Off the Grid

Neil had guessed right. Before he left the cabin, Ray loaded up his shotgun, a Mossberg pump and walked outside and stopped, staring at his mom’s little Camry. Would it be smart to take the Camry? What if someone saw the car? Saw him in it? What if some butthead decided to park by the rock carving, like those hunters, and see his car? If he took the dirt bike he could approach unseen. Leave the bike in the trees and get in close on foot. Go up the path and either ambush them inside the cave (making clean up real easy) or on the pathway as they were walking down. Why take the chance of being spotted in the car?

He slung the shotgun over his shoulder, rolled the dirt bike out of the shed. Their dog had been gnawing on the thigh-bone of Mickey in the yard as Ray passed. The dog barked at Ray, guarding his bone and Ray told the dog to shut it. Seconds later, Ray was on a trail with the wind pushing his hair out of his face. He kind of felt like a badass. He smiled into the wind and a bug slammed against his teeth. He slowed down, spit the remnants out and continued on his way with his mouth closed. He should have worn a helmet.

He heard them before he saw them. Footsteps crunching through dry leaves, branches brushing against fabric and then their voices. He hunkered down behind a tree, cursing his luck. It would have been so much easier if they had still been in the cave. Shaking his head he thought, nothing was ever easy. Peering around the tree, insects buzzing around his sweaty head, Ray waited. He saw the detective first. He glimpsed the bright white of her bandaged hand through drooping branches. He gripped the shotgun tight and held his breath. This was big time, what he was about to do. There was nothing bigger than killing a cop. But she was the one who was bringing their long ride to an end. She was the one closing in on them. Stupid to have left the SUV near the cave with a body in it. At the time, it seemed like the best solution to the problem. They’d been using that trail for years and they had never seen anyone else in all that time. Just bad luck to have a couple of asshole hunters stumble on it. Even still, the cave had been well hidden. No one should have been able to find that. Hell, Ray even had trouble finding the entrance and he knew where it was! He had no idea how she did it, but she found the cave. Never in a million years did he think anyone would find their corpse hidey-hole, but she had. She was the reason he was sitting in the woods clutching a shotgun contemplating the very dangerous action of murdering a cop. How the hell had she found the cave?

They stopped on the path. He exhaled a deep breath. The man in the hat, the stranger was staring at him. It was hard to tell with the shadows of the trees and the wide-brimmed hat on his head as if the stranger was looking at him, but it felt to Ray that he was, that there were eyes on him. It wouldn’t have surprised Ray if the man raised a finger and pointed it at him. What the hell was going on? He shouldn’t be able to see him. Hell, Ray could see only parts of the man in the hat through the trees. Then the detective turned her head towards him too.

Ray, ever so slowly, turned the barrel and aimed down the sight. He’d go for the detective first. He knew she had a gun so she was the most dangerous. He had the sight on her and worked out what to do. The shell was a slug, a large bullet and at this point he wished he had loaded it with birdshot. The spread from this distance could hit both of them with one shot. It’d at least knock them down and give him a chance to rush them and pump more rounds into them. He didn’t think of that though. He wanted a powerful slug, a solid bullet to tear into them from close up. Too late for that now.

He brought the sight up onto the detective’s torso, saw she was wearing a bulletproof vest and raised the barrel higher, for a head shot. A difficult shot in the best of conditions. Ray was confident of hitting her from here though. He was a good shot and even though shooting uphill was more difficult because people misjudged the angle, Ray thought he could pull it off. At this point, he had no choice.

He pulled the trigger. The gun boomed and rocked back into his shoulder. At the moment he fired, the detective leaned back, reaching for the straps on her vest. This put her head and part of her torso behind a tree. The slug skimmed past the tree as Ray had adjusted his aim when he saw her move. Bark and wood shrapnel exploded from the tree. Ray fired again but both of them had dropped to the ground. He fired a third time and then there were bullets were flying at him. They buzzed and ripped through the branches around him. He dropped down, slid backward on his knees and elbows and when the bullets stopped, he stood and ran down the incline towards his bike thinking he fucked up, he missed them both! His heart ba-boomed and his mouth was dry as a hill of sand as he continued to glance back to see if they were following him. They weren’t. He made it to his bike, jumped on it and sped away. The only consolation to the whole sad, sorry business was at least they didn’t know who he was. They could guess, but they couldn’t know.

Halfway back to the cabin he had to stop. His bowels loosened and the urge to empty them was overwhelming. Crouching behind a tree, spilling his guts out through his butt, he thought this is where the expression, ‘so scared I shit my pants’ came from. Experiences like this. In a rare moment of empathy, he thought this is how some of their victims must have felt before they killed them. Ray wasn’t used to introspection so the thought was dismissed as quickly as it formed. He wiped himself with a leaf, making sure it wasn’t poison ivy, grimaced and stood. His stomach gurgled and on shaky legs, he mounted the dirt bike and slinging the shotgun over his shoulder continued the drive back to the cabin, taking it slow because of his sensitive guts.

The whole thing was falling apart. Nothing was going right. The only good thing was Ray knew that if the cops had enough to arrest him and his partners, they would be in jail already. That meant they had a chance to avoid jail provided they got rid of all the evidence. They’d have to burn the cabin for sure. Sooner rather than later. They’d have to dump their burner phones and of course, kill Lynda. Sorry Neil, but it’s going to have to be done and done right now. Thinking about killing her brought a smile to his face. She was such a bitch! He could use this shotgun one last time. He imagined the shell ripping through her skull. It made him happy. Then he’d have to get rid of the shotgun. In his haste to be away from all the bullets flying around him, he left the shells behind for them to gather and do all those tests they do. They might find the shells and they might not. Better to get rid of the gun and not even have to worry about it at all. He’d get to the cabin, open the little door in the wall and boom! Slug right in her face! He wondered what it would do to her head. Would it explode like a watermelon? Would it pop out her eyes? Interesting to find out. He’d never done that before. Should he wear a raincoat?