Killing Hour - Lisa Gardner [52]
Life was about effort. Take your punishment like a man.
The thick canopy of trees gave way. His van suddenly burst into a clearing, where the dusky sky grew brighter and illuminated a scene straight out of a nightmare.
Yawning piles of sawdust stretched all the way up to the sky, still steaming from the compressed heat trapped in the middle and covered with a white film some people thought was dust, but was really a thin coating of fungus. To his left, ramshackle sheds with busted-out windows and teetering walls vainly attempted to shelter long conveyors lined with rusted belts and ending with giant saw blades. The teeth on the multiple blades appeared black in the fading light. Smeared with blood? Oil? It was anyone’s guess.
This place had finally been closed down a few years ago. Too late. Tucked away in this backwoods shithole, the mill had already spent twenty years polluting streams, killing off surface vegetation, and doing far greater damage beneath the earth.
He’d seen the mill in action when he was younger. Watched workers attack tree trunks with gas-powered chain saws. No one wore protective eye gear. Few bothered with hard hats. Men strode around in loose flannel shirts, the excess material just waiting to get caught beneath the right hungry blade.
Coffee cups were tossed straight to the ground. Crumpled-up Coke cans formed an expanse of mini landmines. Old saw blades were yanked off the equipment and carelessly tossed aside. Walk around unaware and scratch up your pant leg. Walk around too unaware, and lose a limb.
That’s the kind of place this was. And the mountains of sawdust had yet to spontaneously combust. Once that happened, there would be no hope for anything around here. Or anyone.
The stupid fucks. They destroyed the land, then called it quits, and had the gall to think that made things right.
The man got out of his van, reenergized by his outrage, and the bugs instantly swarmed his face. Mosquitoes, yellow flies, tiny gnats. They came en masse, attracted by the smell of fresh blood and salty sweat. The man waved his hand around his head but knew it was useless. Dusk was the hour for mosquitoes. And also for the brown bats, which were already swooping overhead and preparing to feast.
In the back of the van, the girl didn’t stir. He’d administered 3.5 mg of Ativan four hours ago. She should be out for another two hours, if not four. That was important for the journey ahead.
First, he took care of himself. He donned a pair of blue coveralls. The material was a synthetic, thin but rubbery to the touch. As a general rule, he scorned unnatural fibers, but it was unavoidable here. The latest water test he’d done had revealed a pH level of 2.5; in other words, this water was so acidic, it would literally eat away cotton and peel away skin. Synthetic suit, it was.
Over his coveralls, the man donned a pair of canvas boots, then a thick pair of gloves. Around his waist went his care pack—extra water, saltine crackers, waterproof matches, a Swiss army knife, a handheld LED light, a compass, one extra loop of nylon rope, and two extra clamps.
Next, moving quickly, he turned his attention to the girl. This one was a brunette, not that it really mattered to him. She wore some kind of skimpy, yellow-flowered dress that did little to cover her long, tanned limbs. She looked like a runner, or some kind of athlete. Maybe that would help her in the days to come. Maybe it wouldn’t.
He gritted his teeth, bent down, and hefted her unconscious form up over his shoulder. His arms screamed while his back groaned. She was not a heavy girl, but he was not a big man, and his body was already fatigued by forty-eight hours of intensive effort. Then he was standing, and the worst of the strain was over.
She got a suit of her own. For the entry. He dressed her the same way one might attend a doll. Flopping each limb into place. Tucking feet and hands where appropriate. Snapping the suit up tight.
Then he strapped her to the body board. At the last minute, he remembered her purse and the jug of water.