ground. The limbs and foliage might even offer some protection from a night scope, if he had such a thing.

If he does find me, Kim thought, he'll have a d.a.m.n tough time getting to me.

He could probably shoot me out of it. That won't be easy if I'm high enough. And he might be afraid of the noise. The sound of gunfire would carry a long distance. Somebody might hear it.

Besides, I'd rather be shot than taken alive. Quick and clean.

If he doesn't shoot me down, his only other choice is to go up after me. That'll make him vulnerable.

*All right!' Kim whispered. *Let's make it even tougher.'

She stepped out from under the tree. Crouching, she studied the ground. Here and there, the faint gray shapes of rocks jutted through the mat of pine needles. She gathered several, choosing those that were large enough to fill her hand - large enough to do some real damage. When she had six, she spread her shirt on the ground. She piled them onto the shirt, brought up its corners, and knotted it to form a makeshift sack.

Swinging the load at her side, Kim wandered through the trees until she found a stand of five that were grouped very closely together. Their branches met and intertwined, forming a dark ma.s.s.

Perfect.

She hurried to the center tree, saw that it had no handholds within easy reach, and went to the tree beside it. The lowest limb of this one was level with Kim's face. After the first limb, it looked as if the going would be easy.

The shirt full of rocks presented a problem. Kim thought about it for a while. Then, she opened the knot and retied it so that the untorn sleeve was free. She pushed her left hand through the neck hole and out the short sleeve, then slid the bundle up her arm. With the weight of the rocks tugging at her shoulder, she swung the load out of the way against the side of her back.

She shinnied up the trunk, struggled onto the limb, stood, and began climbing carefully from branch to branch. It wasn't as easy as she had supposed. Soon, her heart was slamming and she had to fight for air. Stopping to rest, she leaned away from the trunk and peered down. She couldn't see the ground - just a tangle of lower branches.

I'm pretty high, she thought.

d.a.m.n high. Jesus.

Her throat tightened. Her stomach fluttered. Her legs began to tremble. She turned suddenly and hugged the tree. I'm safe up here, she told herself. I'm not going to fall. She reminded herself of her days on the high school gymnastics team. That wasn't so long ago, she thought. This is no tougher than the uneven parallels. I've stayed in pretty good shape.

She still had to cling to the tree for a while before she found the nerve to relax her hold.

Just a little bit higher. Don't look down, and you'll be okay.

She got her knee onto the next branch, crawled up, stood on it, swung her foot around the trunk to another, pushed herself higher, and soon the process of climbing occupied all her thoughts, leaving no room for fears of falling.

When her movements began to sway the upper reaches of the tree, Kim knew she was high enough. She straddled a branch, scooted forward until she was tight against the trunk, and wrapped her legs around it.

For a long time, she stayed that way. Then, the rocks began to bother her. The sleeve of the T-shirt felt like a hand on her shoulder, trying to drag her backward. Rough edges of rock pushed against her skin through the fabric.

Easing away from the trunk but still keeping it scissored between her legs, she swung the bag onto her lap. She draped it like saddlebags over a branch just overhead and to the right.

Relieved of the burden, she inched forward again and embraced the tree.

Kim dreamed that she was falling, flinched awake, found herself slumping sideways, and clutched the trunk. Cheek pressed to the bark, she saw that morning had come. Dust motes floated in golden rays slanting down through the foliage. Out beyond the branches, she saw the bright green of nearby trees. Tilting her head back, she saw patches of blue, cloudless sky. She heard birds singing, a soft breeze whispering through the pine needles.

My Christ, she thought, I made it through the night.

She'd even, somehow, drifted off to sleep some time before dawn.

She felt numb from the waist down. Hanging onto an upper branch, she stood and held herself steady. Sensation returned to her legs and groin and rump, making them p.r.i.c.kle with pins and needles. When they felt normal again, she removed her shorts, climbed to a lower branch and urinated. Returning to her perch, she put her shorts back on. She sat down, one arm around the trunk, and let her legs dangle.

Now what? she wondered.

Obviously, she had eluded the Butcher. She wondered if he'd pa.s.sed this way in the night and kept on going. Maybe he'd never even come close.

Maybe he'd given up, finally, and gone away.

That's wishful thinking, Kim warned herself. He won't give up. Not this easily. A, he wants me. B, I can identify him. He isn't going to let me waltz out of here.

On the other hand, he would've found me by now if he'd actually been able to follow my signs.

Maybe he did, she thought. Maybe right now he's taking a snooze under the tree.

No. If he knew I was up here, he would've tried to take me.

I lost the b.a.s.t.a.r.d.

The trick, now, is to find my way back to civilization without running into him.

Trying it in daylight seemed foolhardy.

Waiting for nightfall was torture. There was no comfortable way to sit. Kim changed positions frequently, mostly sitting, sometimes standing, occasionally hanging by her hands from higher branches to stretch and take the weight off her legs.

Hunger gnawed at her, but thirst was far worse. She ached for a drink of water.

In spite of the shade provided by the upper areas of the tree, the heat of the day was brutal. Sweat dribbled down her face, stinging her eyes. It streamed down her body, tickling and making her squirm. Her skin felt slick and greasy. Her shorts felt as if they were pasted on.

For all the wetness on her skin, her mouth had none. As the day dragged on, her lips became rough and cracked. Her teeth felt like blocks of gritty stone. Her tongue seemed to be swelling, her throat closing so she had difficulty when she tried to swallow.

At times, she wondered if she could risk waiting for dark. Her strength seemed to be seeping away with the sweat pouring out of her skin. Spells of dizziness came and went. If I don't climb down pretty soon, she thought, I'm going to fall. But she held on.