Chapter Forty-Two
I warmed up my feet and Leon was amazed as the steam rose off them in visible clouds, drying both my socks and my boots. He had me do the same to his but in his case, I had to remove them so I didn’t burn him.
“I’m sorry about the other night,” he offered when he was sure we’d paddled far enough from the cabin not to be overheard and to outrun the pursuit. “I’m not afraid of you, Lakan. How could I be? You saved my life when I was seconds from being dead. What scared me was just the residual memories of ghost tales my grandmother frightened us with when we were kids. About skinwalkers and the Wendigo and all that other folklore.”
“Wendigo, isn’t that the Indian spirit that eats its victim and then that becomes the next creature?”
He nodded. “It’s very real in mid-western and eastern Indian culture.”
“As real as the chupabaca and Moth-man,” I sneered but he looked at me sadly.
“You’re real, Lakan.”
I shut up and watched as we glided down the river towards what he said was a small outpost that sold some food, ice and fuel to the hunters that came through the area. They had a dock where we could tie up but there wouldn’t be a vehicle waiting for us like the other hunters who came through. The early moon hit the river’s surface and made silver highlights that twisted our eyes and painted everything in white frost.
The river still wound its way between a narrow gorge but for the most part, it was passive, its current no more than two miles per hour. The rapids, he told me were downstream after the store, where the river met another in a curve between two ridges and was funneled through the narrow gap. It took only a few seconds to pass but it was so rough that no canoe had survived it. We would have to portage around a narrow footpath cut through just for that purpose. Or abandon the canoe and retreat back to the woods to climb over the ridge and lose a day.
Leon didn’t know this section of the mountains. He did know that the people here were suspicious of strangers, clannish and not afraid to make someone disappear. Fugitives had spent years hiding from the law and some were never caught. There were snake cults operating in these hollows, moonshiners and marijuana growers. All of them would cut our throats in an instant if we rubbed them the wrong way.
We pulled up to the dock and used one of the ropes to tie the canoe. Leon stepped out first, sat on the edge of the weathered boards to pull on his dry socks and boots.
“You got any money?” I asked and he nodded.
“I grabbed my wallet and emergency cash. Hid my credit cards and ID back in the tunnels.”
“Let’s get some food. I’m starving.” My belly growled in agreement but that wasn’t the worst part about being hungry. When my reserves were low, I wasn’t capable of performing some of my…tricks. I followed him up the dock, gray, weathered and made of cypress logs which were odd here in the mountains of Georgia. It must have cost a fortune to trailer them up here.
The store was surprising in the moonlight. It was a log cabin of honey-colored pine, a double-wide sitting on a pretty curve of the river with a backdrop of pines and dogwood. Whoever had driven the house in and set it up had cut down only the bare minimum of trees to do so. It looked as if it had grown here. The front was all glass doors and windows with the usual steel bear bars. A huge porch ran around all four sides and held tables and chairs made of pine as well. An equally huge river-stone fireplace and chimney bisected the middle of the building. My nose caught the whiff of cooking meat and my feet hurried towards it.
“Damn,” Leon admired. “Don’t know how she does it but she’s never wrong.”
“She? What are you talking about?” I asked, not missing a step.
“The cook inside. She knows when a camper’s coming and always has food cooking when you get here. Even this late at night.” The moon was just coming up overhead.
He pushed the door open and we entered the interior. The place was spotless and spacious yet it held everything a camper might need or could want. A long pine counter divided the room into merchandise and a dining area. I saw a girl standing at a flaming grill flipping hamburgers. She had a kerchief tied around her head and an apron tied in a bow at her waist. She was tall and slender, the tips of her hair were light brown.
“Have a seat,” she said without turning. “These will be done in a minute.”
We sat at a small table with a plastic green gingham tablecloth. Already set were silverware, ketchup, mustard and pepper on the table. An older man in worn jeans and flannel shirt came out of the back. He had a lined face that had seen the years and the weather, blue eyes so light that they appeared crystal and a faint smile. His hair was thick, full and totally iron gray not white.
“Coffee with cream and two sugars,” he said and put down in front of me a huge mug filled with hot liquid. “Coffee black, one sugar.” For Leon.
She turned around and I froze. Her eyes were the same ice blue as the old man and the hair under the kerchief was nearly white blonde but her smile was Rachel’s and her face could have been an exact copy.
“Your name - it isn’t Rachel, is it?” I gasped. My heart pounded in my chest, my hands were sweaty and I felt as if the whole world balanced on the edge waiting for her answer.
“Maiara, it means sage.” She cocked her head. “Your burgers are ready. You have time to eat them, it won’t be until dawn for another three hours. They’ll find this place by six.”
“You know about them?”
She cocked an eyebrow. “I knew you were coming and that you like hamburgers and coffee. I just didn’t know your name. What’s your name, boy?” She had the most delightful drawl.
“Lakan, Lake. Strongbow. This is Leon DeCarlos,” I said not caring that she knew our real names. She would have known anything else for a lie, anyway.
“Are you Native American?” I asked holding the burger in my hand. I wanted to drop it and hold hers.
“Scotch, Welsh, and Cherokee. Fae,” she grinned and took the burger out of my grip. She placed it on the plate and wiped the grease off my mouth. “Eat up, Laky. We have a long road ahead of us.”
“Us? What’s Fae?”
“The Faery Folk. You think I’m going to let you go alone now that I’ve found you? Dad, you have everything ready?”
Her father nodded to the pile by the door, three new backpacks, sleeping bags, ground sheets, tents, coats, and boots. “Dad has replaced what you left with, better gear, newer things. Food, self-striking matches, clothes, compass, satellite phones that are encrypted. A small tablet laptop. Money and maps.”
She kissed her father and slipped the pack on over an expensive outdoor coat that was waterproof, insulated and rip-stop.
“You’re going with us?” Leon asked in disbelief. He looked at the father. “You’re going to let her go off with two strangers she just met?”
“I stopped telling Mairy what to do when she turned 12,” he shrugged. “She knows what she knows and she’s never wrong.” He shook my hand and his grip was hard. “You take care of her, Lakan Strongbow.”
I finished my food in shock while she went through our bags, taking out what she wanted to keep and repacking it into the new ones.
She kept out a pair of long johns, washed duck trousers and flannel shirt, wool socks for both of us and told me to change in the back room while she finished her arrangements. If we wanted showers, we could use the ones in the back of the cabin that was set aside for overnight guests. I hesitated, I would have liked to clean up but the thought of lying on a bed safely and closing my eyes won out over cleanliness.
Her dad told us his name was Charlie Kitwillie and he remembered Leon from previous trips up the river. He said he would take care of the canoe and showed us to the bedroom. It was done in rust tones with twin bunk beds and down comforters in geometric designs with big, fluffy pillows. I claimed the top bunk, kicked off my boots, pulled off my dirty clothes and was under the covers in less than a minute. Almost asleep in less time than that. Leon sat on the edge of the lower bunk and talked. His low, rumbling tones penetrated my tired brain for only a few minutes before I sank deep into dreams.
Rachel was there, sitting on Grandfather’s rock with her knees tucked under her chin. Her eyed gleamed over the white buckskin. She looked content. I stood at her feet and looked up, my heart heavy now that I saw her again.
“You like my gift, Lakan?” she asked, not smiling although I could see one tugging at her lips.
“She’s not you, Rachel. She might look like you but -.” She jumped down and put her hand across my mouth to hold back the complaints I might make. Her fingers were cool and ephemeral, the hand of a spirit, not a real girl.
“Lakan, you love me but I never had the time to discover what I could have felt for you. Besides, she is meant for you, she compliments the part of you that needs help.” Gently, I pushed her hand away so I could speak.
“I thought I was perfect,” I said sarcastically. “A perfectly created being.”
“None of God’s creatures are perfect, Lakan. Though some have come close. Where your heart is sorrowful, she brings you joy. Where you know many things, she knows everything. Where you are certain, she brings uncertainties.”
“She says she is part Fae. Fairy folk,” I sneered.
“Trust her, she sees the world of time beyond the veil. I came this last time to say goodbye. You don’t need me anymore.”
“No, Rachel!” I cried. “Don’t leave me! I love you!”
“I will always remember you, Lakan. Be safe and be happy.” She kissed me on the cheek and it burned with a lovely iciness that made me cry out.
I sat up in a strange bed and startled Leon. He got up, stood at the side and reached for me in the darkness. “What time is it?” I asked in a voice stuck on scratchy.
“Nearly 5:30 a.m. Bad dream? Do you need a drink? Something to eat?” His concern was stifling.
I slid down and retrieved my clothes pulling on the long johns first before I answered him. “I dreamed of her. She came to say goodbye.”
“Where’s she going?” He didn’t ask who, he knew I was talking about Rachel.
“I don’t know. Heaven, the next level. The spirit realm. Whatever. I won’t ever see her again.”
“Lakan, she died,” he tried to say it gently but it came out as harsh as its reality.
I buried my head in my hands. “I know. Too late for her, for us. For whatever my dreams could be.” I hurried out of the room before he could see my tears and ran down to the river where I could be alone. Behind me, I heard the girl tell Leon to let me be.
I walked along the banks on a narrow trail that had been used by both men and animals; I read their stories in the tracks that they had left behind. So, it was I that saw the first of Chase’s men breaking down the river in an inflatable boat. My first instinct was to turn around and run back to the outpost but I knew that if I moved, the movement would catch Aiken’s eye much quicker than if I remained motionless.
An agonizingly slow five minutes later, they had passed my position and were out of sight. I turned to backtrack my trail when the girl materialized out of the woods with Leon in tow. I hadn’t seen or heard anything until she was in front of me. She handed me my coat, backpack, the bow, and quiver. Told me to put them on and follow her. I did as she asked without question; she led us into the brush not on a trail but into a narrow ravine with a thin trickle of water in the bottom.
She left no marks on the ground and was as careful as I about ensuring that Leon did not disturb the leaves or the soil. The ground was still frozen and hard enough not to leave footprints but our boots could knock off edges of frozen clods and leave a sign.
I saw both doe and buck hoof prints in the frozen turf but nothing larger. I knew the area was rife with bears but hopefully, most of them were hibernating.
After we reached the end of the ravine, she motioned for us to climb to the rim and wait. I was first up and the climb was taxing; it required that I use my hands to pull me forward using the trunks to facilitate my climb. What I saw was a stand of hardwoods, so thick that I knew this area had not been logged in two hundred years. The trees were huge, oaks and maples as large as Volkswagens. Even black walnut grew within this copse. It was barely wide enough to squeeze through the openings between the trunks. It was more like trying to go through a massed army at parade attention.
Yet, Maiara flitted through with ease, warning us to stay close or we would get lost. We followed on her heels for an hour.