The Cave.
Posted: Wed May 24, 2017 12:02 pm
''OK boys, these are the rules. You need to take a p***, you let me know. You need to take a dump, you let me know. If its a dump, then you take this.'' Butcher holds up the short handled back packer spade towards his three charges. ''You dig a hole, foot deep, dump in the hole. Fill in the hole, patting the earth back down. If you do not follow these instructions to the letter and leave the dump hole uncovered, then a grisly will sniff you out and be up behind you and swipe your balls clean off. Any questions?''
''What do we wipe with?'' John asked a bit timidly, holding a shaky hand at shoulder height.
''You grab a handful of what natures dumped onto the ground. Three fistfuls should result in a clean wipe.'' His face had a look of hardened steel as he glared at the three. He pulled out a roll of toilet tissue from his back pack, holding it up in the air. This, arse wipes, is what you use to wipe your arse in the twenty first century. Or did you think that I carried a friggin' fanny washing bidet around with me for you city pussies?'' There was no reply from the three now worried looking trekkers.
Garry was the next to raise his hand in question.
''is it... I mean... are we safe out here in the middle of nowhere? Just saying, shouldn't we have guns or something? You know... in case of a bear attack...
''… or snakes maybe.'' Joey added, his hand suddenly shooting up as an after thought.
Butcher sighed out loud. ''Jesus H friggin' Christ almighty.'' He stabbed a gnarled finger towards Garry. ''How old are you son?''
''Twe... twenty eight sir.''
Butcher turned towards Joey, his jabbing finger targeting him this time. ''You?''
''Same as Garry sir.''
'' What about you arse wipe?'' He threw the toilet roll at him, it bounced off his chest and unrolled as it traveled down the hill.
''Twenty one... sir.''
''OK then, final rules. First off, I'm no ones friggin' sir, not anymore that is. Its ether just Butcher, or at a push, Mr. secondly, if you three paying customers ain't friggin' retards, then quit with the hands up, unless you want to get to know Dorothy.'' Butcher withdrew his enormously long, sharp looking hunters knife from its sheath. ''And she trims them fingers down to the knuckles. If you see a snake, scream like a retard and stay put, old Dorothy here will sort it out.'' To demonstrate this he flung the knife at a nearby tree. It made a thudding sound as it embedded itself into the timber, quivering. ''As for bears, if you see it, stay still and don't make a sound, if it sees you and starts to run towards you, first off, **** yourself then say a last prayer to your mammie. And there aint' no guns for retard pussies.''
The three trekkers all looked at each other. They had gone white with signs of nausea showing.
''Come on, lets set out, it'll be dark soon, bear time. Arse wipe, pull Dorothy out of the tree. Don't forget to wipe her clean. And retrieve the friggin' arse wipes.''
They had walked for the rest of the day, all three suffering from minor aches and pains, blistered heels and feet. Suddenly Butcher stopped, declaring that this clearing they had entered was going to be the camp for the night. Joey was given the job of clearing a spot for the fire pit, John was sent to gather rocks for the fire-break, a short scream could be heard as well as his grunting as he picked up the stones needed. Garry was busy collecting the kindling and dead wood.
As John reentered the camp, struggling under the weight of stones and sweating with it, Joey asked what the scream was about.
''You wouldn't believe the size of the spiders here, it was this big.'' He held his hands apart to indicate the exaggerated size of the arachnid, forgetting he supported the rocks. They cascaded down onto his feet with him doing what looked like to the others as a rendition of the Irish jig.
''Friggin' H Christ.'' Butcher muttered under his breath.
As Garry looked over towards the commotion, he saw something on the far ridge, high up.
''Hy guys, check out that mean looking cave at the top of the ridge. Could be something interesting in it. Any chance of going up there Mr. Butcher.''
Butcher didn't bother to look towards the cave, he carried on sorting through his back pack.
''First of all its a good days hike to reach it. Secondly you need rock climbing skills and the right gear, thirdly its against National Parks rules, and last but not least, its the home of one of the meanest old grizzlies in the area. So whats your guess as to the answer to your dumb question?''
''I guess that's a no then.'' Joey replied.
The three were amazed at what Butcher pulled out of his backpack, although much larger than theirs, it seemed to hold a complete kitchen. Pots, pans, coffee jug, cutlery. Plus what seemed to be packages of food. Soon they had a good fire going with a jug of coffee on the boil. Their food had been basic, beans, what looked like some sort of dried meat which had simmered with the beans, and eggs. How the eggs survived not getting broken or cracked during the journey surprised them all. Butcher eyed the three as he picked at a bit of caught meet in his front teeth using Dorothy as a toothpick. John pointed over to Butchers long barrelled rifle.
''I see that you have a Jackson and Beal long site single shot snipers rifle Mr. Butcher. Bit over kill for trekking I'd of thought.''
Butcher looked coldly towards John. ''You know your rifles arse wipe.''
''My dad was into those things, had pictures all over his den walls.''
''But not you?'' Butcher asked as he finally hooked out the piece of trapped meat. He licked it off the tip.
''No. Never had any interest in weapons. The government should place tougher restrictions on who owns them, going off how many mass shootings there have been over the years. I mean, who in their right mind would want a fully automatic weapon, saying its just for sport?''
''Like me with this little lady.'' He fondly patted his snipers rifle.
''Well yes. I mean, what's the need of one here?''
''This little lady served me well in Vietnam, the first real war since two ended. I was Sargent of a sniper unit. Not one of those friggin' slit eyed yellow tree monkeys escaped my sight. Thirty one confirmed kills. Accurate over two thousand yards, dependent on who's pulling the trigger. So when I came home, she came with me.'' Butcher poured himself another coffee, hawking up a gob of phlegm at the same time. It hissed as it hit the hot ashes. ''And the last kill was the one to beat the rest. The other side had snipers, some good, most crap. They made easy targets, but this last kill, well, he was good. Took out two of my best men and Christ only knows how many infantry. He was always on the move, he shot, killed and went. Most others would stay put, soon giving their position away, so they lived a short life. Anyways, I eventually worked out his pattern and took a shot at his next position. Six stinking insect biting days and nights I laid concealed in the undergrowth, little food and water, then I saw it, a slight flash as his rifle sight was hit by sunlight as he targeted a nearby supply camp. I took aim, pulled the trigger, watching through my sight as his head exploded into pieces.''
''Wow, some story.'' Joey stated with admiration in his voice. ''Is that how you got your name, the Butcher?''
''No, that's down to Dorothy here. Some twenty years ago when hunting was hunting, using this little lady,'' Butcher caressed the rifle. ''Well before those animal rights f*****'* put their noses into things that didn't concern them, I was stalking a bear that had attacked a couple of campers, on her trail for over a week. Suddenly she burst out of the bushes, a mean twelve hundred pound load of killer. Had no time to raise my rifle, but was quick enough to unsheathe Dorothy. B****** near ripped me in pieces as we wrestled with each other, but I soon sliced through her neck, and once that was done, the rest was easy. Buried Dorothy up to the hilt in her head, then I sliced her into pieces. Got a nice bear rug in front of my fire for my efforts back at the cabin. Plus six scars across the chest. Remind me to show them to you tomorrow. I've got some interesting ones.''
''I think that we'll give the scar tours a miss, but thanks for the offer.You seem to enjoy killing, why call your knife Dorothy Mr Butcher?'' John asked, you could detect the nervousness in his question, he was obviously unsure of the reaction from Butcher.
Butcher held the knife with its flat edge facing the three, turning it slowly, watching the firelight shine off the blade.
''Its not about the killing... well some, its about the hunt. The animal your hunting has the advantage of these three things.'' Butcher used the knifes tip to indicate his eyes, nose and ears. ''These are what it uses to hunt and stalk you. But we have this.'' Again he uses the knife to indicate his brain. ''No animal on earth can counter the brain of a professional hunter. We can stalk the pray just as quietly, hide out for days if need be, set traps and plan. We think, they do not, they just hunt and destroy to ether eat or protect their territory. You can't have one without the other. Especially in terrain such as this. But at the same time you keep your wits about you, never underestimate the pray, especially when its bear. As to why I named this blade Dorothy. In memory of my wife, long since gone back to the earth. I can see her now as clearly as I did on her last day. Standing in front of our cabin, sun at her back, wearing the green, yellow and blue cotton summer dress that she loved. As the sun shone, so did the beautiful hourglass outline of her youthful figure through the thin cloth. She would keep this blade shining like the sun, even making sure its edge was kept keen. And there's few hunters that would allow another's hands on his blade.''
''Is that why you became a hunter then? Because of the Vietnam war?'' Joey asked.
''No, I come from three generations of hunters. My grandfather and his father. All hunters of sorts, but on the seas, not the land. My grandfather had a small fishing trawler down on the East coast. My father taking over from him. He would be gone for days, hunting the best areas for his next catch. He could read the waters as easily as I can the land. But then the money people moved in with bigger and better equipped ships, fishing the seas empty. Eventually there was no money in it for the likes of him. So he ended up taking tourists around the bay on friggin' site seeing tours. Broke him in the end.''
''Just like you have had to do.'' John stated. ''Having to change directions when the anti hunting laws came into affect. Must be a big wrench having to rely on these survivalist and character building courses you and others like you need to run to survive.''
''Its all about being able to adapt arse wipe..'' He cocked his own arse to one side, letting a long fart slide out.
The boys looked at each other, Joey getting into a fit of laughter towards Butchers continual bad manners.
''Just like Blazing Saddles,'' He laughed out the words.
''How about you City slicker's? Any of you got wives?''
''John here is divorced.'' Joey indicating his friend with a sideways flick of his right thumb. ''Me and Garry have girlfriends.''
''Sounds about right.'' Butcher remarked, looking towards John. John ignoring the remark. ''What's with the girlie bangles you all have on your wrists?''
''The blue ones are in support of gay rights, the yellow for endangered species, and the red for the persecuted people of the planet.'' Garry stated with an air of pride to his voice.
'' Friggin' H Christ, the three of you about cover it all. Gay rights my arse.'' Butcher lobbed another hawk onto the fire.
''Your homophobic then Mr. Butcher? They're just normal everyday people like you and I.'' John stated in defense of his belief.
''Like others? They may seem to be on the outside, but normal? Jack s*** they are. Wouldn't have one sat at my table. All those diseases and germs inside them. What's it they call 'em? Aids? HIV, Hepatitis C and all the other crap they have.''
''Its a medical fact that you would not catch anything from having a gay person sat at your dining table. More likely getting a dose of food poisoning than Aids.'' John stated flatly in a dismissive tone.
''That so? Let me tell you a medical fact. Some years ago an old trapper buddy of mine fell down a rivine Broke both legs, left shoulder. The Doc said he would survive, even though he was six days before he was found. No food, no water. Just his belief in God and a determination to live. Old Bo never drank, or smoked tobacco in his life. Kept his body clean and pure. That's what saved him. No crap floating around inside his body. So don't tell me about medical facts. Friggin' queers. They should be on your friggin' endangered list.'' He punctuated this statement by lobbing another ball of phlegm onto the fire.
''Well, you can't win an argument with a homophobic bigot. So we will just have to agree to not agree.'' John stood stating he was taking a p*** and walked out of the firelight towards the woods. He turned to face Butcher. ''If that's OK with you Mr Butcher.''
Butcher took no notice, he was now whittling away at a piece of wood, the blade Dorothy making easy work of it. ''Refill the coffee jug one of you.'' He stated flatly towards the flames.
The fresh pot of coffee was on the boil, Butcher still whittling. He didn't look up as he asked an open question.
''So what is it that you boys work at?''
''We work in IT, developing the next generation of Sat Com phones.''
Butcher didn't look up as he spoke. ''So is that it? You think that I'm so stupid that you have to spell out the littlest words for me to understand?'' He slammed the blade into the log he was sitting on. His cold eyes moved across the three nervous faces.
''No... no Mr. Butcher, IT stands for Information Technology. No offense meant.'' Joey was visibly shaking as he first looked at the embedded knife, then Butcher. He had the thought of running for his life if Butchers hand suddenly clutched the knifes handle.
Butcher looked at the three scared faces and grinned. ''I know what IT stands for, just yanking your chains. So, sounds like you boys earn a lot of green backs with this designing work?''
''Over a hundred grand a year with bonuses.'' Garry stated. His demeanor showing that he enjoyed the money as he rubbed his hands together.
''I suppose you all drive around in those expensive flashy sports cars then.'' Butcher was inspecting his piece of whittling. It resembled nothing that the boys could recognize.
''Not so, there's only John that has a car, a Mustang. Its easier and quicker to navigate the roads on bikes. More healthy as well. You tend not to get much exercise sat at a workbench ten hours a day.'' Joey informed him.
''I had a Mustang once. Rode her for twelve years. Never had a problem.''
''What model and year?'' John asked with interest.
'' The four legged, one tail variety.'' Butch stated matter of factley.
Butcher tossed another couple of logs onto the near dead fire, sparks flew up and around the seating area, the three boys throwing their heads back to dodge the shower. Butcher seemed unconcerned as a few settled on his shoulders and legs.
''Some five years ago I was trapping furs in those mountains at your backs.'' He jabbed in the general direction with the point of his blade.
All three turned their heads to look towards the indicated location. But saw nothing in the darkness. Butcher just looked at them and shook his head slowly from side to side.
''That year had been a bad one snow wise, but the returns on the furs made it worthwhile. Snow was deep, blizzards blinding. Plus the beavers are a dam nuisance constantly blocking up the waterways so it makes sense to thin 'em out once in a while. Anyhow, my horse took a tumble in a deep rut, broke her leg and one of mine. Had to put her out of her misery, single bullet to the head.''
''Wow.'' Gerry issued the word slowly. ''How did you manage to survive with all that snow and freezing weather?''
''Well, first off I knew other hunters would be passing in a couple of days or so, so I did the only thing I could do to wait the time out.''
''Make an igloo and get a fire going.'' Joey interrupted as if he had first hand knowledge of such things.
''You d***. Its blowing a blizzard with snow and there ain't no dry wood. Numb nuts.'' Garry scolded him.
''Just saying... that's all.'' Joey muttered in obvious embarrassment.
''Jesus H Christ!'' Butcher shouted in exasperation towards the three. ''The only thing that I could do was for my horse to pay me one last service. I cut her open from head to tail, dragged out all what was inside then crawled inside her to keep warm and the weather away from freezing my nuts off. I lay there for three days until Buck and Sandy Corbett found me. Told me that I was lucky as they nearly missed the blooded entrails that I had laid out as a signal. Seemed to take a week getting the stink off me once back. And those mother f*****'* at the Medical Center burnt all my best winter gear as they said it was too contaminated to leave on the ward. Bad enough loosing the hunting season.''
Joey and Garry attempted to halt their gagging reflexes at this information.
''I think we smell more bull s*** than horse blood.'' John stated quietly out the corner of his mouth to his friends. ''So, what's happening tomorrow?'' John asked in his normal tone. The way Butcher looked at him gave John the distinct and uneasy feeling that Butcher may just have heard his sarcastic pun.
''You'll be on your own, following three separate trails. No doubt you'll all end up where you shouldn't be, lost, bear lunch or drowned in a creek.'' Butcher stated matter of factly, but looking directly towards John.
''Do many of your clients get lost?'' Garry inquired, attempting to draw Butchers attention away from his friend, as he too had seen Butchers eyes lock onto John, silently hoping for a no on that point as he spat a mouth full of bile out.
Butcher slowly dragged his eyes away from John's position on the long log the three occupied.
''Some get lost because they are stupid, thinking that their trail leaders are talking a load of horse s***.'' Again Butcher made a quick glance towards John, then back onto the fire. ''Others get lost because, for reasons only known to themselves, want to get lost. Others, only a few, just disappear without trace. But up till now, non of my clients, as you term yourselves. These little sorties I get paid to organize are solely for the purpose of character building, as deemed necessary by whoever pays your wage each month. And from the conversation I had over the phone with your team leader at Ellco Technology , you all would benefit more with a hard kicking up the friggin' arse.''
''That's a bit harsh, you know next to nothing about us.'' Joey protested.
''That so? I know that two years ago on your first survivalist course you managed to burn the entire encampment down after you drank all the beer you had managed to smuggle in, and smoked so much weed that you wouldn't of felt yourselves on fire.'' Butchers voice oozed disrespect at them.
''In our defense it was not our weed. The fire was started accidentally because the fire hadn't been extinguished correctly. But we did have beer. But only one can each.'' John grinned as he ticked each item off on the fingers of his left hand.
''You think that its funny starting a forest fire? Putting folks lives at risk because you didn't observe the most important, yet basic rule of a camp site? Not to mention the devastating impact of the wildlife.''
''Over hunting can have the same sort of impact, although not quite on the same grand scale.'' John stated.
His two friends stared at John in disbelief, Joey elbowing john in the side of his ribs fearing what Butchers reaction would be to this obvious come back towards Butchers earlier comments towards John. Butcher went quiet, just staring into the flames, as if contemplating.
''The last forest fire we had in these parts was around fifteen years back. Destroyed thousands of acres of forest, countless animals. S***, even the millions of insects that were lost were all part of the needs and survival of these forest areas. Cost the lives of three good volunteer fire fighters. All married, all had kids. The investigators came to the conclusion that it had been a deliberate act of arson or wanton carelessness. There had been reports that a group of city kids had left a number of camp fires smoldering as they trekked across the park. Never found 'em. Although I looked high and low. Would of skinned the b******'* smooth if I had of done.''
Once again Butcher went quiet.
''One of those that died trying to quell the flames was my younger brother. Bill.''
The three remained silent upon hearing these last words. Not knowing how to respond, and thinking that it was probably best not too.
Any how's, that was then, this is now, so lets get onto last years s*** heap of nostalgic memories shall we? Six of you get placed on a remote island. Simple remit, survive the next week on what you can catch in the sea, pull off the trees and dig out of the ground. Christ, so I'm told they even gave you a friggin' safe to eat and do not eat list and a friggin' radio in case any of you got home sick. So what do you do? One of the six brings along their friggin pet mongoose because it was full of pups and they didn't want to leave it at home, a species that is not indigenous to that island, and is a natural predator to half the wildlife established there. It could take years to eradicate the furry little f*****'*. I tell you this boys, you may be Gods gift in the electronics business, but this is your last chance of survival here. C*** this one up and you'll be selling burgers for the rest of your natural. No wonder they upped the fees to four grand each. Going off from what I've seen and heard so far, I short changed myself.''
''It wasn't our fault, it belonged to one of the girls with us. We knew nothing about it until it happened.'' Joey protested.
''That's right.'' Garry confirmed. ''Mary Connolly out of logistics. Sandwich short of a picnic.''
''Nice top rack though.'' Joey added as an after thought.
The new day dawned, six o'clock came and Butcher was banging a pan with a wooden spoon.
''Shift your arses retards, I told you last night to be up and ready at four. You missed breakfast, which I must say was very tasty, coffee's gone cold and there aint' no fresh drinking water left as some ares wipe forgot to fill the container from last night..'' He glared over towards John as he untangled himself from the sleeping bag.
''Sorry'' He mumbled.
''Don't say no sorry to me, I got plenty. Right then.'' Butcher began. ''This is now base camp. The three of you are to take the trail over to your left. Walk for about a hundred yards and you come to a three way junction. Nailed on the trees are coloured circles. Red, blue and green. Each of you retards get a colour sticker.''
He walked over to the trekkers and peeled off each of the three colours from a sheet. He positioned each pad onto their foreheads and hit them hard with the palm of his gnarled hand to make sure they stuck, a little to hard for the boys liking, but non dared object.
''Each of you.'' Butcher continued. ''Will follow the trail with your corresponding colour, now... ''Butcher stopped as he saw Joey's hand waving in the air. ''What's the friggin' matter now? You need to take a p*** or somethin?''
''How do we see our colours if they're stuck to our foreheads .Mr. Butcher.''
''Work it out for yourselves. D*** wad. As you follow the trails it will pay to keep your eyes open at every forth marker. There will be signs, if you look properly, that will indicate where I placed a fresh bottle of drinking water. Miss the signs, miss the drink. The hike is around ten hours and will eventually bring you back here. I will be keeping an eye on all three of you, I'll see you, but you wont see me, so don't think about being a clever retard by hiding close by and showing up ten hours later looking all fresh and dry. Or else Dorothy will be playing a game of stretch those legs.''
''What about food?'' John asked.
''What about it?''
''Will that be with the water?''
''No, it'll be here when you get back. Last one home gets to lick the pans clean. Now get your arses moving.''
John was the first to arrive back at camp, fourteen hours later. He was panting like a dog, an empty water bottle clutched in his hand. As he entered the site he collapsed into a sweaty heap. Butcher grinned to himself as he tossed a fresh bottle over to him.
''You took your friggin' time.'' He stated flatly.
''Got... gotta bit lost, and I couldn't find the water at number two spot.'' He gasped.
''There wasn't any. All part of the challenge. Well, at least you made it back first, something to tell your kids when you have any. Get cleaned up and help yourself to chow. There's a cold beer for the winner as well.''
Some two hours later Joey was next to enter the camp, looking just as disheveled as John had. But at least he still had water in his bottle, or so it looked like he did.
''Just about to send out a search party. See any sings of retard number three on your travels?''
''No, non. It was difficult following the markers. I forgot to mention that I was colour blind. I wear special glasses at work so I can tell the difference in the wire colouring. Managed to find a trail that lead me hear. I was shitting it. Couldn't find the last three waters, so then I remembered a survivalist program on TV about a guy that got lost in the desert. Had no water so drank his own p***. Salty, but not too bad as I have a low sense of taste.'' He held up the bottle towards the setting sun. inspecting the contents as if it contained a fine vintage wine.
''Well you did OK in the end. Well done. Get yourself some food and as you used you brain for something other than keeping your ears apart, take a beer as a reward.''
They waited another three hours with still no sign of Garry, and the sun was starting to set. Butcher was getting some of his gear together, When he seemed to be finished he came over to John and Joey.
''Get some shut eye. I'm going to follow his trail, see if I can find him. The retards probably fell down a disused mine vent or somethin'. There's a Rangers station close by so if there no sign or sight of him I'll radio it in and organize a search party. Just hope he isn't' going to be my first loss. That would **** me off.''
Joey and John got little sleep that night, even though they were exhausted enough from the previous days trials to have slept for a week under normal circumstances. But these where not normal by any means. Their best friend was lost and could be badly injured someplace out of sight and hearing range.
As the two finally crawled out of their sleeping bags, they saw Butcher sat at the fire he had rekindled. A hot cup of coffee was clutched in his hands. He looked up as the two approached him.
''Get some coffee down you. Friggin' freezing out there last night.''
''Any signs of Garry?'' John asked with hope in his voice.
''Non. I radioed the Park Rangers. They'll have search parties out by now.''
Joey noticed that Butcher had blood on his boots and trouser legs.
''Wheres the blood from.'' He asked.
Butcher looked down to where Joey was indicating with his gaze.
''It's not your friends if that's what your worried about. Ran into my cousin Darrel. He's the Green Mountains town sheriff. Came across him on the lower road on the way to the Ranger station. Some retard in one of those big four by's you city folk seem think they need in this park had hit a stag and left him for dead in the road. I helped Darrel shift it over. He found the f*****'* that drove into it though. Behind the Sheriffs office bars now waiting for the court hearing to find them their fixed1,000 dollars each penalty. Waste of a good hunt and kill for next season if you ask me.''
''So what happens next? What do we do?'' John asked. ''Joey and myself want to join in searching for Garry.''
''That won't happen. You'll only get in the way, or get lost or injured yourselves. We're already stretched out as it is. Haven't got the man power that knows these areas well enough to split them up looking for another two city folk know it all's. Sheriff Darrel's on his way. Short walk down that hill over there,'' Butcher indicated the direction using Dorothy as he had again taken up his whittling, ''Is the lower road. You'll be dropped off at the bus station. You head back home and wait for any information from the Sheriffs office. Don't worry your heads non. If he's out there, then the search party or the dogs will soon find him.''
Just at that point, as if on que, the Sheriff entered the clearing. The two boys noted that he too had blood on him. A lot more than Butcher had.
''Morning boys, Butch. Sorry about your friend. Don't worry yourselves, he cant of got far.''
''No news then?'' Butcher asked.''
''Its too early on in the search Butch. Maybe in a couple of hours or so. Anyways, you two boys come with me, just have to stop off home first to change into a clean uniform. Doesn't look to good if the Sheriffs seen covered in blood, Stags or not.''
Even though the two boys protested that they didn't want to go back home, it all fell on deaf ears as they were unceremoniously ushered down the hill towards the sheriffs Land Rover, Butcher trowing their back packs after them.
It was eight days into the search for Garry. Both John and Joey had constantly been on the phone for any information, as had Garry's parents and close work colleagues and friends. But they all received the same advice. Stay home and let those that know their job do it unhindered.
John and Joey had decided to take no notice of the advice, they now sat at the old base camp resting before they set off on their chosen rout.
''You sure that we're doing the right thing John? We could be in deep **** if we're caught out here, and this place gives me the creeps.''
''Look around you Joey. There's no sight or sound of anyone. There is no search going on, for whatever reason. Something not right about it all.''
John started to pull stuff out of his backpack as Joey took a swig of water. He unfolded a sheet of paper and held it in front of him.
''We could be going round in circles for the two days we have. We'll probably get lost. Or even worse, attacked by bears.'' Joey had genuine fear in his voice as his eyes darted back and forth across the forests edge.
''I downloaded this from the internet. An overshot of this area. Then, when you place the one I downloaded of Butchers web page, it shows clearly the three coloured routs we took. Now look where Garry's red trail took him, right across the base of the cave he showed interest in.''
John traced the red trail with his finger to indicate it to Joey.
''He wouldn't of gone looking in the cave John, not after Butcher told us about the bear in it. And we should of told someone that we were coming back to look for him.''
''There is no bear Joey, never was. There hasn't been any bears in this area since we were born. Butcher was lying to us for whatever reasons. Didn't you notice? There was not one warning notice anywhere stating that there was any bears to be aware of.''
The two boys took up their packs and started the long haul up the track, following the same red markers that their friend Garry had. It took them four hours to reach the base of the steep trail that could be seen heading towards the caves entrance. The hike up the trail was nothing like the difficult skill requiring clime that Butcher had told them. More lies. As the two entered the cave, the sun behind them illuminating the inside. Both stood frozen to the spot as their sight took in what was before them. There were piles of human remains, some whole, some just parts. Some were decomposing, others just dried out bones. There was a pile of rucksacks in one far corner, clothes and personal items in another. Cameras, keys, sunglasses shoes littered the floor and rough cut wooden frames that had some sort of material stretched across each one from side to side. On closer inspection, it was now obvious to both boys it was human skin. One of the frames still had fresh blood at its base. But now both were looking at the same spot. Against the far wall, propped up in a sitting position, was the badly mutilated body of their friend Garry. Both the boys retched at the same time, a combination of the stench, visual impact on their senses, and the discovery of their friends remains. They could do nothing to stem the vomit and bile from flowing freely from their mouths. As Joey spat the last from his mouth, he placed his shaking hand on Johns's shoulder, pointing at a pile of dust covered bones in another area of the cave. The clothing could still be clearly seen.
''John, remember what Butcher told us about his wife Dorothy. The way the sunlight made her figure stand out and the dress she always wore? Flowered cotton, green, yellow and blue flowers. That must be her. Same dress. Her heads missing.''
''Your right boys, that's all that's left of my sister Dorothy.''
The boys spun around, seeing Sheriff Darrel was stood there.
''Thank God your here Sheriff, we found Garry, and that's Butchers wife, We recognizer the dress.'' Joey was almost crying out the words.
''Butch and her was trying for a kid for years. Butch went over to Clarkson Medical Center for all the tests. Never told Dorothy as he genuinely thought he was OK, that it was a problem Dorothy had. Anyways, the tests confirmed that Butch was firing blanks, they couldn't have kids, he kept this sad news to himself. So, when a couple of years later Dorothy suddenly announced that she was expecting, well, Butch just knew...
Sheriff Darrel stopped talking, head down as if in sorrow at the loss.
''Sheriff, our friends body is here. There must be twelve others as well. We need to get help.'' Joey stated in a pleading voice.
''Seventeen altogether, give or take the odd leg.'' Darrel stated flatly.
''You knew about this place?'' John shouted in an angry tone. ''And you did nothing? You sick son of a bitch.''
''Course I knew, s***, I put 'em here. Your friend was a noisy critter. Crying like a baby, p****** himself, then s******* his pants, just like the little baby he was. So I had to slice his tongue out, quiet him down a bit. Then he started to gurgle like a baby.'' The Sheriff started to laugh at his ghoulish description.
''What... what do you mean you put them here?'' Joey stuttered.
Just then another stepped into the cave, it was Butcher. Both he and Darrel slowly drew their long, sharp hunting knives out of their sheaths.
''Welcome back boys. I see that you discovered our trophy room. You two up for a little hunting.''
The three fifty seven slug slammed into Butchers chest, it severed his spinal cord exiting out his back. The Sheriff received one to his lower abdomen. Butcher was dead before he it the ground face down, but Sheriff Darrel slid slowly down the wall clutching his stomach.
''You son of a bitch, you shot me.'' Blood had started to trickle out the sides of his fingers.
''Jesus John, you had a gun! Why didn't you tell me?'' Joey was doing circles around the cave, pulling his fingers through his hair.
''And have you shouting shot 'em John, shoot 'em. We'd have been sliced and diced before I could pull it out of the back of my jeans.''
''What about the Sheriff? He's still breathing.''
''As was intended. Although it was meant to be for this heap of ****. Didn't figger the Sheriff was in on it. A shot like that, certain spot to the gut, about the slowest most painful death there is from a bullet. Just like my dad told me before we set out to come back here. The last thing he will be looking at is the remains of Garry.''
''What do you mean your dad told you?''
''That first night we got back, me and dad went over to Garry's dads place. Just to console him at first, but when I started to tell him about Butcher and what I had seen.... Well, it was obvious things just didn't add up the way they should off.''
John crouched down in front of the semi prone body of the Sheriff, He tapped his chest with one of the discarded knives.
''You see Sheriff, hunters like you and your friend here are becoming an endangered species, the only difference between you two, your both now extinct. Or soon will be.'' He stood, throwing the knife to one side.
''What sort of things?'' Joey asked, still unable to take his eyes off the dying Sheriff.
''Remember at the camp fire and I noted the snipers rifle? I could see it was a make up, good job, but I've seen so many of the real thing on my dads wall that I just knew it was a fake. No such thing as a Jackson and beal snipers rifle. But this little baby is the real deal, Smith and Wesson three fifty seven snub nosed magnum, five shot. Also, remember when he through that last log on the fire, all those sparks flying about? Well I noticed one went straight into his right eye, never hollered or batted that eye. Then when I looked closer, you could see the fire reflected off it. Like his rifle, it was a fake glass eye. You ever here of a one eyed sniper Joey?''
''Wow John, that was clever. Just like that British dude on the TV, Sherlock Holmes.''
Just then Darrel gave a low gurgling noise, blood was slowly coming out of his mouth.
''Now who's gurgling like a baby turd brain? Joey spat at him, but missed. ''So what do we do now? just leave 'em here?
''No, we head off down and find that Rangers station and let them know what happened.''
As the two walked down towards the road, Joey stopped and placed his hand on his friends shoulder to halt his progress.
''Do you think that maybe they'll make a movie about us? Or on the news at least.'' Joey asked his friend in an excited voice.
''Who knows, maybe they will, maybe they wont.''
''I hope they do, then perhaps Mary Connolly will say yes for the fourth time of me asking to go on a date.''
''Joey, the reason that she declined your request the first three times, is because she's gay. Why do think it was her handing out all those gay rights bracelets?''
''I didn't think about why. Just thought she was helping out. Guess that's a no starter then.''
Both boys walked in silence for a while until Joey spoke quietly.
''I'm going to miss Garry, he was a good friend.''
''Me too joey, me too.''
''Do you think that I could have a go with the gun before we reach the Rangers station John?
John ignored the request and carried on walking?
''Oh well, guess that's another no.''
''What do we wipe with?'' John asked a bit timidly, holding a shaky hand at shoulder height.
''You grab a handful of what natures dumped onto the ground. Three fistfuls should result in a clean wipe.'' His face had a look of hardened steel as he glared at the three. He pulled out a roll of toilet tissue from his back pack, holding it up in the air. This, arse wipes, is what you use to wipe your arse in the twenty first century. Or did you think that I carried a friggin' fanny washing bidet around with me for you city pussies?'' There was no reply from the three now worried looking trekkers.
Garry was the next to raise his hand in question.
''is it... I mean... are we safe out here in the middle of nowhere? Just saying, shouldn't we have guns or something? You know... in case of a bear attack...
''… or snakes maybe.'' Joey added, his hand suddenly shooting up as an after thought.
Butcher sighed out loud. ''Jesus H friggin' Christ almighty.'' He stabbed a gnarled finger towards Garry. ''How old are you son?''
''Twe... twenty eight sir.''
Butcher turned towards Joey, his jabbing finger targeting him this time. ''You?''
''Same as Garry sir.''
'' What about you arse wipe?'' He threw the toilet roll at him, it bounced off his chest and unrolled as it traveled down the hill.
''Twenty one... sir.''
''OK then, final rules. First off, I'm no ones friggin' sir, not anymore that is. Its ether just Butcher, or at a push, Mr. secondly, if you three paying customers ain't friggin' retards, then quit with the hands up, unless you want to get to know Dorothy.'' Butcher withdrew his enormously long, sharp looking hunters knife from its sheath. ''And she trims them fingers down to the knuckles. If you see a snake, scream like a retard and stay put, old Dorothy here will sort it out.'' To demonstrate this he flung the knife at a nearby tree. It made a thudding sound as it embedded itself into the timber, quivering. ''As for bears, if you see it, stay still and don't make a sound, if it sees you and starts to run towards you, first off, **** yourself then say a last prayer to your mammie. And there aint' no guns for retard pussies.''
The three trekkers all looked at each other. They had gone white with signs of nausea showing.
''Come on, lets set out, it'll be dark soon, bear time. Arse wipe, pull Dorothy out of the tree. Don't forget to wipe her clean. And retrieve the friggin' arse wipes.''
They had walked for the rest of the day, all three suffering from minor aches and pains, blistered heels and feet. Suddenly Butcher stopped, declaring that this clearing they had entered was going to be the camp for the night. Joey was given the job of clearing a spot for the fire pit, John was sent to gather rocks for the fire-break, a short scream could be heard as well as his grunting as he picked up the stones needed. Garry was busy collecting the kindling and dead wood.
As John reentered the camp, struggling under the weight of stones and sweating with it, Joey asked what the scream was about.
''You wouldn't believe the size of the spiders here, it was this big.'' He held his hands apart to indicate the exaggerated size of the arachnid, forgetting he supported the rocks. They cascaded down onto his feet with him doing what looked like to the others as a rendition of the Irish jig.
''Friggin' H Christ.'' Butcher muttered under his breath.
As Garry looked over towards the commotion, he saw something on the far ridge, high up.
''Hy guys, check out that mean looking cave at the top of the ridge. Could be something interesting in it. Any chance of going up there Mr. Butcher.''
Butcher didn't bother to look towards the cave, he carried on sorting through his back pack.
''First of all its a good days hike to reach it. Secondly you need rock climbing skills and the right gear, thirdly its against National Parks rules, and last but not least, its the home of one of the meanest old grizzlies in the area. So whats your guess as to the answer to your dumb question?''
''I guess that's a no then.'' Joey replied.
The three were amazed at what Butcher pulled out of his backpack, although much larger than theirs, it seemed to hold a complete kitchen. Pots, pans, coffee jug, cutlery. Plus what seemed to be packages of food. Soon they had a good fire going with a jug of coffee on the boil. Their food had been basic, beans, what looked like some sort of dried meat which had simmered with the beans, and eggs. How the eggs survived not getting broken or cracked during the journey surprised them all. Butcher eyed the three as he picked at a bit of caught meet in his front teeth using Dorothy as a toothpick. John pointed over to Butchers long barrelled rifle.
''I see that you have a Jackson and Beal long site single shot snipers rifle Mr. Butcher. Bit over kill for trekking I'd of thought.''
Butcher looked coldly towards John. ''You know your rifles arse wipe.''
''My dad was into those things, had pictures all over his den walls.''
''But not you?'' Butcher asked as he finally hooked out the piece of trapped meat. He licked it off the tip.
''No. Never had any interest in weapons. The government should place tougher restrictions on who owns them, going off how many mass shootings there have been over the years. I mean, who in their right mind would want a fully automatic weapon, saying its just for sport?''
''Like me with this little lady.'' He fondly patted his snipers rifle.
''Well yes. I mean, what's the need of one here?''
''This little lady served me well in Vietnam, the first real war since two ended. I was Sargent of a sniper unit. Not one of those friggin' slit eyed yellow tree monkeys escaped my sight. Thirty one confirmed kills. Accurate over two thousand yards, dependent on who's pulling the trigger. So when I came home, she came with me.'' Butcher poured himself another coffee, hawking up a gob of phlegm at the same time. It hissed as it hit the hot ashes. ''And the last kill was the one to beat the rest. The other side had snipers, some good, most crap. They made easy targets, but this last kill, well, he was good. Took out two of my best men and Christ only knows how many infantry. He was always on the move, he shot, killed and went. Most others would stay put, soon giving their position away, so they lived a short life. Anyways, I eventually worked out his pattern and took a shot at his next position. Six stinking insect biting days and nights I laid concealed in the undergrowth, little food and water, then I saw it, a slight flash as his rifle sight was hit by sunlight as he targeted a nearby supply camp. I took aim, pulled the trigger, watching through my sight as his head exploded into pieces.''
''Wow, some story.'' Joey stated with admiration in his voice. ''Is that how you got your name, the Butcher?''
''No, that's down to Dorothy here. Some twenty years ago when hunting was hunting, using this little lady,'' Butcher caressed the rifle. ''Well before those animal rights f*****'* put their noses into things that didn't concern them, I was stalking a bear that had attacked a couple of campers, on her trail for over a week. Suddenly she burst out of the bushes, a mean twelve hundred pound load of killer. Had no time to raise my rifle, but was quick enough to unsheathe Dorothy. B****** near ripped me in pieces as we wrestled with each other, but I soon sliced through her neck, and once that was done, the rest was easy. Buried Dorothy up to the hilt in her head, then I sliced her into pieces. Got a nice bear rug in front of my fire for my efforts back at the cabin. Plus six scars across the chest. Remind me to show them to you tomorrow. I've got some interesting ones.''
''I think that we'll give the scar tours a miss, but thanks for the offer.You seem to enjoy killing, why call your knife Dorothy Mr Butcher?'' John asked, you could detect the nervousness in his question, he was obviously unsure of the reaction from Butcher.
Butcher held the knife with its flat edge facing the three, turning it slowly, watching the firelight shine off the blade.
''Its not about the killing... well some, its about the hunt. The animal your hunting has the advantage of these three things.'' Butcher used the knifes tip to indicate his eyes, nose and ears. ''These are what it uses to hunt and stalk you. But we have this.'' Again he uses the knife to indicate his brain. ''No animal on earth can counter the brain of a professional hunter. We can stalk the pray just as quietly, hide out for days if need be, set traps and plan. We think, they do not, they just hunt and destroy to ether eat or protect their territory. You can't have one without the other. Especially in terrain such as this. But at the same time you keep your wits about you, never underestimate the pray, especially when its bear. As to why I named this blade Dorothy. In memory of my wife, long since gone back to the earth. I can see her now as clearly as I did on her last day. Standing in front of our cabin, sun at her back, wearing the green, yellow and blue cotton summer dress that she loved. As the sun shone, so did the beautiful hourglass outline of her youthful figure through the thin cloth. She would keep this blade shining like the sun, even making sure its edge was kept keen. And there's few hunters that would allow another's hands on his blade.''
''Is that why you became a hunter then? Because of the Vietnam war?'' Joey asked.
''No, I come from three generations of hunters. My grandfather and his father. All hunters of sorts, but on the seas, not the land. My grandfather had a small fishing trawler down on the East coast. My father taking over from him. He would be gone for days, hunting the best areas for his next catch. He could read the waters as easily as I can the land. But then the money people moved in with bigger and better equipped ships, fishing the seas empty. Eventually there was no money in it for the likes of him. So he ended up taking tourists around the bay on friggin' site seeing tours. Broke him in the end.''
''Just like you have had to do.'' John stated. ''Having to change directions when the anti hunting laws came into affect. Must be a big wrench having to rely on these survivalist and character building courses you and others like you need to run to survive.''
''Its all about being able to adapt arse wipe..'' He cocked his own arse to one side, letting a long fart slide out.
The boys looked at each other, Joey getting into a fit of laughter towards Butchers continual bad manners.
''Just like Blazing Saddles,'' He laughed out the words.
''How about you City slicker's? Any of you got wives?''
''John here is divorced.'' Joey indicating his friend with a sideways flick of his right thumb. ''Me and Garry have girlfriends.''
''Sounds about right.'' Butcher remarked, looking towards John. John ignoring the remark. ''What's with the girlie bangles you all have on your wrists?''
''The blue ones are in support of gay rights, the yellow for endangered species, and the red for the persecuted people of the planet.'' Garry stated with an air of pride to his voice.
'' Friggin' H Christ, the three of you about cover it all. Gay rights my arse.'' Butcher lobbed another hawk onto the fire.
''Your homophobic then Mr. Butcher? They're just normal everyday people like you and I.'' John stated in defense of his belief.
''Like others? They may seem to be on the outside, but normal? Jack s*** they are. Wouldn't have one sat at my table. All those diseases and germs inside them. What's it they call 'em? Aids? HIV, Hepatitis C and all the other crap they have.''
''Its a medical fact that you would not catch anything from having a gay person sat at your dining table. More likely getting a dose of food poisoning than Aids.'' John stated flatly in a dismissive tone.
''That so? Let me tell you a medical fact. Some years ago an old trapper buddy of mine fell down a rivine Broke both legs, left shoulder. The Doc said he would survive, even though he was six days before he was found. No food, no water. Just his belief in God and a determination to live. Old Bo never drank, or smoked tobacco in his life. Kept his body clean and pure. That's what saved him. No crap floating around inside his body. So don't tell me about medical facts. Friggin' queers. They should be on your friggin' endangered list.'' He punctuated this statement by lobbing another ball of phlegm onto the fire.
''Well, you can't win an argument with a homophobic bigot. So we will just have to agree to not agree.'' John stood stating he was taking a p*** and walked out of the firelight towards the woods. He turned to face Butcher. ''If that's OK with you Mr Butcher.''
Butcher took no notice, he was now whittling away at a piece of wood, the blade Dorothy making easy work of it. ''Refill the coffee jug one of you.'' He stated flatly towards the flames.
The fresh pot of coffee was on the boil, Butcher still whittling. He didn't look up as he asked an open question.
''So what is it that you boys work at?''
''We work in IT, developing the next generation of Sat Com phones.''
Butcher didn't look up as he spoke. ''So is that it? You think that I'm so stupid that you have to spell out the littlest words for me to understand?'' He slammed the blade into the log he was sitting on. His cold eyes moved across the three nervous faces.
''No... no Mr. Butcher, IT stands for Information Technology. No offense meant.'' Joey was visibly shaking as he first looked at the embedded knife, then Butcher. He had the thought of running for his life if Butchers hand suddenly clutched the knifes handle.
Butcher looked at the three scared faces and grinned. ''I know what IT stands for, just yanking your chains. So, sounds like you boys earn a lot of green backs with this designing work?''
''Over a hundred grand a year with bonuses.'' Garry stated. His demeanor showing that he enjoyed the money as he rubbed his hands together.
''I suppose you all drive around in those expensive flashy sports cars then.'' Butcher was inspecting his piece of whittling. It resembled nothing that the boys could recognize.
''Not so, there's only John that has a car, a Mustang. Its easier and quicker to navigate the roads on bikes. More healthy as well. You tend not to get much exercise sat at a workbench ten hours a day.'' Joey informed him.
''I had a Mustang once. Rode her for twelve years. Never had a problem.''
''What model and year?'' John asked with interest.
'' The four legged, one tail variety.'' Butch stated matter of factley.
Butcher tossed another couple of logs onto the near dead fire, sparks flew up and around the seating area, the three boys throwing their heads back to dodge the shower. Butcher seemed unconcerned as a few settled on his shoulders and legs.
''Some five years ago I was trapping furs in those mountains at your backs.'' He jabbed in the general direction with the point of his blade.
All three turned their heads to look towards the indicated location. But saw nothing in the darkness. Butcher just looked at them and shook his head slowly from side to side.
''That year had been a bad one snow wise, but the returns on the furs made it worthwhile. Snow was deep, blizzards blinding. Plus the beavers are a dam nuisance constantly blocking up the waterways so it makes sense to thin 'em out once in a while. Anyhow, my horse took a tumble in a deep rut, broke her leg and one of mine. Had to put her out of her misery, single bullet to the head.''
''Wow.'' Gerry issued the word slowly. ''How did you manage to survive with all that snow and freezing weather?''
''Well, first off I knew other hunters would be passing in a couple of days or so, so I did the only thing I could do to wait the time out.''
''Make an igloo and get a fire going.'' Joey interrupted as if he had first hand knowledge of such things.
''You d***. Its blowing a blizzard with snow and there ain't no dry wood. Numb nuts.'' Garry scolded him.
''Just saying... that's all.'' Joey muttered in obvious embarrassment.
''Jesus H Christ!'' Butcher shouted in exasperation towards the three. ''The only thing that I could do was for my horse to pay me one last service. I cut her open from head to tail, dragged out all what was inside then crawled inside her to keep warm and the weather away from freezing my nuts off. I lay there for three days until Buck and Sandy Corbett found me. Told me that I was lucky as they nearly missed the blooded entrails that I had laid out as a signal. Seemed to take a week getting the stink off me once back. And those mother f*****'* at the Medical Center burnt all my best winter gear as they said it was too contaminated to leave on the ward. Bad enough loosing the hunting season.''
Joey and Garry attempted to halt their gagging reflexes at this information.
''I think we smell more bull s*** than horse blood.'' John stated quietly out the corner of his mouth to his friends. ''So, what's happening tomorrow?'' John asked in his normal tone. The way Butcher looked at him gave John the distinct and uneasy feeling that Butcher may just have heard his sarcastic pun.
''You'll be on your own, following three separate trails. No doubt you'll all end up where you shouldn't be, lost, bear lunch or drowned in a creek.'' Butcher stated matter of factly, but looking directly towards John.
''Do many of your clients get lost?'' Garry inquired, attempting to draw Butchers attention away from his friend, as he too had seen Butchers eyes lock onto John, silently hoping for a no on that point as he spat a mouth full of bile out.
Butcher slowly dragged his eyes away from John's position on the long log the three occupied.
''Some get lost because they are stupid, thinking that their trail leaders are talking a load of horse s***.'' Again Butcher made a quick glance towards John, then back onto the fire. ''Others get lost because, for reasons only known to themselves, want to get lost. Others, only a few, just disappear without trace. But up till now, non of my clients, as you term yourselves. These little sorties I get paid to organize are solely for the purpose of character building, as deemed necessary by whoever pays your wage each month. And from the conversation I had over the phone with your team leader at Ellco Technology , you all would benefit more with a hard kicking up the friggin' arse.''
''That's a bit harsh, you know next to nothing about us.'' Joey protested.
''That so? I know that two years ago on your first survivalist course you managed to burn the entire encampment down after you drank all the beer you had managed to smuggle in, and smoked so much weed that you wouldn't of felt yourselves on fire.'' Butchers voice oozed disrespect at them.
''In our defense it was not our weed. The fire was started accidentally because the fire hadn't been extinguished correctly. But we did have beer. But only one can each.'' John grinned as he ticked each item off on the fingers of his left hand.
''You think that its funny starting a forest fire? Putting folks lives at risk because you didn't observe the most important, yet basic rule of a camp site? Not to mention the devastating impact of the wildlife.''
''Over hunting can have the same sort of impact, although not quite on the same grand scale.'' John stated.
His two friends stared at John in disbelief, Joey elbowing john in the side of his ribs fearing what Butchers reaction would be to this obvious come back towards Butchers earlier comments towards John. Butcher went quiet, just staring into the flames, as if contemplating.
''The last forest fire we had in these parts was around fifteen years back. Destroyed thousands of acres of forest, countless animals. S***, even the millions of insects that were lost were all part of the needs and survival of these forest areas. Cost the lives of three good volunteer fire fighters. All married, all had kids. The investigators came to the conclusion that it had been a deliberate act of arson or wanton carelessness. There had been reports that a group of city kids had left a number of camp fires smoldering as they trekked across the park. Never found 'em. Although I looked high and low. Would of skinned the b******'* smooth if I had of done.''
Once again Butcher went quiet.
''One of those that died trying to quell the flames was my younger brother. Bill.''
The three remained silent upon hearing these last words. Not knowing how to respond, and thinking that it was probably best not too.
Any how's, that was then, this is now, so lets get onto last years s*** heap of nostalgic memories shall we? Six of you get placed on a remote island. Simple remit, survive the next week on what you can catch in the sea, pull off the trees and dig out of the ground. Christ, so I'm told they even gave you a friggin' safe to eat and do not eat list and a friggin' radio in case any of you got home sick. So what do you do? One of the six brings along their friggin pet mongoose because it was full of pups and they didn't want to leave it at home, a species that is not indigenous to that island, and is a natural predator to half the wildlife established there. It could take years to eradicate the furry little f*****'*. I tell you this boys, you may be Gods gift in the electronics business, but this is your last chance of survival here. C*** this one up and you'll be selling burgers for the rest of your natural. No wonder they upped the fees to four grand each. Going off from what I've seen and heard so far, I short changed myself.''
''It wasn't our fault, it belonged to one of the girls with us. We knew nothing about it until it happened.'' Joey protested.
''That's right.'' Garry confirmed. ''Mary Connolly out of logistics. Sandwich short of a picnic.''
''Nice top rack though.'' Joey added as an after thought.
The new day dawned, six o'clock came and Butcher was banging a pan with a wooden spoon.
''Shift your arses retards, I told you last night to be up and ready at four. You missed breakfast, which I must say was very tasty, coffee's gone cold and there aint' no fresh drinking water left as some ares wipe forgot to fill the container from last night..'' He glared over towards John as he untangled himself from the sleeping bag.
''Sorry'' He mumbled.
''Don't say no sorry to me, I got plenty. Right then.'' Butcher began. ''This is now base camp. The three of you are to take the trail over to your left. Walk for about a hundred yards and you come to a three way junction. Nailed on the trees are coloured circles. Red, blue and green. Each of you retards get a colour sticker.''
He walked over to the trekkers and peeled off each of the three colours from a sheet. He positioned each pad onto their foreheads and hit them hard with the palm of his gnarled hand to make sure they stuck, a little to hard for the boys liking, but non dared object.
''Each of you.'' Butcher continued. ''Will follow the trail with your corresponding colour, now... ''Butcher stopped as he saw Joey's hand waving in the air. ''What's the friggin' matter now? You need to take a p*** or somethin?''
''How do we see our colours if they're stuck to our foreheads .Mr. Butcher.''
''Work it out for yourselves. D*** wad. As you follow the trails it will pay to keep your eyes open at every forth marker. There will be signs, if you look properly, that will indicate where I placed a fresh bottle of drinking water. Miss the signs, miss the drink. The hike is around ten hours and will eventually bring you back here. I will be keeping an eye on all three of you, I'll see you, but you wont see me, so don't think about being a clever retard by hiding close by and showing up ten hours later looking all fresh and dry. Or else Dorothy will be playing a game of stretch those legs.''
''What about food?'' John asked.
''What about it?''
''Will that be with the water?''
''No, it'll be here when you get back. Last one home gets to lick the pans clean. Now get your arses moving.''
John was the first to arrive back at camp, fourteen hours later. He was panting like a dog, an empty water bottle clutched in his hand. As he entered the site he collapsed into a sweaty heap. Butcher grinned to himself as he tossed a fresh bottle over to him.
''You took your friggin' time.'' He stated flatly.
''Got... gotta bit lost, and I couldn't find the water at number two spot.'' He gasped.
''There wasn't any. All part of the challenge. Well, at least you made it back first, something to tell your kids when you have any. Get cleaned up and help yourself to chow. There's a cold beer for the winner as well.''
Some two hours later Joey was next to enter the camp, looking just as disheveled as John had. But at least he still had water in his bottle, or so it looked like he did.
''Just about to send out a search party. See any sings of retard number three on your travels?''
''No, non. It was difficult following the markers. I forgot to mention that I was colour blind. I wear special glasses at work so I can tell the difference in the wire colouring. Managed to find a trail that lead me hear. I was shitting it. Couldn't find the last three waters, so then I remembered a survivalist program on TV about a guy that got lost in the desert. Had no water so drank his own p***. Salty, but not too bad as I have a low sense of taste.'' He held up the bottle towards the setting sun. inspecting the contents as if it contained a fine vintage wine.
''Well you did OK in the end. Well done. Get yourself some food and as you used you brain for something other than keeping your ears apart, take a beer as a reward.''
They waited another three hours with still no sign of Garry, and the sun was starting to set. Butcher was getting some of his gear together, When he seemed to be finished he came over to John and Joey.
''Get some shut eye. I'm going to follow his trail, see if I can find him. The retards probably fell down a disused mine vent or somethin'. There's a Rangers station close by so if there no sign or sight of him I'll radio it in and organize a search party. Just hope he isn't' going to be my first loss. That would **** me off.''
Joey and John got little sleep that night, even though they were exhausted enough from the previous days trials to have slept for a week under normal circumstances. But these where not normal by any means. Their best friend was lost and could be badly injured someplace out of sight and hearing range.
As the two finally crawled out of their sleeping bags, they saw Butcher sat at the fire he had rekindled. A hot cup of coffee was clutched in his hands. He looked up as the two approached him.
''Get some coffee down you. Friggin' freezing out there last night.''
''Any signs of Garry?'' John asked with hope in his voice.
''Non. I radioed the Park Rangers. They'll have search parties out by now.''
Joey noticed that Butcher had blood on his boots and trouser legs.
''Wheres the blood from.'' He asked.
Butcher looked down to where Joey was indicating with his gaze.
''It's not your friends if that's what your worried about. Ran into my cousin Darrel. He's the Green Mountains town sheriff. Came across him on the lower road on the way to the Ranger station. Some retard in one of those big four by's you city folk seem think they need in this park had hit a stag and left him for dead in the road. I helped Darrel shift it over. He found the f*****'* that drove into it though. Behind the Sheriffs office bars now waiting for the court hearing to find them their fixed1,000 dollars each penalty. Waste of a good hunt and kill for next season if you ask me.''
''So what happens next? What do we do?'' John asked. ''Joey and myself want to join in searching for Garry.''
''That won't happen. You'll only get in the way, or get lost or injured yourselves. We're already stretched out as it is. Haven't got the man power that knows these areas well enough to split them up looking for another two city folk know it all's. Sheriff Darrel's on his way. Short walk down that hill over there,'' Butcher indicated the direction using Dorothy as he had again taken up his whittling, ''Is the lower road. You'll be dropped off at the bus station. You head back home and wait for any information from the Sheriffs office. Don't worry your heads non. If he's out there, then the search party or the dogs will soon find him.''
Just at that point, as if on que, the Sheriff entered the clearing. The two boys noted that he too had blood on him. A lot more than Butcher had.
''Morning boys, Butch. Sorry about your friend. Don't worry yourselves, he cant of got far.''
''No news then?'' Butcher asked.''
''Its too early on in the search Butch. Maybe in a couple of hours or so. Anyways, you two boys come with me, just have to stop off home first to change into a clean uniform. Doesn't look to good if the Sheriffs seen covered in blood, Stags or not.''
Even though the two boys protested that they didn't want to go back home, it all fell on deaf ears as they were unceremoniously ushered down the hill towards the sheriffs Land Rover, Butcher trowing their back packs after them.
It was eight days into the search for Garry. Both John and Joey had constantly been on the phone for any information, as had Garry's parents and close work colleagues and friends. But they all received the same advice. Stay home and let those that know their job do it unhindered.
John and Joey had decided to take no notice of the advice, they now sat at the old base camp resting before they set off on their chosen rout.
''You sure that we're doing the right thing John? We could be in deep **** if we're caught out here, and this place gives me the creeps.''
''Look around you Joey. There's no sight or sound of anyone. There is no search going on, for whatever reason. Something not right about it all.''
John started to pull stuff out of his backpack as Joey took a swig of water. He unfolded a sheet of paper and held it in front of him.
''We could be going round in circles for the two days we have. We'll probably get lost. Or even worse, attacked by bears.'' Joey had genuine fear in his voice as his eyes darted back and forth across the forests edge.
''I downloaded this from the internet. An overshot of this area. Then, when you place the one I downloaded of Butchers web page, it shows clearly the three coloured routs we took. Now look where Garry's red trail took him, right across the base of the cave he showed interest in.''
John traced the red trail with his finger to indicate it to Joey.
''He wouldn't of gone looking in the cave John, not after Butcher told us about the bear in it. And we should of told someone that we were coming back to look for him.''
''There is no bear Joey, never was. There hasn't been any bears in this area since we were born. Butcher was lying to us for whatever reasons. Didn't you notice? There was not one warning notice anywhere stating that there was any bears to be aware of.''
The two boys took up their packs and started the long haul up the track, following the same red markers that their friend Garry had. It took them four hours to reach the base of the steep trail that could be seen heading towards the caves entrance. The hike up the trail was nothing like the difficult skill requiring clime that Butcher had told them. More lies. As the two entered the cave, the sun behind them illuminating the inside. Both stood frozen to the spot as their sight took in what was before them. There were piles of human remains, some whole, some just parts. Some were decomposing, others just dried out bones. There was a pile of rucksacks in one far corner, clothes and personal items in another. Cameras, keys, sunglasses shoes littered the floor and rough cut wooden frames that had some sort of material stretched across each one from side to side. On closer inspection, it was now obvious to both boys it was human skin. One of the frames still had fresh blood at its base. But now both were looking at the same spot. Against the far wall, propped up in a sitting position, was the badly mutilated body of their friend Garry. Both the boys retched at the same time, a combination of the stench, visual impact on their senses, and the discovery of their friends remains. They could do nothing to stem the vomit and bile from flowing freely from their mouths. As Joey spat the last from his mouth, he placed his shaking hand on Johns's shoulder, pointing at a pile of dust covered bones in another area of the cave. The clothing could still be clearly seen.
''John, remember what Butcher told us about his wife Dorothy. The way the sunlight made her figure stand out and the dress she always wore? Flowered cotton, green, yellow and blue flowers. That must be her. Same dress. Her heads missing.''
''Your right boys, that's all that's left of my sister Dorothy.''
The boys spun around, seeing Sheriff Darrel was stood there.
''Thank God your here Sheriff, we found Garry, and that's Butchers wife, We recognizer the dress.'' Joey was almost crying out the words.
''Butch and her was trying for a kid for years. Butch went over to Clarkson Medical Center for all the tests. Never told Dorothy as he genuinely thought he was OK, that it was a problem Dorothy had. Anyways, the tests confirmed that Butch was firing blanks, they couldn't have kids, he kept this sad news to himself. So, when a couple of years later Dorothy suddenly announced that she was expecting, well, Butch just knew...
Sheriff Darrel stopped talking, head down as if in sorrow at the loss.
''Sheriff, our friends body is here. There must be twelve others as well. We need to get help.'' Joey stated in a pleading voice.
''Seventeen altogether, give or take the odd leg.'' Darrel stated flatly.
''You knew about this place?'' John shouted in an angry tone. ''And you did nothing? You sick son of a bitch.''
''Course I knew, s***, I put 'em here. Your friend was a noisy critter. Crying like a baby, p****** himself, then s******* his pants, just like the little baby he was. So I had to slice his tongue out, quiet him down a bit. Then he started to gurgle like a baby.'' The Sheriff started to laugh at his ghoulish description.
''What... what do you mean you put them here?'' Joey stuttered.
Just then another stepped into the cave, it was Butcher. Both he and Darrel slowly drew their long, sharp hunting knives out of their sheaths.
''Welcome back boys. I see that you discovered our trophy room. You two up for a little hunting.''
The three fifty seven slug slammed into Butchers chest, it severed his spinal cord exiting out his back. The Sheriff received one to his lower abdomen. Butcher was dead before he it the ground face down, but Sheriff Darrel slid slowly down the wall clutching his stomach.
''You son of a bitch, you shot me.'' Blood had started to trickle out the sides of his fingers.
''Jesus John, you had a gun! Why didn't you tell me?'' Joey was doing circles around the cave, pulling his fingers through his hair.
''And have you shouting shot 'em John, shoot 'em. We'd have been sliced and diced before I could pull it out of the back of my jeans.''
''What about the Sheriff? He's still breathing.''
''As was intended. Although it was meant to be for this heap of ****. Didn't figger the Sheriff was in on it. A shot like that, certain spot to the gut, about the slowest most painful death there is from a bullet. Just like my dad told me before we set out to come back here. The last thing he will be looking at is the remains of Garry.''
''What do you mean your dad told you?''
''That first night we got back, me and dad went over to Garry's dads place. Just to console him at first, but when I started to tell him about Butcher and what I had seen.... Well, it was obvious things just didn't add up the way they should off.''
John crouched down in front of the semi prone body of the Sheriff, He tapped his chest with one of the discarded knives.
''You see Sheriff, hunters like you and your friend here are becoming an endangered species, the only difference between you two, your both now extinct. Or soon will be.'' He stood, throwing the knife to one side.
''What sort of things?'' Joey asked, still unable to take his eyes off the dying Sheriff.
''Remember at the camp fire and I noted the snipers rifle? I could see it was a make up, good job, but I've seen so many of the real thing on my dads wall that I just knew it was a fake. No such thing as a Jackson and beal snipers rifle. But this little baby is the real deal, Smith and Wesson three fifty seven snub nosed magnum, five shot. Also, remember when he through that last log on the fire, all those sparks flying about? Well I noticed one went straight into his right eye, never hollered or batted that eye. Then when I looked closer, you could see the fire reflected off it. Like his rifle, it was a fake glass eye. You ever here of a one eyed sniper Joey?''
''Wow John, that was clever. Just like that British dude on the TV, Sherlock Holmes.''
Just then Darrel gave a low gurgling noise, blood was slowly coming out of his mouth.
''Now who's gurgling like a baby turd brain? Joey spat at him, but missed. ''So what do we do now? just leave 'em here?
''No, we head off down and find that Rangers station and let them know what happened.''
As the two walked down towards the road, Joey stopped and placed his hand on his friends shoulder to halt his progress.
''Do you think that maybe they'll make a movie about us? Or on the news at least.'' Joey asked his friend in an excited voice.
''Who knows, maybe they will, maybe they wont.''
''I hope they do, then perhaps Mary Connolly will say yes for the fourth time of me asking to go on a date.''
''Joey, the reason that she declined your request the first three times, is because she's gay. Why do think it was her handing out all those gay rights bracelets?''
''I didn't think about why. Just thought she was helping out. Guess that's a no starter then.''
Both boys walked in silence for a while until Joey spoke quietly.
''I'm going to miss Garry, he was a good friend.''
''Me too joey, me too.''
''Do you think that I could have a go with the gun before we reach the Rangers station John?
John ignored the request and carried on walking?
''Oh well, guess that's another no.''
thanks again for posting this one, it must keep you quite busy writing your stories 
) and go for the Windows 10 OS on your new laptop. 
well the list is endless, but ‘Acer’ are well known and have been around for ages, I have one myself ……… somewhere. 
Many places will sell them, from Tesco Direct, Amazon, Argos or just about any electrical goods outlet, the one in this link is from AO.Com and is just under £400 and probably has everything you need. If the link works then you can click on each feature in the KEY INFORMATION chart and it will expand out and tell you what is has built in, but briefly it has USB and HDMI connections, a reasonable processor and RAM and a SSD (Solid State Drive) so nothing to get jarred or damaged in transit. Obviously I cannot speak for you or others choices of a new Laptop, but if I were in the market for a new one in your budget range, then this would be on my short list.
