Chapter Nine
A sound woke her.
Jo’s head lifted off her arms and she was surprised to be looking out into the foggy new morning.
She concentrated, what had she heard? Jo was unsure. Peering out into the morning she looked for signs of a sound. A deep fog met her gaze.
Then she heard it, the sound of a bear roaring—an animal growl of pain.
The next sound she heard made her heart stop, a gunshot. The crack was so loud and resounded with such authority that Jo nearly fell back from the window.
Jo pushed herself, fumbling, off the bed. She landed on all fours and she tucked her legs, forcing her upper body to lift.
Clayton. Clayton. Clayton. Her heart pounded out the beat. What had she done? She’d gotten him involved. Her legs pumped down the stairs and to the front door. Jo swung the door open and ran out into the morning.
She had no shoes on, was wearing only a robe, but she didn’t care. Her only thought was of Clayton.
The dream she’d had. The nightmare. Where Clayton had been shot. Had that been a premonition? She saw the vision she’d had, the vision of Clayton’s legs buckling beneath him. The vision of him dying. Of him dead.
The fog wrapped over her body, enveloped her.
She hadn’t seen where the sound had come from. She only knew the general direction.
The silence around her left her only more frightened. She should hear something. She should hear another roar. She should hear sounds of pain, whimpers. But there was nothing. Dead silence.
Jo’s feet split open on rocks and sticks as she ran over them. Her leg scrapped against a log. A shot of pain ran through her shoulder as she banged it against a large branch.
She wanted to yell for him, scream, but her voice wouldn’t come.
She felt something wet underfoot and stopped. She was standing on blood. Jo felt like she was in a nightmare, only worse than the one she’d actually had.
Jo walked backward in the blood and looked around. She saw a clump of fur, then another. Jo walked toward it. She felt sick. She was going to be sick.
Clayton, her heart was still saying the name.
When she came upon the body Jo’s face tightened. In front of her was a large brown bear, shot through the head. He lay dead. But he wasn’t Clayton.
Jo put a hand to her mouth. Who would do this?
“Josephine,” her name was said loudly and Jo spun around. “I’m mighty glad to see you, though I doubt you can say the same.”
Jack Henderson stood smiling at her. He had a hunting camouflage on and a rifle in his hand.
Jo waited, she expected him to cock his gun, to aim, to shoot. But he didn’t move. He just kept looking at her with that same smile.
“Did you want to talk?” her voice was full of sarcasm but she didn’t have the energy to try and save herself. If he was determined to kill her then he would.
“Tsk, tsk,” Jack made a clucking sound and began walking toward her. He put a finger up to his lips in a sign of silence. There was a sound of breaking sticks in the woods.
Jo was confused, Jack seemed more interested in the woods around her then he was in her.
Jack raised his shotgun and pointed it into the fog then he got very low with his back against a tree. He was only a few feet from Jo and could easily move the muzzle of the gun and shoot but he seemed concentrated on the trees.
What was he waiting for?
“That grizzly yesterday was mighty interesting, wouldn’t you say?” Jack’s voice was quiet and his eyes flicked around him, barely landing on Jo at all. She should move. She should do something.
Jo put a foot toward the trees and suddenly the gun was on her again. She held her breath and waited but still there was no shot.
“It was larger than any grizzly I’ve ever seen…and it almost…almost seemed to be protecting you.” Jack’s eyes came to rest on Jo and there was a smile on his lips that Jo wished she could slap away.
Her heart hammered. He was waiting for Clayton. He was waiting for her protector.
There was another crack coming from the brush and Jo began to panic. Of course, he would have heard the gunshots, he would see the open door, he would think… Jo looked at the fog around her.
“And so you are hunting him? The grizzly?” she felt her throat constrict.
“Hunting you too, but you were disappointingly easy to catch,” Jack pointed his gun directly at Jo. There was another crack from the brush and he swiveled his body and the tip of the gun toward it.
Jo pulled her hands into fists and tried not to think about what she was going to do. She had to move and she had to move now.
With no time for hesitation, Jo dove behind the nearest tree and into the fog. It was one thing to resign oneself to death it was another entirely to give someone else up to it.
“Clayton,” she bellowed at the top of her voice, knowing full well that yelling would alert Jack to her location. “It’s Jack and he’s got a rifle,” she ran forward to the next tree and then the next as she yelled. There was the sound of a rifle crack and Jo grimaced. She had not been hit.
Jo took a breath then ran forward again. She would get as far as she could. Wouldn’t Clayton be able to track her, to smell that she’d gotten away? If she could make Jack chase her then he wouldn’t be able to focus on Clayton.
“Help,” she yelled the word more for the benefit of Jack than anything else. She wanted him to know that she was moving away, she wanted him to try to find her. To follow her.
The fog was beginning to lift and her vision was getting better, but that meant that Jack’s vision would be getting better as well.
Jo plunged forward again and again. She wasn't sure if she heard movement behind her or if the sounds were created by her own movement.
As she ran forward she ran out of the trees and into an opening. The trees offered cover but she couldn’t go back. Jo sprinted out into the clearing, she needed to get to the other side as quickly as possible, to get back to the cover of the trees.
Then she was certain she heard the sounds of someone else. Jo ran as fast as she could her legs hitting the ground, her heart ready to pop out of her chest.
Her foot hit a root and sent her into the air. She reached her arms out but there was nothing to steady her, nothing to grab onto. Jo hit the ground and all the air in her lungs knocked out of her.
She turned and looked back toward the trees she’d come from. She had to get up, had to keep moving.
The outline of Jack loomed blurry behind her. He raised his gun.
“Drop it… Bradley.” The sound came from the still hazy fog and Jo peered toward a new figure. Clayton stood with a gun cocked, aiming directly at Jack.
“Fancy seeing you here,” Jack was trying too hard to be nonchalant. Jo could feel the tinge of fear and hot energy in the man, “Sounds like someone’s been doing their homework.”
“Drop it,” Clayton’s voice was low and commanding. Jo looked between the two men.
Jack began to drop the muzzle of his gun, inch by inch. Jo could see the man’s mind working. Clayton moved closer, and closer, then just as he was about to reach out and grab the gun Jack turned on him. Jack used the butt of his gun to knock Clayton’s arm and his gun went flying.