The Life and Deaths of Crispin Lacey by Barbara Bretana - HTML preview

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Chapter 33

I stopped early to make camp in a small meadow deep in the woods. I had not seen a marked trail or Jeep road, saw no evidence of anyone camping, coming or going through the area. No fire ring, no tracks of horse, ATV, or motor-bikes. We were totally alone.

I let Ballycor loose, knowing that he wouldn’t wander off, especially after I poured a quart of whole oats on the grass. He lipped them up delicately and when he’d cleaned every last oat up, he grazed on the thin, wispy grass.

I wanted to set up the tent, go look for a creek or spring but I felt too ill to do more than sink onto my sleeping bag and saddle. I had dropped it to the ground, not caring that it would bend the fenders and get the wool skirts damp.

My stomach hurt too much to even think about food, although I wasn’t sure if I felt bad because I was hungry. I was hot yet shivering with strong chills that made my entire body shake. And ache. My belly cramped, my butt was sore from riding and from straining to go so many times earlier. I felt as if I needed to poop but nothing came out, not even when I coughed at the dryness of my throat. The last time I had coughed, I had nearly messed my jeans. I didn’t have a clean pair to change into, either.

My head pounded. It felt light, as if it would fall off my neck and float away. I moaned. All I wanted to do was burrow into my sleeping bag, and sleep until it all went away. I did just that and my sleep was peppered with bad dreams and restless tossing. I fought the sleeping bag and woke only to fall back and go through it again. Ballycor came over to me and pushed me with his nose. I thought it was a monster and flailed at him, but he didn’t get mad at me. I was so cold that my teeth chattered and made my lips dry, crack and bleed.

Sometime during the night, I woke up as something huge sank down next to me and I reached over to feel the coarse hair of a horse’s mane. The stallion had dropped down next to me and the heat from his body slowly warmed me enough so that I could fall back into a deeper rest.

In the morning, I woke and could barely move. I had no strength left. Even as I tried to lift my arms and raise my body, I shook and collapsed back on the sleeping bag. Off on the tree line, I saw Ballycor standing hip-shot, dozing in the bright sunlight.

My eyes watered. The sun was too bright for dawn, but I couldn't see the position of it because of the trees. The shadows left were short and falling directly behind; close to midday, then.

My brain said that was bad; that I had slept way past when I should have. The part of me that knew it was wrong wasn't as strong as the confused part. In my head, I knew I was fevered, even hallucinating.

I raised my head and located the saddlebags carrying my supplies. Inside were my last few bottles of water. I desperately wanted one, yet I couldn't force myself to get up. My limp legs refused to carry me or to move at all.

I clawed my way free of the sleeping bag and crawled toward the water. Half way there, I forget why I was crawling. I stopped. Resting my heavy head on my arm, I closed my eyes for a second. Just a few minutes to rest.

It was dark when I opened them. Pitch-black. Cold. I didn't know where I was or what I was doing there. It must be cold because I was shivering so hard that my teeth cracked in the still air. The air around me shimmered like heat mirages. Indians in decorated deer hides stood by an old oak tree, barely discernible in the darkness. I only saw them because there was an eerie green glow around them. They didn't move, just stood there, whispering like a breeze blowing through the crown of leaves.

"Crispin?" I whispered. "Are you here? I think I'm sick. I need help."

He didn't answer me. In truth, my mouth felt so dry that I wasn't sure if I'd really spoken or imagined it.

*****

Eachann and Jake dropped the tracker off when the trail disappeared into the woods, over the downed fence. He trotted off into the trees, out of sight within seconds as the undergrowth was so thick. Returning in a few minutes, he wore a dark frown on his face.

“What?” Matt asked. His heart pounded. Sanderson pointed to the ground at the distinct and deep hoof-prints that he had been following since the farm. Even the two police people could tell the difference.

“Someone on horseback is tracking him,” he said flatly. “On a big horse with a big stride. Shod, carrying a big man. He stepped off here to check the boy’s tracks. He’s wearing heeled boots. Cowboy boots.”

“Neige,” Matt said.

“Without ATVs or horses, he’ll catch up with the boy before I can. We’re still six or seven hours behind the man, more for the boy. What kind of coverage can you scare up?”

“Helicopter, drones, mounted and ATVs. SAR out of Quantico and the Marine Base,” the detective stated. He pulled out his cell phone. “I can have state police here in a half hour. There’s a SAR facility not ten miles from here along with the Forest Ranger station.”

“Will this Deputy harm the boy? His own son?”

Matt’s eyes glittered. “From the info I received, I doubt that his kid’s murder would bother him, not for 150 million bucks. Not if he was willing to pimp out his own wife and kid. Rumor has it he beat the wife and child, but because he was Law Enforcement, no one followed up.”

Matt went to call his Commander, but he did not find his cell. After looking in the car, his pockets and their luggage, he thought maybe he had left it behind in the motel room but when Jake called the hotel, they had not found it. Jake then gave his cell phone to the detective who relayed the message to his Captain in the Precinct. He in turn, notified the Maryland State Police, the FBI office out of Bethesda and the Marine detachment at Quantico. They volunteered to help search along with cadets from the Naval Academy.

Within 15 minutes, a covey of State police cars was parked along the shoulder of the highway, lights flashing so brightly from the dozens of vehicles that the dusk became day. One of the State Troopers looked familiar and Eachann recognized the name as that of the trooper who had spotted Cris just before he’d entered the convenience store in Unadilla. Trooper Delaney. He nodded to Matt.

As the SAR team arrived, the agents liaised with Sanderson and he helped the team set up large tents which housed the Command Center for both SAR and the Federal Agents.

The helicopter arrived two hours after the first cell phone call, landing on the median in a flurry of dust and bone-dry wind. Trash blew at their feet and bent the blades of grass over. The area quieted significantly as the rotors stopped and the turbine engines quit.

The state cops re-routed traffic for a mile in either direction so that they had the whole highway to themselves. The mounted patrol arrived in three trailers. One belonged to the D.C. Mounted Honor Guard and the other two were City Police. They had brought an extra horse for Sanderson.

Unfortunately, it was too dark by the time everyone had arrived and set up. Although Eachann wanted to rush into the woods, he was told that it was not safe for horse or rider until daybreak. Sanderson did not want to use the ATVs as they could be heard for miles and would warn whoever was hunting Cris that the authorities were on his tail. It might hasten the father to act immediately and run.

“He won’t travel at night?” the detective asked but it was one of the SAR people who answered. Matt looked to see if the women from New York was there and she was, SAR being used all over the US. Jane gave Eachann and Jake a smile and a nod.

“No,” the SAR leader said. “If he does, he risks a broken leg if the horse steps wrong or gets hung up in a dead-fall. The rider could lose an eye or be knocked off by an unseen tree limb. He could run into a barbed wire fence or fall down a ravine or step off a cliff. No, he’ll camp for the night and start as soon as the sun comes up.”

“He’s still several hours behind the boy,” Sanderson added. He left the detective and his driver at the tent.

“Sarge, where are we staying the night? Doesn’t look like there’s room for us,” Jake questioned. “I checked on the computer and there’s a small town just a few miles down the highway and off an exit. We can find you another cell phone and it has a 4-star steak house and a motel with a pool. Town’s about four thousand people so it’ll have some decent places to eat, I hope.”

“This motel has any vacancies?”

“Yeah. I booked two rooms. The last two. Seems like the Feebs have taken over.”

“The fabulously incompetent,” Eachann muttered. “Let’s hope that they don’t make this a cluster…” He did not finish the term.

“Sarge, will they need a bus here?” Jake nodded at the crowd of Law Enforcement. “If the father finds him first, the kid might need Emergency medical help.”

“If Neige finds him first, the kid will be dead shortly after,” the detective growled as he climbed back into the car. “But, most of the SAR people have advanced medical training.”

Jake hesitated and then slid into the driver’s seat, headed down the closed highway for the exit to the small town of Janesville.

*****

Tempe was pushing the horse through the dark but after the third time that the gelding stumbled and nearly went to its knees, the Deputy pulled up.

Dismounting, he led the horse until he found a small clearing just off the deer trail that he had been following. He had no idea if Cris had stayed on the path or had left it. He couldn’t see well enough to track in the dark. Nor could the horse see well enough to walk safely.

There was a small stream near the clearing and the gelding drank gratefully. He let the horse drink its fill before returning to the small meadow. There, he unsaddled and picketed the horse on a high-line, allowing the horse to graze and lie down without fear of tangling in the lead rope. He ignored the Forest Service rule of not tying off to tree trunks. Which killed the trees as the rope scarred the bark.

Tempe had a small fire going in minutes, more for the comfort of the flames than any other reason. He had no coffee grinds, tea bags or food that he could cook on the fire–just water and jerky. Both provided a satisfactory meal that could sustain him for weeks should it be necessary. He could always hunt–there were rabbits, squirrels and turkey all around him in abundance. Fish in the larger creeks and catfish in the rivers. He would not go hungry.

The two-man tent went up in less than a minute with the enclosed thin poles that formed the ribs of the dome tent. Laying the sleeping bag down, he covered up with the poncho off the back of the saddle and before the horse could walk from one end of the line to the other, he was asleep.