Chapter 16
Paul waited until noon before starting for the cabin, stopping only to pick up his gun from his apartment. He hadn't used it in years and he had to search for what seemed like a long time before he found the cartridges.
While waiting in Cindy's apartment he had debated whether to call the police. It would be safer. For one thing, he had no way of knowing whether Al was alone. If he was, Paul knew he could handle him; but if he wasn't, it might be trouble. Finally he decided it would be better if he went alone...alone he might have a better chance of surprising whomever was up there.
As he drove through the foothills, he tried to estimate how long it would take him. Having been through this country many times, he had a rough idea where the cabin was. He wanted to be up there a couple of hours before sunset to have a look around. At the speed he was going he would make it in plenty of time.
The note had said to turn off on a dirt road marked by a yellow mailbox. The best thing to do, he thought, was to drive past the dirt road a couple of miles...just in case someone was posted there. Then he could cut back and pick it up somewhere between the highway and the cabin.
Yes, there was the mailbox. He slowed down for a quick look. Nobody in sight. He parked up the road and got out of the car. After another careful look around, he started off through the brush, making as little noise as possible.
Half an hour later he broke through the undergrowth and stood on the muddy road leading to the cabin. Still no one in sight. Maybe this would be easier than he thought. He reached into his coat pocket for his gun and, after checking to make sure it was fully loaded, he left the road again.
He had walked about a mile when he suddenly stopped. He felt dizzy; he put his hand to his forehead. He should have gotten some sleep before...but it was too late for that now. He looked around carefully and listened...the only sounds were those of the forest...the piercing cry of a jay and the sighing of the wind through the tall trees.
He sat down beneath a pine. It wouldn't hurt to rest, for half an hour anyway; he wanted to be clear and sharp when he reached the cabin. The blue jay swooped to land just over his head.
Damn, he should have let someone know where he was going; that was stupid; he had left in too much of a hurry. He closed his eyes for a moment; the jay's cry seemed to fill his whole mind.
Suddenly his consciousness was flooded with images...scenes from the past few days...and before, things he hadn't remembered for a long time. He remembered the first time he had met Cindy, at a party. One of Alex's? He hadn't really noticed her until most of the people had left; she had spent most of the time sitting in a corner and he realized now that she must have been scared, not knowing anybody. Their eyes met several times that night, but he hadn't really wanted to know her...it was too soon after Margo. Too soon, too soon. But he had met her . . .
He opened his eyes; he still felt tired, but it wouldn't be wise to wait any longer. Maybe an hour of sunlight left; but then he still wanted to have a look around. He got up and stretched his tired muscles.
He had traveled perhaps two hundred yards when something off to the left caught his attention; it looked like a piece of clothing. He was about to go on, but something made him investigate. He walked over and picked up the blouse; the buttons were missing, as if it had been ripped off. His heart began to beat faster; he looked carefully at the blouse, but it didn't look like one of Cindy's. He reached for his gun, slipped the safety off and looked around cautiously.
Oh, Jesus, there, about ten yards away, under a bush, a foot. He rushed over and pulled the body out into the open. He had to turn away to avoid being sick.
Katie, Katie...mutilated...covered with blood! Poor Katie. The bastards! He bent down and touched Katie's cold flesh...she'd been dead for a few hours anyway. He removed his jacket and covered Katie's face. Suddenly his heart began to pound uncontrollably. Now he couldn't wait until dark...he had to get to that cabin before they did the same thing to Cindy...he might already be too late.
He started running, not caring now about the noise. But wait! Which direction ? In his haste, he had lost sight of the dirt road. He stopped and looked around...feeling panic stricken. But which way?
Suddenly he heard a scream...he stood still...then another. Oh God, that was Cindy ! He raced off to the right, crashing through the undergrowth, oblivious to the branches that were cutting into his skin.
There it was! The cabin...only a few yards ahead now. He had almost reached the steps when something crashed hard against his chest, knocking the wind out of him and sending him sprawling to the ground. He rolled over just in time to avoid the savage teeth as the huge black dog lunged for his throat. For an instant their eyes met and then instinctively Paul threw out his arm to protect himself. He winced as the powerful jaws clamped around his arm, biting through flesh and muscle. He tried to pull his arm away but he couldn't. With a desperate lunge he got one hand around the animal's throat...and then the other. Locked together they rolled over and over in the mud. Now Paul was on top, both hands around the dog's throat...squeezing, squeezing. Slowly the animal stopped struggling...only its hind legs twitched. He didn't let go until he was sure it was dead. He looked down at his bloody mangled arm. But no time for that now...he had to get inside.
He heard the footsteps behind him, but it was too late, and before he had time to reach for his gun he felt a sharp pain at the base of his skull as Tony brought the club down hard against Paul's head.