Chapter 22 Chapter Twenty Two

Charles Gundy, a thin, bearded man in his mid-thirties and wearing a North Face trench coat, was standing next to a Winnebager camper parked in Marquette State Park. In the woods, next to a dilapidated forest ranger station.The ranger station had been abandoned several years ago.The camper has many scratches and dents, and a half-dozen bumper stickers on the rear of the car, extolling the importance of green energy, lists such things as mountain biking through Snoqualmie Pass and Hiking stories on the Appalachian Trail. "Did you hear anything, dear?" asked Susan.She was a curvy woman with straight, light brown hair.A few years older than Gundy.She wore a necklace shaped like an Egyptian Ankh, two handmade friendship bracelets on her wrists, and a wedding ring on her finger.

"No." "What is it?" "It was the sound of a human voice, sure. By the way, it almost sounded like a shout." "The parks are closed. It's this late?" "I know. When is Rudy coming back?" "at any time." Her husband squinted his eyes into the night. "dad?" He turned around to see his nine-year-old stepdaughter standing in the doorway.She was wearing a T-shirt, a denim skirt, and a pair of old running shoes. "Amy, it's time for bed." "I was helping Mommy with something. She asked me to do it."

Gundy said distractedly, "Okay. Listen to your mother. Get inside. It's cold outside." The girl flicked her long golden hair and disappeared. A camper has two doors, one at the front and one at the front.Gundy went to the back door, got into the car, found an old battered deer rifle, and loaded the magazines. "What are you doing, dear." "I have to go and see." "But the Ranger—" "Not around here, not yet. You lock the door and draw the curtains, and don't open the door to anyone but me and Rudy." "Got it, honey. Be careful!"

Susan climbed the steps, got into the car, closed the door, and locked it.The curtains were down and the camper was pitch black.The faint sound of the generator was almost drowned out by the sound of the wind.very good. Gundy zipped up his coat and put on the gray linen hat Susan had bought him for his birthday.He walked down the path.The road ends at the Joliet Trail.He hooked the gun with his arm. He went south first, then turned east.They've been here four days, mostly walking around.So he knew the place well and found passages and paths that had been trampled at random, some by deer (trampled leaves, broken branches, grainy dung) and some by people ( Traces as above, except for feces).

He moved slowly, very carefully.It's not that I'm afraid of getting lost, but that I'm afraid of bumping into someone suddenly. Is that a scream?he was thinking. If yes, is it a human call or a beast call? Gundy was now two or three hundred yards away in the direction where he thought he heard the voice, when he knelt down and surveyed the moonlit forest carefully.He heard a click, click, and then another crash, not very far away, maybe a branch falling, maybe a deer, maybe a bear. "Maybe it's my damn imagination." Suddenly he tensed up. There, that's right...that's right now.He saw a person—a woman, he decided—moving from tree to tree, very low.She was holding something in her hand.It seems very thin.Is it a rifle?He clutched the gun in his hand, a Savage .308 rifle.

what is going on?Yelling at this late hour in a deserted, officially closed state park?His heart was pounding.Intuition told him that he should get back to the car immediately, and then run away from this damn place.But the sound of the chug-chug diesel engine will attract unnecessary attention. He squatted down and stared at the woman, wondering why she acted like a soldier?Carefully, crawl from cover to cover.She is clearly not a ranger.She wasn't wearing the well-marked hat with the Smokey bear on it, or the ranger's uniform.She seemed to be wearing a ski jacket. His gut told him that this woman was a threat.

The woman disappeared behind a large blackberry bush, and he didn't see her come out again.Gundy stood up, raised the gun, raised the muzzle, and groped over there. Just get the hell out of here, a voice in his head said. But then I thought about it: no, it’s all up to this point.Go ahead. He stopped beside a steep slope, which led to a forest.Holding on to the thin birch and oak saplings with his left hand, he stabilized his body. Then, he walked to a flat place, and then walked towards the bushes, where the woman disappeared just now. He checked the place.There was no sign of the woman.

There she was, thirty feet or so from him.She was hiding in a shadow, but he saw her anyway.She was lying on the side of a bush, showing half of her body.She bowed her head like a lioness waiting for an antelope. He gently unbolted the Savage gun, loaded the bullet, and began to move forward, deliberately avoiding branches and fallen leaves, as if walking in a minefield. Now he looked like a soldier himself.The role made him not at all comfortable. Christine Bryn McKenzie was in ambush behind a dark, gnarled but imposing oak tree.She clutched the cue spear and breathed deeply, opening her mouth wide open to keep from making a sound.She climbed back to the hill just now, groping towards the place where the man disappeared just now.

Her palms were wet, but she felt cold because she had taken off her ski jacket and a pair of sweatpants.The stripped clothes, stuffed with leaves, looked like a fallen scarecrow hidden in a blackberry bush, which was the bait for Hart's accomplices. The trick seems to be working.The man is now approaching cautiously. Still no sign of Hart. Well, she thought. One on one, I can beat you. At the risk of being shot at a distance, she stepped into the moonlight, exposed herself, and then quickly disappeared behind this blackberry bush, where she took off her clothes and piled them on the ground. Someone was hurt, or hiding here.

She slid down the hill and circled behind the tree. Let's hope Hart's associates take the bait. He was hooked.The muzzle of the gun was raised high, and the shadow was coming down from the mountain, touching the dummy. Brin hid behind the tree, judging the man's position based on the sound of footsteps.Her sense of hearing became very acute at this time.All organs, in fact, are mobilized.The sharp edge of the spear, the Chicago knife, was pressed against her cheek, hidden deep in the shadows of the trees, so that it would not reflect light from the moonlight and reveal her position.She thought to herself, how strange that this kitchen tool that has never been used for the first time is not used to cut beef tenderloin or chop chicken chops, but to kill people.

She realized, though, that the thought didn't make her very uncomfortable. There was a soft click, followed by a rustle. At this time, the wind suddenly picked up, and it was quite strong.She couldn't hear the man's footsteps for a while, but the sound of a leaf quivering and branches swaying in her ears. Where?She was thinking, a little panicked. Then she heard him again.The man was still walking straight towards the bait.Judging from the way he was going, he happened to pass the tree where she was hiding. twenty feet. ten feet.His footsteps were soft. From her hunting hide she surveyed the place as carefully as she could, trying to find Hart.No. six feet, five... Then he was already at the edge of the tree. Finally, he walked over. Bryn looked up to see his back.He had changed out of the battle suit that Bryn remembered seeing him wear at Feldman's, and was now wearing a North Face ski jacket that he probably stole from the house at 2 Lakeview Road of.He also wears a hat that covers his short blonde hair. Well, time to do it, she told herself. There was a quiet, almost euphoric feeling in her body.This feeling has come up on other occasions, but usually in completely unexpected circumstances.She was riding a galloping sorrel horse in the triple show jumping at a show.During a frantic chase involving an arms dealer on the run, the car was driven at 140 mph on a county road.Another time, when she and Case were vacationing in Biloxi, they resolved a life-and-death struggle between two young teenagers. When it's time to fight... At this moment, she was thinking: first knock him unconscious with the meteor hammer wrapped in billiard balls, and then rush up and use all her strength to drive the spear into his back.Grab the shotgun. Also watch out for Hart's sudden appearance.Because, as long as his accomplice calls, he will definitely come. Brin came out from behind the tree, looked at her target, and waved her hand, and the billiard ball meteor flew out. The billiard ball arced in the air and flew towards the man, hitting him right on the ear.With a cry, he dropped the gun. Regardless of the pain on her body, Brin jumped forward. She is no longer a police officer.Nor is it wife or mother. She is a wolf, a primitive animal, survival is her only belief.Rush, rush, toes through the boots into the hard ground, the spear in hand, the blade of the spear shone coldly under the cold moonlight, and stabbed straight at the man.She tried her best to restrain a strong impulse, so she didn't let out a manly roar.