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I squinted down at the man by the raft. He had a gun, too, this one in a holster at his hip. He rested his hand on it, his thumb idly snapping and unsnapping the bit of leather that kept it secure.
I shook. It was like I was the leaning tree in a windstorm, shuddering and shivering all over.
Leave, I thought. Just do what you came here for and leave.
It was a long time before my dad and the lanky man came out of the cabin, and when they did my dad was no longer carrying a rifle. The two of them walked down to the beach. Dad nodded to the man there. He didn’t nod back. The two newcomers said something to each other, and then all three walked back up toward the woods, the second man carrying the metal crate.
I moved through the trees, staying low, crabbing along with my hands and hauling my bad leg with me as best as I could. I kept my bow on my back, but my arrows were rattling. I paused long enough to strip off my rain shell and stuff it down between the arrows, keeping them cushioned so they wouldn’t rattle. Then I hurried, because they’d gotten out far ahead. We were deep in the woods now, out of sight of the cabin and the shore.
Bo didn’t bark, didn’t even look to the side when a rabbit burst out, racing through the brush. Soon we heard voices again.
“There was that girl, though,” the lanky man said, and my heart gave a jerk in my chest like it was going to try to squeeze straight through my ribs. “What was her name? Sally?” They weren’t talking about me. I relaxed a fraction.
“Sophia,” the other man answered, voice slightly strained from carrying the heavy load. I still couldn’t see them, but I followed the sound.
“Sophia,” the lanky man confirmed. “She was something. She was—” He paused, and I thought he must be making a gesture. Probably having something to do with the size of some portion of her body. “Whatever happened to her?”
“Dunno. She wasn’t exactly the bring-home-to-mama type,” the other man replied. “Only stuck around for a couple weeks. Asked for gas money. Said she’d pay me back.”
“Seems to me she already paid you back,” the lanky man said, and gave a laugh that made my whole body clench up. “How about you, Carl? Don’t suppose you get much tail around here. Not unless a moose stands still long enough.”
Dad didn’t answer.
“Come on now, Carl. Just being friendly,” the lanky man said. Finally I crept up close enough to see them. There were beads of sweat on Dad’s forehead, and he stared at the ground ahead of him instead of looking at them.
“Hold up,” the lanky man said. “This’ll do.” They halted and set down the crate. They were standing in a little clearing where a big tree had fallen. The lanky man stamped on the ground. “Yep. Here.”
The other man opened the crate and took out a pair of shovels before shutting it again. He tossed one to dad. “Start digging,” he said.
The digging took a long time. The whole time, the lanky guy—Raph, I learned as they spoke—talked and talked. Mostly about women. Talking about women in ways that sex ed and prime time TV did not prepare me for. I hated him more and more with every word. The other man, Daniel, didn’t say nearly as much, but he laughed at all of Raph’s jokes and that was bad enough.
When the hole was really deep and as wide and long as the crate, Dad and Daniel climbed out. Daniel took the shovel from Dad, and Dad stood with his hands hanging by his sides.
“Well. Put the stuff in,” Raph said. Dad looked at him for a long, flat moment. Cold fear snaked through my gut. Something was very wrong.
I took my bow off my back and slowly slid an arrow free. I set it to the string and eased out to where I could get a clear shot. Daniel had his back to me. Raph did, too. I had to shoot just right. I had to kill Raph right away, so he couldn’t draw his gun. And then I had to kill Daniel, too.
Dad looked straight at me. I froze. Raph was looking over at Daniel, grumbling about something, and Dad fixed his gaze on me. It’s okay, he mouthed. And then he shook his head, once. And he turned back to help Daniel. I hesitated. I could still shoot. They still weren’t looking.
And what if I missed?
What if I wasn’t fast enough to get another arrow out before Daniel pulled his gun?
What if I missed Daniel?
What if the pilot heard gunshots and came after us?
Dad said it was okay. So I had to believe that it was. They’d bury that box, whatever the hell it was. And then they’d leave us alone. I eased the arrow and sank back behind the tree.
Dad and Daniel hauled the crate over to the hole and lowered it in. When they were done they stood a moment and panted, wiping sweat from their brows. Dad turned to Raph. “There we go,” he said. “Safe as houses until you need it. I’ll make sure it stays that way.”
“Still leaves us with a problem,” Raph said.
“I told you. The money’ll be here by the time you get back,” Dad said. “I didn’t steal it.”
“Just borrowed it,” Raph said. He smiled, nodded. “I believe you, Carl. I believe you’ll get that money.”
Dad reached out his hand. “I’ll shake on it,” he said. “My guarantee.”
Raph kept smiling. And he took out his gun. And he shot my father in the head.
