When he turned around, he held a rifle across his chest. The polished barrel reflected the firelight.
Will walked over and took it from him, a curiously animated expression on his face. He whistled in admiration and turned it over in his grasp. Aligning the sights, he aimed it across the room, then resumed his appreciative inspection.
“Bushmaster RealTree Camo Rifle. Twenty-inch barrel with flash suppressor. Nickel Acetate finish. 5.56mm/.223 caliber, semi-automatic, thirty-round magazine. Six hundred meter range. This is definitely not your grandfather’s hunting rifle,” he said. “Fine piece of equipment though. You could drop a bounding deer from halfway across the state with one of these bad boys. How’d you get a hold of these?”
Cavenaugh shrugged. “Borrowed them from a friend.”
Kelsey took the rifle from Will and appraised it, but didn’t appear nearly as comfortable doing so. It looked more like an assault rifle than anything used for hunting.
Gabriel crossed the room and peered down into the case. There were several stacked tiers inside, each of which, he could only assume, housed a rifle in its custom fitting.
“Why do we need these?” Maura asked. Of them all, she seemed the most wary.
“We already know there are mountain lions in this area,” Cavenaugh said.
“They’re as afraid of us as we are of them,” Maura said.
Gabriel turned and watched Jess as she perused the stacks of equipment. She moved around the clutter as though searching for something. When she caught him looking, she shook her head and mouthed the words “It’s not here.”
“Then consider it an unnecessary precaution,” Cavenaugh said. “Better to have it and not need it than to need it and not have it.”
Maura nodded her acquiescence, but didn’t appear relieved in the slightest. She just continued to stare at the rifle as though Kelsey were handling a venomous snake.
Understanding finally struck Gabriel. This wasn’t about mountain lions. Not at all. But until that very moment, all he had thought they might find in the forest were the remains of their loved ones. He had never considered the prospect that they might encounter whoever was responsible for their deaths.
***
Gabriel leaned against the kitchen cabinets beside the back door, dozing in and out. He was fully clothed beneath the blanket, and anything but comfortable. The warmth from the fire was fading fast and the bitter chill was seeping in through the walls and under the floorboards. Best not to stoke the flames to combat it just yet. If nothing else, the cold was keeping him from falling into a sound sleep, and right now he needed to remain sharp if he expected to hear anything other than the howl of the wind and the resultant creaking of the cabin around him.
He knew he should be getting as much rest as he possibly could in anticipation of the arduous day ahead, but this was something he needed to do. Whether or not Oscar returned, he at least had to try. That cat was now the only living link between his sister and him. Expecting a now-feral feline to lead them to the bodies was ridiculous, but Stephanie would have been heartbroken at the idea of her furry friend being abandoned in the wild. Maybe he would never learn what had happened to her, and would have to live with the guilt and the loss for the rest of his life. That would be his cross to bear, but at least if he found a way to take care of Oscar, he could justify to himself that he had done something. And perhaps through her cat, he could feel close to her again.
The rational part of him knew he was being absurd, but there were already enough regrets without adding one more. To leave her beloved cat at the mercy of the elements and predators would be to dishonor her memory and everything she had stood for. Stephanie had always been the most caring, most gentle—
There was a soft thump against the wall behind him.
Gabriel silently peeled off the blanket and rolled over onto his hands and knees.
The wind whistled along the eaves and rattled the glass in the window above the sink. He must have heard it blow the bag of trash against the siding. Hopefully it was still tethered to the nail, or all of this was for naught.
He rose to his feet, careful to place his tread lightly enough so as not to make the floorboards squeak, and took the hot dog he had set aside in a plastic baggie from the counter. Two stealthy steps and he was at the door, knob in hand. He turned it slowly, soundlessly, and drew the door inward.
Snowflakes swatted him in the face and something raced toward his feet. It was only one of the Styrofoam bowls, but that meant—
He whirled to his left. The yellow plastic ties were still bound to the nail, but the bottom of the trash bag had been ripped open. Its contents were scattered all over the ground. Bowls and trash had blown up against the building, while more garbage tumbled across the accumulation. This would never work now. He had thought for sure the bag would be strong enough to withstand the wind. Grabbing the useless tatter of white plastic, he inspected the bottom, then looked quickly back to the snow.
The wind hadn’t beaten the bag open against the cabin. Something with sharp claws had torn it open right along the seam.
There. To his right, at the very edge of the building, was a fuzzy orange face, eating out of a bowl pinned by a small paw. Oscar glanced up and Gabriel caught a flash of gold from his eyes.
Gabriel held perfectly still and the cat again resumed its meal of crusted oats.
Quietly, he eased out the door into the snow and removed the hot dog from the Ziploc. He split it in half and approached Oscar until the cat bristled and turned his attention from the bowl to the back door.
Gabriel froze. He expected Oscar to dash off for the safety of the forest at any second, but after a while, the cat stuffed his face back into his meal.
As slowly as he possibly could, Gabriel knelt in the accumulation, extended his arm, and held out the offering of processed meat.
Oscar appeared not to notice at first, but after a few eternal minutes, he raised his head and turned toward the smell. His face was scarred over his left eye and across his nose, and his right ear had been all but torn away. There were tangles and briars in his thick fur, and Lord only knew what crawled on his skin beneath. Cautiously, Oscar eased around the corner of the cabin and started in Gabriel’s direction.
The cold from the snow bit into his legs, but Gabriel knew if he so much as flinched, the cat would be gone.
Oscar approached a single step at a time, pausing and watching him between each, until in a streak of orange, the cat darted at him and nipped the hot dog out of his grasp. All Gabriel had felt was fur on his fingertips. Again, Oscar crouched at the far end of the wall, where he gnawed on his meal from the side with his back teeth.
Gabriel watched with a growing sense of disappointment. There was no way he was going to be able to grab the cat. Oscar had moved so fast he hadn’t even had time to think, let alone reach down and snatch the cat by the scruff of its neck.
He retracted his arm slowly, took the other half of the hot dog from his left hand, and held it out for the cat again.
Oscar had finished the first portion and now crouched on his belly, haunches flexed, prepared to pounce. He watched Gabriel closely for several more minutes before venturing out from behind the side of the building. Once he was again close enough, Oscar sprung at Gabriel’s hand and relieved him of the food. In a blur of orange, Oscar fled in the direction of the woods and vanished.
Gabriel stared into the darkness beneath the snow-covered pines for a long time before he finally stood and headed back into the cabin.
November 15th, 2010
Monday
Gabriel had barely fallen asleep when Cavenaugh’s alarm woke him. The crushing feeling of dread followed within seconds. Today would potentially be one of the worst days of his life, and as much as he hated to begin it, the sooner he did, the sooner it would be over.
