The Hunting (6 page)

T
hey left the moment it got dark. Genie was a tad reluctant to leave the Bear Island sanctuary, but the other two anxious to move on. Renée wasn’t too keen to wait for any bears to show up and wanted to get to the city. She said she’d feel safer there. It was easier to hide where there were people around.

The moon hadn’t yet risen, the air was chillier than before and the current seemed faster. Their next goal was getting downriver towards Mission and beyond that Vancouver. Renée had a cousin in New Westminster and she figured they could crash there. If they ever got that far.

‘Did you know the Fraser River is our longest river?’ Rian said as he shifted positions to get more comfortable as he paddled. ‘It’s one thousand three hundred and seventy-five kilometres long.’

Genie, paddling alongside, looked askance at him. ‘And you broke the silence for this amazing fact.’

‘Just thinking, that’s all.’

‘Well then, it’s a good job we didn’t start back at Mount Robson, huh? See, I used to sit in the same class as you, Rian Tulane, and occasionally I learned the same stuff as you. And anyway, it’s only the tenth-longest river in Canada. No biggie.’

Renée was trailing a hand in the river. ‘Guys, shut the hell up. Sound carries on water remember.’

Rian concentrated on paddling, keeping them in the deeper water.

Genie watched some trucks go by on the highway running alongside the river again. Truckers heading home to families, maybe. She was wondering if she’d ever lead a normal life again – not that she’d every really led a normal life to start with. She was curious about what her mother was thinking right now. Did she care if she was alive or dead? Had she known Reverend Schneider was recruiting souls for the Fortress? She sighed; thinking about her mother only made her angry and she didn’t want to be angry.

The river picked up speed suddenly as they entered a narrow stretch with steeper slopes on either side. The water was incredibly choppy.

‘We getting faster?’ Renée whispered, her voice betraying her anxiety.

‘Hold on,’ Rian called. ‘Ship your paddle, Genie. Damn, I can’t see anything, but we’re …’ He nearly lost his paddle and the raft spun all the way round as it collided with some rocks mid-stream.

Not seeing where they were going and what dangers lay ahead was unnerving.

‘Hold on to Mouch,’ Genie called out, scared now as water cascaded over the prow and drenched them.

‘There aren’t any rapids, are there?’ Renée asked, panic in her voice.

‘No. Hell, I don’t know,’ Rian answered, desperately trying to steady them. ‘We’ve diverted from the main channel, I think. Hang on tight.’

A powerful flashlight suddenly flooded the raft. It blinded all three of them. The light moved away wildly as the other raft turned to cope with the rapid-moving river.

‘It’s them,’ someone shouted. ‘I know it is. It’s them.’

Genie’s heart nearly stopped.

‘Jesus,’ Rian exclaimed. ‘Who the hell?’

‘Will they shoot?’ Renée asked.

‘They don’t want us dead,’ Genie muttered tersely. ‘They’ll want the reward money.’

Rian took strength from that. The raft was pitching up and down now as it entered the rapids, a surge of water pushing them forward, squeezing them up against fast-moving debris. All he could do to just hold on, likewise for Genie, now holding Mouch tightly, and Renée was lying flat and twisting her hands through the grab handles – just in case.

The powerful searchlight was still seeking them. Rian ducked down beside Genie.

‘Start praying.’

‘I
am
praying.’

‘Good, ’cause I’m crapping myself here,’ Renée said. ‘Who the hell are they?’

‘Bounty hunters. I saw a pair go by earlier.’

Genie and Renée digested this set of facts. Hunters. Hunters meant guns. Big guns. Hunters liked shooting at things.

The river was moving dangerously fast. Genie clung on to Moucher as Renée tried to grab Rian. Suddenly they plunged down into a foaming rush of water, a jagged rock snagged the inflatable and Rian was sent flying.

A shot rang out real close, pinging off a rock. Genie was pitched underwater, churning in the freezing sluice, gasping for breath. Mouch sprang free. Somewhere ahead Renée was screaming as she stayed with the inflatable, rapidly disappearing downriver. And Rian? Where was Rian? Why didn’t he come up for air?

‘Rian? Rian?’ Genie wailed as she surfaced, but there was no sign of him.

She saw the hunter’s flashlight approaching and immediately ducked underwater again wondering how long she could hold her breath. All the while she was praying Rian was OK. Please let Ri be OK …

‘They are right here,’ a hunter was saying as he reloaded the shotgun. ‘I can almost smell the money.’

Rian was reeling, tasting blood. He’d bashed his head hard and swallowed a ton of water. He surfaced, turning around to get his bearings. He was still moving downriver. A flashlight was sweeping the water looking for them and Rian, head spinning with pain, had to dive under again to avoid them finding him.

But where was Genie? Where was Renée? He surfaced again seconds later to look for them and was immediately struck hard on the head again by fast-moving timber. He instantly lost consciousness. The river was able to do with him what it willed.

Renée tried to untangle herself from the raft. She’d twisted her hand round the straps to keep her in, but now it was on top of her and she couldn’t get free. She was being pummelled by rocks and knew if she didn’t flip it over real soon she was going to drown.

The hunter with the flashlight turned to his father and pulled a face.

‘Can’t find ’em again, Pa.’

His pa swore. ‘I told you, Sean, no shooting. They want them alive, you dumb bastard. No shooting.’

‘Sorry, Pa. Accident. I swear it. Accident.’

His father attempted to steer the inflatable closer to where the raft was last seen.

‘Sweep again. That’s my reward money going under and they ain’t going to pay up if they drowned.’

Genie and Moucher were sitting shivering like drowned rats on a rock mid-stream, keeping dead quiet in the darkness. The moon was up at last and could be glimpsed through the trees overhead. She realized that somehow they’d taken a run-off channel the main river was flowing normally about fifty metres away. How that had happened she didn’t know, but then not one of them had any river craft.

She watched the two hunters in their inflatable sweeping the water with their flashlight. Where was Rian? She was beginning to panic; she had a terribly bad feeling about him. The hunters wouldn’t spot her here, nor could they get their craft near. She discovered her fingers were crossed; she’d been saying a prayer for Rian and Renée and their safety.

You could never count on anything, she realized. Ten grand per head motivated a lot of people in these parts. That was for sure.

The flashlight was sweeping close to her again and she grabbed Mouch and squatted down low behind the rock. Mouch shook with fear and the cold, but kept quiet, just as he’d been told to.

Genie heard the inflatable’s motor kick in. They were moving off. Either they had given up or were going downstream. Perhaps leaving, in case the gunshot had alerted anyone. But there was little chance of that out here. There was nothing but farmland and trees …

Rian hauled himself out of the river and lay gasping on the riverbank, spewing out river water. He was in agony. His head hurt like hell and blood trickled into his mouth. He wanted to yell Genie’s name but the hunters might still be in earshot, despite their outboard engine’s noise.

He looked downstream for signs of Renée and the raft, but she had disappeared. He hoped like hell she’d managed to flip it over again and stayed put somewhere.

He clutched his head; he felt incredibly dizzy. Shooting pains suddenly overwhelmed him and he had to cough. He felt bad, real bad. He could feel his temperature spiking, a hot flush sweeping over him; his brain was going to boil over. He really needed Genie now. Where was she? He fell back against the mud and sand, groaning loudly as he clutched his head; the world was spinning around him out of control.

Genie pointed to the riverbank. ‘We’re going to swim. OK, Mouch? Follow me.’

Genie plunged back in, Mouch quickly followed, his doggy-paddle pretty good, he wasn’t far behind her at all. Clambering out over rocks, on the other hand, was harder, but eventually Genie got one half-drowned bedraggled hound out of the water and he shook as hard as he could to rid himself of the river.

‘Enough already!’ Genie exclaimed.

Mouch gave one last shake and then wiped his head on the grass to be sure.

‘Rian?’ Genie shouted. ‘Rian?’

Genie listened. Nothing. She realized that the river made a lot of noise passing over the rocks. He probably couldn’t hear. She hoped so. She had images of him lying bleeding someplace and …

‘Come on. We got some walking to do.’

Mouch was only too happy to walk. Better than being on the river, that was for sure.

Much further downstream, Renée had detached herself from the raft and watched it sink by the dim glow of moonlight.

She’d surfaced to discover a log-jam had piled up on a bend and although the water was passing really fast underneath through a sluice, the logs and other debris prevented anything from going any further on the surface. The raft was impaled on a jagged tree branch, useless now. With it had died her courage and hopes. She really hoped the others were safe; was she the only survivor? She suddenly realized that a life without either one of them would be just impossible. Totally impossible.

She felt guilty; she should have saved the raft.

O
fficer Miller got out of the cab and let it go. He stretched in the sunshine and looked around him. It was seven a.m. The road was quiet, the way he liked it. Hadn’t been out here in a while.

This gas station had sure let time pass it by. Everything looked as he remembered Canada looked like when he was a boy. He smiled and entered the office.

Ferry was reading
The Vancouver Sun
. He looked up and nodded when he saw Miller.

‘Was beginning to think you wouldn’t come.’

‘Busy. Lot of people gone sick.’

Ferry nodded. ‘All out looking for those kids, I bet. Ten grand per head is a lot these days.’

‘I got a report on the radio that some hunters saw them on the river last night, ’bout ten ks upstream from Chilliwack.’

Ferry frowned. ‘Hunters?’

‘Father and son, thought they’d collect some scalps. Seems the boy accidentally fired and they think the kids drowned. Pretty freak conditions in the run-off down there last night. Normally the Fraser’s slow and easy. Any idea where they got the raft?’

‘Might do. You think the kids are dead? Want some coffee? I just made fresh.’

Miller nodded and Ferry went to pour him a mug.

‘Chopper been out looking this morning but found no trace of them so far.’

Ferry handed over the coffee.

‘Sugar and milk on the side over there.’ He pointed towards a ledge by the fridge. Then he lifted his till some and pulled out a note from under it. ‘From Genie to you and Marshall. Sorry, I read it.’

Miller took it, surprised but glad to get some communication; things were probably pretty bleak for those kids now.

Dear Marshall and Miller,

We made it this far. Couldn’t have done without you guys. Ferry’s a good guy. If we make it, we’ll send a card to the farm. If we don’t I want you to know that you both made me and Ri happy. Please save the farm. One day I know I’ll want to come back. Maybe as a ghost, but I will come back somehow. I promise.

Love me & Mouch xxx

Miller folded the note and put it into his top pocket.

‘Thanks. Marshall will appreciate that.’

‘Truck’s out back. I gave it some TLC plus an oil and lube and replaced the front brakes. You were on threads.’

‘Dad likes that old truck. Won’t join the modern world. Wouldn’t even trade it in when they were offering cash for clunkers.’

‘Don’t build ’em like that any more, that’s why. You want I send the bill to Marshall?’

‘Damage?’

‘Six hundred and fifty dollars. That’s cost. Brake pads are a bitch to fit. And the respray’s for free. Got carried away and I had some matching paint.’

Miller raised an eyebrow, but Ferry was old school. He wouldn’t cheat. If that was the price, that was the price. He got out his Visa card. It was turning out to be an expensive month.

‘They’re heading to Vancouver. If they get as far as Mission, they could hitch,’ Ferry said. ‘They’re pretty good kids.’

Miller handed over his card and Ferry stuck it in the machine.

‘Key in your number.’

Miller did so. It would have to be a gift to his dad. He was pretty broke now.

‘I’ll let you know if we hear anything,’ Miller told him.

‘The Fortress going to get away with what it’s been doing?’

Miller looked away. ‘It might. I’m turning in my badge. Working my notice. I’m not a popular guy in town right now.’

‘
The Sun
says there’s been a lot of UFO hysteria here, but I don’t recall one person saying anything about UFOs.’

‘Disinformation. It’s standard practice. They won’t be taking kids from Spurlake any more but …’

Ferry understood. ‘They’ll still be taking kids.’

Miller took his card back and Ferry gave him the receipt, adding, ‘I haven’t lost faith in Genie and Rian. They look out for each other.’

‘His sister’s with him too. Renée Cullen. Known her all her life.’

Miller smiled sipping his coffee. ‘I see a lot of bad stuff in my job. But y’know, everyone is hard on the kids these days, but they are pretty good, on the whole. Smarter than I was at their age anyway.’

Ferry grinned and handed over the truck keys. ‘Don’t give up too easy. Things have a way of sorting themselves out. You give my best to your dad and tell him that he still owes me five dollars for the dog food he bought last year.’