Page 66 of God’s Country

“One word and you’re dead,” Ollie threatened. Then to Stan, “Go out and do whatever it takes to get that guy over here.”

Stan stepped onto the path that cut through the sumac and jogged to the shoreline. Although we were pretty well hidden, Ollie and I could still see him at the edge of the lake, jumping up and down and waving his arms like crazy. I couldn’t see the canoeist. I had no idea if the ruse was working. Stan finally stopped jumping and dropped his arms, and I felt relieved, figuring he’d failed. Then he lifted his hand in a friendly gesture, and I heard him call out, “Howdy!”

A few moments later, I watched the canoe draw up to the shoreline and Stan reach out to steady the bow. I heard the splash of water as the canoeist disembarked, then saw him step into view. He and Stan shook hands and exchanged words. Although I could hear their voices, I couldn’t quite catch what they were saying.

I looked up and saw on Ollie’s face a hungry grin of pure predatory anticipation. This was a man who loved to kill. I wanted to scream out something to the stranger that would make him flee, but that hard barrel to my temple and the bullet it could spit so easily into my brain kept me quiet. I felt like a coward, and all I could do was hope that what went down was simple robbery.

“Okay,” Ollie said. He stood up and waved the gun for me to do the same. “Let’s go meet our sucker.”

I stood unsteadily, still reeling a little, and Ollie shoved me forward. He stayed behind me, the barrel of the Glock now digging into the small of my back. As we approached, I saw the man who’d joined us look our way and smile.

“Morning,” he called.

“Morning,” Ollie replied in a tone just as friendly.

When we were half a dozen yards away, he pushed me hard, and I stumbled forward. I saw the face of the stranger change. He’d seen the gun in Ollie’s hand.

“What’s going on?” he said.

“A little piracy, that’s all,” Ollie said. “Maybe a little kidnapping, too. It all depends.”

“I don’t understand.” The canoeist looked to me, then to Stan.

“We need what you have,” Stan explained. “Mostly food.”

“You’re welcome to it,” the man said.

“Can you get us out of this fucking wilderness?” Ollie said.

“I suppose so. But… I don’t understand.”

“Nothing to understand. You take us to Canada, that’s all there is to it.”

“Canada?”

“That’s what I said. You deaf?”

The man looked at me. “You’re bleeding.”

“An accident,” Ollie said. “He ran into a frying pan.”

“Best give them what they want,” I advised.

“Like I said, you’re welcome to my food, but I’m not taking anyone to Canada.”

“Do you have a map?” Stan asked.

“Of course. I’ll get it for you.”

The man waded into the lake, opened a knapsack that was near the stern of his canoe, and pulled out a map. He came back to shore and held the map out to Stan.

“Use that and you can get to Canada all by yourself,” the man said.

“How long?” Stan said.

“A hard day’s paddle and few portages. Just go north.”

Ollie said, “You’re sure you won’t take us?”