Death Message

Chapter Eleven

Dawn agonizingly clawed its way free from the eastern horizon and cast the first dim haze of light through the fabric of Montana's tent. Disturbed by the inaugural illumination of daybreak, Maggie unconsciously adjusted her slumbering position and turned slowly onto her left side. At first, Maggie thought she was dreaming, but quickly realized the intermittent rustling sound was very real and close to where they were sleeping. She quietly lifted her head and listened more intently. She heard it again.

"Brad," Maggie whispered, "Brad, wake up."

Brad was still sound asleep, his back to Maggie's back. "Brad, wake up," Maggie whispered again. Brad rolled onto his back, lifted himself by his elbows, and turned his head toward his wife.

Maggie was still lying on her side, afraid to move, paralyzed by fear.

"Quiet, Brad," Maggie said, almost inaudibly. "Do you hear that?"

"Hear what?"

"That noise."

Brad listened intently but heard nothing. "You're dreaming, Maggie," he said softly, still honoring her 'quiet' request.

"Listen!" she snapped back quietly. Realizing Maggie was very tense and frightened, he turned his ear toward the side of the tent. They both lay motionless. Moments passed, nothing, not a sound, dead silence. Then he heard it, a soft scraping noise, almost as if someone was scratching on a rough surface. Then he heard a thump, a few seconds passed, another thump, a few more seconds, and yet another. Whoever it was, was close, very close, not more than a few feet from them.

"Brad, where's the gun?"

Brad's mind raced trying to remember, "It's in the Duffel bag," he said, so softly. Maggie had to ask again.

"Where?"

"In the Duffel bag."

The instant the words emerged from his mouth; they both understood the source of the scraping noise. Someone was searching through the Duffel bag, just feet from the tent. Brad and Maggie both wondered if the revolver Backpack had given them had been discovered. If not, maybe they had a chance. Brad racked his brain. Where had he put the bag before they had gone to bed? Was it to the right or the left of the entrance to the tent? He couldn't remember. Perhaps the element of surprise was on their side, he thought. Whoever it was, likely believed they were still sleeping. Where had he put the bag, to the right, or left? He labored and searched his mind, but he couldn't recall. Right? Left? Damn it! He knew that if he was lucky, he would only have one opportunity to get to the gun before whoever was invading their camp got to him. Just one chance for surprise, one second to snatch the bag, grab the gun, and what? What if they had guns? Would he be able to react fast enough to protect himself, protect Maggie? Maybe they had moved the bag? Maybe they had already found Bill's gun? Maybe they were going to shoot into the tent and kill them where they lay? God, what a nightmare! He had to act now. Right? Left? Brad slowly sat up and, as quietly as humanly possible, tediously began to inch the zipper from the entrance to the tent. He kept waiting for a gunshot to ring out, then realized he'd never hear the blast if it hit him first. He motioned for Maggie to curl up. The less of a target she made, the more likely they'd miss her. Maggie understood his signals and coiled into a fetal position, tears welling from her eyes. She was terrified more for Brad than for herself. How could this be happening? Another thump from outside jolted both of them. Maggie squeezed herself even tighter. Only a couple of inches left before Brad would explode through the flaps. Maggie didn't have to ask. She knew what he was going to do, what he had to do, and before she could stop him, he plunged through the entrance. The flaps closed behind him, and he was gone. Maggie could hear two, maybe three people struggling. Then, she heard a loud metallic-sounding crash, an earsplitting scream, and terrifying silence. It happened so quickly. Maggie had no time to think, no time to plan, she just reacted. Rolling onto her knees, she leaned back on her legs, thrust her hands outward, and vaulted through the flaps shrieking as she rose outside ready for combat.