Cruel World(97)

“I’ve gotta rest. Can’t go any more right now.”

“It’s okay. You two take a breather, and I’ll scout ahead.”

“Don’t get kidnapped by a cult, huh?” Alice said as he moved away. “Not sure I can come save your ass this time.”

Quinn gave her a smile and walked over a slight rise that dropped into a gully. He waded through piles of fallen leaves a foot deep and climbed the other side, muscling up a short ridge before stopping. He took two steps and walked onto a hiking trail.

He stood there gazing down its length that stretched in either direction for what seemed like miles. Straight ahead the trail became a T, and across the path was a faded wooden sign, its carved letters highlighted in yellow paint.



Crowfoot County Park

Sheep’s Hoof Trail Head 3.9 mi ~>

<~ Grand Falls Recreation Center 1.1 mi



Quinn stared at the sign and then closed his eyes. Only another mile and they’d be at some kind of civilization. Food, water, transportation. He turned back, marking the way with each step. As he moved, he took in the tranquility of the forest, the easy movement of the trees growing their leaves for the summer soon to come. The world had ended, humankind as a whole losing their footing on the side of the mountain of life, but here, here everything was the same as it had been for centuries. Untouched, untainted, serenity.

He was so lost in thought as he neared the place where he’d left Alice and Ty, he almost missed the sensation growing on his left side. A pressure of presence. He slowed and listened before swinging the rifle up and kneeling to steady himself for a cleaner shot.

The dog sat on its haunches fifty yards away. Its ears were erect, eyes focused on him, unmoving. It watched him for a span and then turned its head as Ty’s high-pitched laughter rang out through the trees. The dog gave him another look and then rose and darted away through the underbrush and was gone.

“Wait,” Quinn called out as he stood, but the Shepherd had vanished.

When he made it back to where Alice and Ty rested, Alice had her eyes closed and was seated at the base of a tree, her head tipped back. Ty turned in Quinn’s direction at the sound of his footsteps.

“Quinn?”

“Yeah, buddy, just me.”

“I thought I heard something else a few minutes ago.”

“You probably did. Our canine friend was nearby.”

“The puppy?”

“He’s more of a grown-up dog, but yeah, he was here.”

“What was it doing?” Alice asked, not opening her eyes.

“It looked like he was watching you guys.”

She cracked an eyelid. “Cujo?”

“I don’t think so. He was just sitting there, really calm.”

“Did he have one of those little whisky barrels around his neck?”

Quinn laughed. “No, I didn’t see one.”

“Damn.”

“I found a hiking trail not too far ahead, and there’s a recreation area that might have a building or two we can stay in for the night and regroup.”

“Wonderful. Give me two seconds.”

“Mom’s not feeling good,” Ty said, placing a hand on his mother’s shoulder.

“I’m fine, Tyrus. Give me some room to get up,” Alice said, sitting forward. Quinn moved closer and knelt near her feet.

“Let me take a look at that leg.”

“Kinda forward, aren’t you?” Alice said, but sat back and drew up her pant leg.

The wound was puckered with blackened blood near its center, but the skin around it was a violent red and swollen. Quinn grimaced.

“I know. Let’s get to the rec center,” Alice said, her eyes meeting his.

She leaned on him once she was able to get to her feet, the going slow and arduous. When they made it to the trail, he glanced at her face, a mask of concentration and sweat, her pupils huge.

“I’m fine; I can make it,” she breathed, and gripped his arm harder.

They set off down the hiking trail, its grade mercifully level. The sun slanted between the trees pouring golden light across the shoots of grass growing green along the sides of the path. After a half hour, the woods began to thin, and they caught glimpses of the side of a structure, its color blending with the browns and grays of the forest. The trail led to a paved turnaround and an empty parking lot, a solitary potato chip bag drifting across its expanse. The park headquarter building was two stories with bright white trim around its windows, some of which were broken. Signs directing hikers and campers alike were posted across its front and stood on posts outside the entrance. A red mountain bike leaned against the side of the building.