The
Chapter 5a
Interstate 95 south of
“Now what’s that going to be
about?”
“What?” asked Jon starting to
look back.
“Trooper
behind us.”
The gold and black cruiser
had put on its flasher.
“So where in
“So I’ve been falling in love
with cousins all these years. That’s
disgusting,” said
“I’ll stick with cousins, I
think.”
“Of course science tells us
we have been around a lot longer, but we’re still all cousins to one degree or
another.”
“So how does this take us to
“Well Ivan’s friend and mine,
“Damned
terrorists.”
“The last thing Terra did was
send the message I showed you. We looked
it up and found that, if you believe all the stories, our
friend was exactly a hundred and twenty generations after Adam.”
“Was she pretty?”
“Terra was a man. We checked the atlas, and if you go west from
“It sounds far fetched.”
“It is, but Terra was from
Cuthbert.”
“Well that works. But when is the wedding?”
“No wedding. The word “bride” probably means a
church. The church being the bride of
Christ is an idiom that any
“Why not just say it?”
“For some reason he thought
somebody would intercept it, and if they weren’t in the culture it might throw
them off. The ‘don’t go to the
authorities’ bit is an unfortunate red flag.
Nothing gets the attention of authorities like thinking they’re being
left out.”
“So you think the authorities
are after us.”
“I’m afraid so. The code wouldn’t even slow a professional
down. If they glanced at web traffic
around the time of the attack they’d check that one out for sure. So I guess that’s why we’re sitting here.”
“So the rest of the night we
face bright lights and say we don’t know anything.”
“Yep. And we look so
innocent and sincere and our stories are so consistent that they think we must
be really tough nuts to crack. Sorry.”
“We could make up stories.”
“Probably
not a good idea, seeing as how we have no idea what it’s all about.”
Presently the trooper
returned. His manner was more relaxed.
“Sorry for
the inconvenience, ma’am. Somebody reported this car as stolen. But your paper work is all right. You don’t know what this could be about, do
you?”
“No,
officer. Probably some honest
mistake somewhere.”
Jon cut in. “Officer, can you tell us the best way to get
to the
“Sure. Take the next exit but one. Take the road all the way through town and
after you’re through
The trooper went back and
waited with his flasher going until
Ivan spoke from the rear seat. “Why did you ask about the national forest?”
“Well I figure that if
somebody called in that the car was stolen, somebody knows where we are. So we make like a jackrabbit and do a couple
of right angle turns. We’ll go into
“If you want to lose
somebody, the forest is not a bad place to do it.”
“All right. We’ll stop
there overnight and see how it looks in the morning.”
They followed the directions
until they pulled up at a motel called Swamp Fox Inn right next the forest. It was a cluster of little cabins of a kind
that had once been much more popular.
But the movie “Psycho” had spooked a lot of people about such classic
motels, which tended to remain only in places where time moved slowly.
They got a room, found some
country music on the television and cleaned up a bit.
“Food,” said Jon. “Let me get on the phone and order us a
pizza.”
“Telephones. Really,
They had cleaned up and Jon
was looking for news on the TV while Ivan stood at the open door listening to
frogs piping in the wilderness not many yards distant.
Ivan said, “It’s a little
over an hour from
He made the others lie down
under a big steel tank on an iron frame.
“Don’t move and the scorpions will ignore you,” he said cheerfully.
They didn’t have long to
wait. Two SUV’s slipped up and men with
submachine guns emerged. They checked
out
Ivan whispered in Jon’s ear,
“Follow me. Pick your feet up very high
as you run.”
As the men started to batter
the door the three got up and sprinted for the woods.
Jon concentrated on Ivan’s
back.
In an hour they must have
covered a mile. Ivan found slightly
higher ground under some hardwoods. He
rustled around a bit and then there was the sound of him fishing in his
pockets. Presently there was a click and
a few sparks. Then there was a rasp and
a flare as
“Won’t they see the fire?”
Jon asked.
“If we keep it small and stay
close it should be all right.” Ivan
started to sniff the air. “Wait a bit.”
Ivan melted into the
night. He sniffed cautiously. The warm moist air carried the unmistakable
smell of a snake. It was the same as the
smell of a dying man, the smell of a large amount of fresh spilt blood. He searched the forest floor for the
trademark undulating shape. After a time
there was the unmistakable sound of a predator striking. A few minutes later he emerged into the
firelight carrying the skinned serpent.
He hung the skin on a bush to dry and prepared a green stick for
cooking.
After supper
Jon said, “Ivan. You know these woods well.”
Ivan grunted. “It is shame to tiptoe in your own stamping
ground. But sometimes one must. We will have to sleep on the ground. Making a sleeping platform would make too
much noise. We sleep in turns. Someone has to keep the fire going to keep
the bugs and snakes away.”
They didn’t awaken Jon. Tracy and Ivan sat up a long time whispering
by the fire. Then they swapped three
hour watches. Jon was awakened at dawn
by the sound of Ivan burying the fire.
That morning they continued
to follow Ivan as he picked his was in baffling loops and doubles through the
forest. Great oaks and cypress grew
overhead, hung with festoons of grey Spanish moss. Occasionally
A jeep rattled up. A forest ranger hailed them.
“You folks shouldn’t wander
around where you don’t know where you’re going.
They raise marijuana around here.
Some of their bushes can bring a thousand bucks on the street, and
they’d just as soon shoot you as wonder if you are going to land ‘em in jail.”
Ivan said, “A thousand bucks
a bush. That must beat moonshining.”
“Now you three just follow on
out. There ain’t
no law against your being here, and that’s the good
news. The bad news is there ain’t no law at all.”
“Sir, can I talk with you a
moment?” Ivan inquired.
The two men, ranger and Ivan,
strolled off a few yards. From where the
others stood watching, there was a subtle sense of a change in rank that
occurred over the next few minutes. The
ranger was smiling a little less, looking a little less relaxed and no longer
looking straight at Ivan. He didn’t
actually squirm. At the end of the
conversation he squared his shoulders proudly, grinned, bounded into his jeep
and sped away.
Ivan said to the others,
“Lets get some fresh water. There’s a
spring near here.” Sure enough, within a
mile the dry flat ground dropped away into a tiny glen. A clear stream bubbled out of the earth and
then wandered irresolutely away in the general direction of swampy land beyond. They drank, washed their faces and drank
again. The water was cold and
delicious. Splashed on the skin it was
the best ointment there was for the scratches and bites of the past day. Then they were making forced march again.
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