Chapter One - Hollow Crib

Loose gravel rolled beneath the tires of the green Thunderbird. An occasional rock popped against the undercarriage. The pitted road snaked through the steep hills of the Kisatchie National Forest like a python slithering after its prey. Wondering when the next rough bend in the road would be the last, William Chandler kept the Thunderbird to a modest speed. One wrong move could send his family plunging over the embankment and down to the rocky rapids of the Kisatchie Bayou.

Miles later, the road veered away from the bayou and a gradual descent brought them to a spacious, paved parking lot at the end of the forest road. William eased his car to a stop in front of a large timber fence. The fence stretched in either direction and disappeared into the dense forest. A break in the fence marked the beginning of a trail that led to the campsites along the banks of the Kisatchie Bayou. He glanced at his sleeping wife and child and shook his head. Those two can sleep through anything.

William opened his door and stepped out. The thick aroma of pine that clung to the cool, afternoon breeze and the sound of the rushing rapids greeted William like an old friend. He looked around. Nothing had changed in the twenty-two years since he’d been here last. He had only been a boy back then, but everything was still familiar. Well, almost everything. He didn’t remember the aged and worn soldier crouched beside the beat-up station wagon. He wore faded BDUs and spoke in a rough voice to a black Pit Bull. He didn’t seem to notice that a car had driven up. William watched with a curious eye as the soldier drew circles in the red dirt with a twig.

“The sun rises over there in the east,” the soldier said intently to the dog. “We’re gonna wait until it gets to right about—” He slapped the ground with the twig and the Pit Bull’s ears came alert. “Pay attention when I’m talkin’ to you, Satan, boy!” Shaking his head, the soldier continued, “Now, where was I? Oh, yeah, we’re gonna wait for that sun to get right about here before we start blowin’ things up. We’re gonna send a slew of them commies to the other side...”

William shuddered and wondered if bringing his new baby to this place was a mistake. There were several other cars in the parking area. A white Honda mini-van was parked on the same side of the lot. He glanced at his wife. Still sleeping—so was Gracie. Two hours ago Claire had coaxed Gracie to sleep with a bottle and then stuck a pillow against the window and drifted off herself. It made the remainder of the trip boring and William had stopped twice to help stay awake; once for beef jerky and a Dr Pepper, and once to use the bathroom.

A tan Lincoln Continental and a silver Mitsubishi Galant sat at the far end of the parking lot. William could see the bright orange of two tents in the woods just beyond the vehicles. Voices echoed through the trees. He remembered seeing several camping areas within a hundred yards of the parking lot when he was a kid. His dad had wanted to camp there, because it wasn’t far to walk, but at little William’s insistence, they trudged off deep into the forest and “roughed it.”

Not liking the looks of the soldier, William started to get back in the car when movement up the trail caught his eye. He strained to see through the dark shadows. Could that be? He shook his head and looked away. When he looked back, she was still there. She wore a long, pink dress that seemed blood red against her snowy complexion. Her black mane floated in her wake. Had to be early twenties. She flashed a smile at William when she got closer, revealing a row of bright teeth.

William waved. “How’re you?”

The woman sighed and leaned against the fencepost. “I’ll be doing better when my husband decides it’s time to get out of this Godforsaken wilderness.”

“Godforsaken?” William threw his hands up and waved them around. “This is real, unadulterated beauty.”

“It’s nice for a few days, but it gets old. I want my bathroom back.”

Right then Gracie let the world know she was awake and hungry. The woman walked past William and looked into the Thunderbird. “Oh, you have a baby. What’s her name?”

“Gracie. Well, Grace, but I call her Gracie. I think Grace sounds old for a baby.”

“I love that name. She must be, what, about six months?”

William nodded. “Exactly.”

“She’s adorable.” The lady leaned into the back seat and tickled Gracie’s cheek. “Hey there, how are you?”

William stared uneasily at Claire, who stirred at the sound of the woman’s voice. As the woman continued to talk, Claire sat upright and rubbed her freckled nose with the palm of her hand, a habit she had acquired long before William knew her. Her eyes turned curious. She looked past the woman at William. “What’s going on, here? Are we there?”

The woman offered Claire her hand. “I’m Janice Prince,” she said. “I couldn’t resist. She’s so adorable.”

Claire shook Janice’s hand and turned back to William. “Is this the place?”

“Yeah, but I think we’ll go back a ways. I saw a place up the road that looked quiet.”

“This place is quiet,” Janice offered.

William glanced back at the soldier, who was still talking to the dog. The guy could be completely harmless, but he didn’t want to chance it, not with his wife and child along. “There’s another campsite about ten miles up the Scenic Trail.”

Claire pouted. “I don’t think I could take another minute in this car. Let’s just stay here.”

William hesitated. “I guess we could.”

Janice’s blue eyes brightened. “Please do. I don’t want to be the only lady in this part of the jungle. And besides,” she tilted her head toward the soldier and lowered her voice. “That weirdo and his dog give me the creeps.”

As though he’d heard, the soldier lifted his head and glared at the trio. William looked away. “Come on, Claire, let’s unpack before it gets dark.”

“When you guys are finished, holler at us,” Janice said. “Jake will be thrilled to see other humans. He loves to talk and I’m not much for conversation. We’re only about a half mile down the trail.” Janice retrieved a bag from her van and flashed a parting smile before she disappeared down the trail.

William didn’t realize he was staring until Claire cleared her throat. He abruptly looked away and opened the trunk. With a grunt, he heaved his father’s worn, five-man tent to his shoulders. He watched as Claire sifted through the trunk.

“Just get Gracie for now,” he said. “I’ll come back for the rest of the stuff after I get the tent up.”

Claire nodded. She eased Gracie’s wriggling frame out of the car seat and followed William down the steep, bumpy trail. He cast an occasional glance back at Claire, who walked in circles, trying to see everything through wide eyes. As she turned, the sun glistened off her shoulder-length, golden hair. “Will, you were right, this is beautiful!”

“Would I lie to you?”

“This isn’t at all what I imagined. The forest looks wild, menacing even, but at the same time so peaceful and safe. It’s like a giant 3-D painting.”

“Wait ‘til you see the creek.”

Five hundred yards along the trail, William changed direction and trudged off into the forest. The vegetation was thicker here, walking a little more difficult, but the descent was more gradual. “Watch your step,” he cautioned, looking back to see how Claire was making out. She picked her way like a soldier walking through a minefield and she clutched Gracie tightly to her chest.

“Where’re you taking us?” she asked.

“Same place my dad took me—if it’s still there.” William stopped and balanced the tent with one hand while he pointed with the other. “See that bright spot up ahead?”

Claire nodded.

“That’s where the bayou cuts through the forest.”

Claire cocked her head. “What’s that roaring sound?”

“The rapids of the Mighty Kisatchie Bayou.” William smiled. “Music to my ears!”

“Is it safe?”

“As long as you don’t fall in.” William pushed on and excitement surged through him when they reached the clearing where the ancient pines stood guard along the high bluffs. He let the tent fall from his thirty-three year old shoulder and walked to the edge of the bluffs. The drop-off was about eight feet. It had seemed like more when he was eleven. When the initial excitement wore off, he felt the aching in his shoulder and performed shoulder rolls to loosen it up. “Sucks to get old.”

Claire didn’t seem to hear him. She kicked off her sandals, shuffled her feet in the pine needles that blanketed the earth, and danced around with Gracie. “This is better than a carpet massage!”

William smiled and plopped on top of the tent. “All these years and nothing’s changed. It’s just like my dad and I left it.”

“You think the old rope’s still there?”

“I don’t know.” William stared dreamily at a large limb that was being tossed about by the rough currents of the raging bayou water. He had told Claire all the stories about him and his dad swinging from that old rope and dropping into the deep swimming hole that was located just north of their campsite. It was a place where the bayou took a sharp bend to the north and the deep water was not as rough. He remembered how raw his palms would get from the rough nylon. When his grip had weakened so that he could no longer hold on, he and his dad would swim across the bayou and search for buried treasure along the beach. He still had a collection of fossilized wood he had found in the woods surrounding that area. “That’ll be Gracie’s now.”

Claire stopped twirling Gracie and looked down at him. “What?”

“Nothing,” he said. “I was just thinking out loud.” He pulled himself up and started back up the trail to unload their gear. He lost count of the trips. Each time he made it to the top of the trail he had to pause to catch his breath—and each time he did, the soldier stopped talking and glared at him. On the last trip, William said, “Hi,” but the soldier didn’t even acknowledge William’s existence.

William hurried back to the campsite. “Something’s up with that soldier,” he told Claire as he set up the tent. “I knew I should’ve brought my pistol.” It was a Colt .45—an old single-action semi-automatic his father had left to him.

“There’s no place for guns on a family vacation,” Claire said.

“Tell me that when a bear’s knocking on the door to our tent.” William pounded the last of the stakes into the soft ground and Claire ducked into the tent with Gracie. William gathered twigs and had a modest fire going just as the sun started to slip behind the line of trees across the bayou. He crawled into the tent and dropped to the hard floor. Claire shoveled spoonful after tiny spoonful of Heinz vegetable beef dinner into Gracie’s mouth. Most of it dripped down her chin.

William closed his eyes and the sounds of the rapids began to slowly fade…

William’s dad called him in from the water. He ran, high stepping through the water, his mouth watering from the smell of barbecue that clung to the warm breeze. As he reached the beach, he heard a loud crack that was barely audible over the roaring of the rapids. He watched, frozen in horror, as a large branch broke free from an ancient pine tree and descended in slow motion toward the ground—toward his father, who smiled from the barbecue pit, unaware of the danger. With a thunderous boom, the tree crashed on top of his father, burying him beneath an onslaught of rough timber and needles. Flames and coals from the pit shot skyward—

William jerked awake and stared wildly about. Gracie was on her belly at the center of the tent and Claire lay watching her. He let out a long sigh.

“Are you okay?” The concern in Claire’s voice was obvious.

“Just a bad dream.” He stared at his little girl, who made her best attempt at crawling. She buried her face in the blanket, hiked her knees up, and shoved off with her feet. For her efforts, she succeeded in doing nothing more than plopping onto her side. Her arms and legs flailed and she uttered frustrated baby talk. Doggedly, she tried again.

Claire sat motionless on a balled-up sleeping bag. Her eyes were moist. “Thank you, Will.”

William rolled to Claire. “Isn’t she the greatest? She’s beautiful like you. I just hope she doesn’t have your temper.”

Claire’s mouth dropped and she elbowed William in the ribs. He doubled over and feigned injury. When Claire bent over to check on him, he snatched her off the sleeping bag and tickled her. Her screams caused Gracie’s head to snap around and it teetered on her fragile neck. She smiled and the pacifier spat from her mouth, leaving in its wake a line of drool. William could see a glint of humor in Gracie’s eyes as she watched them tumbling on the ground beside her.

Suddenly, something crunched outside the tent. William froze in place. He strained to hear. Claire stared wide-eyed at him. A twig snapped. A boot crunched. The sound got closer. Claire scooped Gracie in her arms and moved behind William. The crunching drew closer. William’s heart beat against his sternum. A shadow suddenly fell on the wall of the tent and Claire buried her nails into William’s forearm. He braced himself…