Chapter 2
Gunner awoke in the back of his van to his friends’ obnoxious banter.
“Tell me Reese,” Zach baited, turning his eyes briefly from the road ahead of them, “would you still be wearing that tank top if Kimberly had not come?”
Kimberly, sitting in her boyfriend’s lap, tugged playfully at his shirt. As a woman who appreciated a guy with muscle, she felt qualified to defend his honor. “Of course,” she quipped back. “Reese doesn’t even own a shirt with sleeves.”
Never mind that Kimberly herself was dressed as barely legal as possible. Reese was the kind of meathead who took every opportunity to show off his work from the gym. The arrogant confidence that accompanied his size made the whole package frequent fodder for Zach’s jokes. And it was Zach’s more athletic, or as Reese like to call it, “smaller,” build that gave Reese ammunition to keep the joking going both ways.
“Zach, buddy,” he chimed in, “when you can bench press 315 pounds, then you can laugh at me.”
But he laughed anyway. That was the kind of relationship they had. They could laugh at each other and themselves. Today especially, they needed the distraction. Half the day had been spent travelling, and it was still another couple hours before they reached the turnoff to the campsite.
Highway 11 was even less exciting than Zach had remembered. It cut through the vast nothingness that was Aroostook County, Maine. There was no traffic except for the occasional logging truck. The place names on the map turned out to be nothing more than two or three houses breaking the monotony of the endless greenery. Nothing but trees, trees, and more trees. Zach was amazed Gunner’s van could get to this spot and back without running out of gas.
Reese, though, had plenty to keep him occupied. His hands enjoyed the chance to wander down Kimberly’s shirt and onto her breasts. He loved how they fit perfectly in his hands. There was not so much unnecessary flesh that his hands could not enjoy, yet not so little to leave him unsatiated. He could take his fill for the rest of the trip without boredom setting in.
She repaid him by reaching back and pulling his head forward into a kiss. They locked lips for what seemed like minutes while Zach feigned disgust. He and his girl, Jeri, would play that affectionately as well had she accompanied them. At Gunner’s request, he left her at home. Their friend didn’t think this was a trip for the girls, and didn’t want everyone distracted as Reese now was. Still, Zach found himself longing for her company. He peered briefly to the back wondering how much company their sleeping friend was going to be, but noticed he wasn’t doing much sleeping.
“I’m sorry,” Zach offered. “Did we wake you?”
His cover blown, Gunner sat up without saying a word. No one had to ask him what was on his mind, for they knew the answer was Greg. While they tried to keep it out of their minds, there was no escaping that his killer could still be in those woods. Reese half-heartedly tried to keep the tension away.
“I was telling Zach here your lousy AC doesn’t work. When are you ever going to fix it?”
“I’m not.” Gunner tried to shift his mind to the trees zipping by out his window. “I never use it.”
“Yeah, well some of us are fucking hot.”
“I’m sorry,” Kimberly chirped, soliciting a smirk from Zach. But with that, the van fell silent. The jocular attitudes and glib comments melted away into awkward silence. They rode along that way, staring awkwardly at the road and the endless sea of trees. With no landmarks to gauge progress, the afternoon continued to drag on. Theirs was a scene desperate for a break: a pond, a river, or even a mountain. But it was something even more unusual that would break the monotony.
They passed an old man hiking on the side of the road with a full pack on his back. Zach decided to pull over.
“What are you doing,” Gunner asked him.
“Yeah,” Reese roared. “That could be our killer!”
Gunner turned to get a look at the man approaching. He was old, rather frail, and moved slowly. Each step seemed to pain him greatly. He wore a faded flannel shirt. His hair and beard were long and scraggly, though nearly white. Though he bore the faintest of semblances, Gunner couldn’t imagine this being the same man who killed his brother.
Zach smirked to his comrades. “This could be fun.”
Kimberly, longing for some sort of excitement, agreed with Zach. “If we leave him out here, he could be dead before someone else comes by.”
Reese shot them both a doubtful eye. “He could die where we’re going.” He motioned back to Gunner for an ally. Before the silent one could weigh in, the old man leaned into Reese’s open window.
“Want a ride,” Zach offered.
The old man responded with an old man cough; the kind that serves no purpose but to announce his old man infirmities. Gunner slid open his door. He took the man’s pack and tossed it over the seat into the way back with the rest of their gear, then slid over to give him a seat.
“Thank you,” the man finally offered. “Name’s Raymond.”
Kimberly turned to the back with some interest. “What are you doing out here?” She seized on the chance for something new, something fresh, something to break the staleness of this trip.
Raymond was all too happy to oblige her curiosity. “I was a lumberjack out these ways for more than forty years. Didn’t think I would miss it one bit when I retired, but Lewiston is a lot different from these parts. People are a lot busier than I am. Everyone has somewhere to go or something to do except for me. I found I missed the fresh air and the stillness after all. I’m out here to see the old timberlands one last time.” He looked from face to face, studying his hosts. “You all don’t look like lumberjacks to me. Are you headed to Fort Kent?”
“Naw, we’re going camping,” Zach shouted back. “There’s an abandoned logging camp we’ve been using since high school.”
The old man’s face grew stern, not that the others could see much beneath the beard, but something definitely troubled him.
“I know about that camp,” he said. “There’s nothing but danger there.”
Reese leaned back to get a look at the old man. “What do you know about that camp?”
Raymond leaned forward to match his gaze. “As I said, I was a lumberjack in these parts for forty years. Believe me when I tell you it’s one of the most dangerous jobs in the world. Not a season went by we didn’t see at least one man maimed or killed. I’ve seen guys crushed when the trees don’t always come down where you expect them. I’ve seen guys maim themselves with their own chainsaws. I saw one guy cut his leg clean off one time. There were guys struck down by lightning. I even saw one guy get mauled by a bear. Even the rivers claimed more than one life.”
Reese turned forward once again and dropped his head against the headrest. “Now I know you’re full of it, old man. There’s no river out there.”
Raymond just shook his head. “Then we’re not talking about the same camp. Rivers run all through these parts. The camps are built along the banks for the fresh water.”
With Zach finally spying the turn, it wouldn’t be long before they could compare stories. Still, they had lost most of the light from the day by the time they reached their spot. When Zach pulled the van into the turn-off, Raymond questioned him.
“Why are you stopping here?”
Zach put the van in park and turned off the engine. “This is our camp.”
“But the logging camp is a couple more miles up the road.” The gang looked to each other in disbelief. “There are a couple tiny bunkhouses, even a latrine. Haven’t you ever gone up there?”
Kimberly chuckled, “We found a shed some ways in. We never thought there was anything else to see.”
Everyone piled out of the van and grabbed their gear from the back. Gunner stared nervously off in the direction of the campsite. He had returned hoping to retrieve Greg’s body. With only a couple hundred more feet to g
o, he almost feared now revisiting that scene from his nightmares.
Zach sensed his trepidation and placed a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “If we’re lucky, he could be there waiting for us. Then we could take him and go. We wouldn’t have to spend the night.”
Gunner sighed. As wonderful as that sounded, he knew they couldn’t be that lucky. Even if they were, it was too late in the day to make the return trip. The nearest gas station would be closed long before they reached it. And given the choice, he’d rather sleep comfortably in his tent, than crammed in the van with his friends.
He took a deep breath and made the first step through the brush. Though a month had passed since he last saw these woods, little had changed with the scenery. He hoped it was a sign the body remained where he last saw it. But as they emerged from the brush and into the clearing, Gunner found his hopes would not be realized
Sure enough, by the old fire ring, Greg’s body was nowhere to be seen. Even more depressing, his original campsite had been torn to shreds. The tent was a barely recognizable mess of nylon. What was left of their clothing and gear was strewn everywhere. No telling if the killer had ransacked everything, or if an animal had. Still it was a strong punch in the gut to see the desecration.