The Ritual
(Please don't read if you're easily offended or have a weak stomach)
Part I
(1)
“Hey… you want another beer?” Steve asked as he rose slowly from the log he’d been sitting on.
Jack pressed his bottle to his lips and threw back his head, downing his remaining brew in one gulp.
“Only if you’re buying” Jack replied, tossing the empty bottle over his shoulder, the bottle crashing into the pile of dead soldiers the two had drained this evening. “When did the guys say they’d get here? At this rate, we’re gonna run out” he said as Steve twisted the top from another Heini and handed it to him.
Steve groaned, and stumbled a bit as he settled back onto his log, which was positioned between the makeshift campfire the two had lit and the dense forest lining the banks of the Mississippi river.
“They should be here within the hour” Steve replied. “And yeh, we’re gonna be cutting it close with the beer. We might just have to break out the hard stuff before they get here.”
Jack laughed, “Their bad for not getting here in time”.
Steve, Jack, Dwayne, and Luke had been meeting in the woods to get drunk and stupid for twenty years, since their freshman year of college. Well, at least Steve, Jack and Luke’s. The year following high school graduation Steve had entered the State University’s Engineering program. Luke, the local community college to study architecture and Jack, a small private college a two hour drive from their home town. Dwayne had taken a job with a local manufacturer after high school and still worked there to this day.
In the early years, the boys met up at a local resort lake and pretended to fish along the lakeshore. The truth told, the lines were thrown out, but not checked until it was time to head to their respective homes two days, and several gallons of alcohol later.
Many stories had been created over the years on these trips, some ledgendary, and it amazed them none of them had been badly injured or killed in their follies.
One such exploit included M80 fishing; an experience of lighting M80 firecrackers and tossing them into the water timed to explode just as the explosive reaches the water. An M80 is basically a quarter stick of dynamite. The concussion of the charge would stun any nearby fish, resulting in a layer of the finned creatures side and belly up on the waters surface.
On yet another occasion, coincidentally enough Jack and Steve were early and waiting for the other two to arrive. Having started the drinking affair at around two in the afternoon they were sufficiently plied for Dwayne and Luke to find Steve passed out, pants around his ankles sitting and slumped in the toilet. Jack was passed out on the lake shore… up to his knees in lake water.
It was a ritual, in spite of the protests of their wives, each now having been married for some time. A “testosterone release” weekend is what their spouses had referred to it for several years now. Actually as the years progressed, their trysts with the local ladies had fallen by the wayside, either in a lack of interest, or in just being plainly too drunk to make the effort.
This year was different. Steve had recently received divorce papers from his wife of 20 years. Madeleine had actually attended the same high school as the quartet, and was known to all four as “Mean Maddy” for her temper and lack of sense of humor. It was a blessing for Steve really, but he wasn’t taking it as such. They had one child together, Derik, born just five months after their last-minute wedding. Derik was Steve’s life and was now a sophomore in the same University engineering program Steve had been in so long ago. Even though Steve had been miserable for the last several years, he had been in a terribly foul mood since receiving the papers, just a month ago.
This year was different too, because the set up was new. In an effort to mix things up, Jack thought Steve could use the change in scenery and arranged for the four to meet along the banks of the Mississippi River near Prairie du Chien, Wisconsin. It’s a beautiful sight with scenic bluffs, caves, hardwood trees, and abundant wildlife.
“What if they can’t find the place?” Steve asked.
“Hell, I drew them a map!”Jack replied. “If they can’t find this place, they’re dumber than I thought”
(2)
“That ain’t saying much, now is it?” a familiar voice said from the trees behind the two perched on their logs.
“Heya shit-head!” Steve said as he got up to meet the two laggards.
Dwayne and Luke emerged from the dense brush, each carrying a large cooler, sloshing and emitting the sounds of ice bouncing against bottles.
Dwayne made a toothy grin and said “So who’s the dumb one’s here?”
Jack looked at both of them returning the grin, “I guess that would be me since you’ve got the beer!”
The four exchanged hearty greetings and pleasantries and spent the next hour catching up on old times. Luke’s oldest son was graduating high school this year and was on delayed entry for the Marine Corps. Jack and his wife, yes, Jill had never had children and the two were planning for an early retirement, which meant a move from city life to a twenty acre horse ranch in south-western Colorado near Durango. Dwayne was still working his way up the corporate ladder, having landed a comfortable management position for the manufacturing company since their last get-together. And then there was Steve. Everyone had known his marriage was on the rocks were actually surprised it had taken so long for events to lead to a divorce. Nobody wanted to take Steve down by dwelling on this and avoided the topic until Steve stood up suddenly, a bit off balance, tossing his bottle into the fire and said, “And me!.... the bitch wants to divorce me! What the hell do you think of that? Mean Maddy wants a divorce!”
“I’m really sorry man” said Luke, also standing to get another round of beer. Luke put his arm around Steve. “You knew this day would come… c’mon Steve… you deserve a better life than what you’ve been living… you know that…”
Steve looked at Luke hard. “How the hell can you say that?” he slurred. “What the hell do you know anyway? You never liked her. None of you liked her. You guys screwed up my marriage!”
“What are you talking about Steve” Dwayne said, with emphasis on “what”.
“Jus shutup.. I dunwanna talk anmore”. Steve was crashing fast. “I godda pish” he said as he stumbled into the woods and out of sight of the remaining three.
“He’s taking it pretty hard, huh?” Luke said, returning to the fire with three cold bottles of suds.
Dwayne said to Jack, “How long has he been like this?”
“He hasn’t” replied Jack. “It’s the beer talking. He doesn’t know what the hell he’s saying”
“I dunno man” said Dwayne. “Steve’s a pretty easy going guy, even more so when he’s drunk. You remember that time we were at the lakes in Schmidty’s bar? By the end of the night he was so far gone he was singing Irish songs and buying the bar rounds… He’s everyone’s buddy when he’s drunk…. This is bad”
Jack took a long pull on the beer. “Ack… he’ll get over it”
Luke looked at Jack for a long while.
“What?” Jack asked.
“Does he know?” replied Luke.
“What…”
“Don’t” Luke interrupted. “Don’t play games. Does Steve know?”
Dwayne lowered his beer, and gazed at the Luke, then at Jack. “Yeh man, does he know?”
“Nah…” Jack said looking at Luke, then at Dwayne. “No way… how could he?”
Part II
(3)
Thirty minutes had passed since Steve had the call of nature and trod off into the woods. The trio had been talking over the situation when Luke stood up and strode to the edge of the trees. It was a new moon and the only light available was from the riverside fire.
“Damn” he muttered. He cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled into the pitch, “Steve! You fall asleep in there?”
There was no reply. The only sounds were the crackle of the fire, the chips of frogs and insects and the occasional screech of an owl.
Luke yelled again, “Dude! You ok?”
Nothing.
“He’s probably passed out… It’s not like he’s never done that before” Jack said, tossing another log in the fire.
“Yeh, you’re probably right. He was pretty piss drunk and pissed off when he went in there” replied Luke.
Dwayne stood up and let out a yell, like Tarzan of the Jungle. “I godda pish too” he said, mocking Steve’s departure. “Any of you boy scouts have a flashlight?”
Jack tossed a black mag-lite at Dwayne, hitting him square in the chest.
Rubbing the spot where the flashlight had bounced off his chest and onto the ground, Dwayne strained to bend over and picked up the implement. “You always were a jackass”. He turned on his heel, clicked on the light and stepped into the brush.
(4)
After taking care of business, and seeing no signs of Steve, Dwayne surveyed the surrounding woods, scanning the area with the beam of the light, which seemed to get sucked up by the darkness, only showing the trunks and thickets directly in front of the light.
“Steve?” he called into the darkness.
Seeing nothing, hearing nothing, Dwayne worked his way slowly away from the camp. The underbrush of leaves and twigs cracked so loudly that he felt as if anything did move, namely Steve, he’d not be able to hear him. Every ten or fifteen steps Dwayne would stop and spread the light in a circle around him, seeing nothing but bark, thorns and leaves.
“Thwack!”
Dwayne didn’t hear it. He didn’t see it coming. Out of the blackness swung a four foot pick axe, with a solid iron head. The tip of the tool entered Dwayne’s head just under his left eye and lodged it’s eight inch spear with a solid thud into his skull. He fell to his knees, and keeled forward. There was no chance to yell or call for help, or even to fight back. The impact with the ground only drove the axe deeper into his brain. He was dead within thirty seconds.
(5)
“Those two must be getting it on in there” Jack said after another thirty minutes had passed since Dwayne followed Steve into the woods.
“You think?” asked Luke. “Oh well… too bad for them… just means more beer for us.”
By this time, Jack had consumed nearly a twelve pack, and Luke was catching up fast. The two continued to reminisce, and at one point Jack began dancing through the camp fire, throwing a storm of sparks sailing skyward.
“So what if he found out” Jack said, as he jigged in the hot coals. “He such a pussy… what’s he gonna do anyway?”
“I don’t think you want to find out Jack…” said Luke. “I sure as hell don’t want to find out.”
Luke rose and said “I’m gonna see where the hell those two have wandered off to.”
“I might as well come with” said Jack, stepping out of the fire and shaking the embers from his boots. “And when we find those two doing each other over a stump, I’m gonna kick their asses” He let out a chortle, and grabbed another mag-lite from his bag.
Jack and Luke tried to shake the barley induced fog from their heads as they slowly picked their way around the trees and brambles. Luke followed Jack closely, as the beam of the light trailed off at about ten feet. They were only ten minutes into the walk when Jack crashed his head into something hanging from above.
“Damn!” he cried out.
“What! What!” Luke said as Jack lurched forward, putting his head in his hands.
The beam of the light shone upward as Jack raised his hands to his head. Hanging from a limb, directly above them was Dwayne. A rope bound his feet together and was strung over a thick tree limb. Jack had hit his head on the blunt end of the pick axe, still protruding from the place where only an hour ago, Dwayne’s eye had been.
“Jesus Christ!” yelled Luke. “Holy Mother of God!”
Blood was dripping from the end of the axe, onto the ground at their feet, staining the leaves and soil below a deep purple in the dim light of the mag-lite.
“Damn Jack! It’s Dwayne!” Luke was beginning to panic. Streams of sweat were pouring from his face, dripping from his chin and the tip of his nose.
Jack was rubbing the top of his head with one hand, and shone the light on Dwayne with the other.
“I see that…” he replied. “What the…”
Jack directed the beam up Dwayne’s inverted body, to the rope over the limb and followed it back down to find it tied around the trunk of another tree. Luke was still sputtering, repeating himself and sweating profusely.
“C’mon… Help me get him down” Jack said as he moved to the rope tied around the tree.
“Christ man, he’s dead!” Luke whined.
“No shit man! We might be next if we don’t get ourselves together and get out of here.” Both of the men were now dead sober. Jack cut through the rope with a utility knife he had strapped to his belt and slowly lowered Dwayne’s body to the ground.
“We’re going to have to carry him back to the fire, and then see if we can find Steve.” Jack said as he reached down and pulled the axe from his life long friend’s face. A sickening suction sound was made as he yanked at the handle. Luke instantly doubled over and vomited.
“You’re worthless” Jack said, hefting Dwayne over his shoulder and starting the walk in the opposite direction from which they’d come.
“Well excuse the hell out of me Jack!” Luke yelled in return. He followed Jack as fast as his jelly legs would allow him.
(6)
Back at the fire, now a pile of hot embers, Jack laid Dwayne’s body next to the log they’d been sitting on throughout the day. He took a small blanket from his bag and covered his friend’s face and upper body. Next, he reached into Steve’s backpack and extracted another flashlight, handing it to Luke.
“Since you’re so pathetic, you go back to the car and drive to town and get the police. I’m going back in to find Steve.” He didn’t wait for Luke to argue, but stepped around him and re-entered the forest.
Luke was slack jawed, staring at the lifeless body of the man he’d considered his best friend since childhood. He couldn’t believe this was happening. In a moment of clarity, he reached in his pocket and plucked out his cell phone. Flipping the lid open he checked for a signal. No bars.
“Damn Dwayne” he said to his friend. “I can’t just leave you here…” He was weeping by now. He bent over, gathered his friend from the ground, and hefted him over his shoulder.
Luke had made it back to the parking area, stopping along the way to lean against a tree and catch his breath, and his wits. Since Dwayne had driven, Luke summoned the courage to reach in Dwayne’s pocket and retrieve the keys to the rental they’d driven to the park. No sooner had he laid Dwayne into the back seat and stood back up Luke heard the crunch of gravel directly behind him. He spun around and…
Part III
(7)
Was there a psycho on the loose? Maybe. Stranger things had happened. Jack ran the gauntlet of possibilities as he slowly snaked his way through the eerie darkness. This was Wisconsin he thought, home of Jeffrey Dahmer and Edward Gein. Christ, was he going to wind up in a vat, or as a skin lamp sitting in someone’s living room?
The snapping of branches to his right caused him to spin and freeze, training his beam in the darkness. The crushing of underbrush continued and a pair of eyes reflected back to him… eyes attached to a small deer. They stared at each other for a brief moment, before the animal leapt away. He was losing it now.
Tentatively, Jack pushed further into the trees, fighting the urge to turn and run. A thought seized him. What if this was Steve out here? Maybe Steve had lost it. What did that bitch Maddy say to him? What did she tell him? Would it be enough to make Steve go mad? Steve was Jack’s best friend after all. He decided that there was no way anything Mean Maddy could say anything that would make Steve slide this far. Not far enough to kill. In his entire life, Steve hadn’t harmed a soul. This was way past what Steve was capable of.
Jack was stepping through a thick clump of thorny bushes when he tripped over what he thought was a downed tree. The mag-lite had flown from his grip in the impact with the ground and was shining back upon him, laying five feet in front of him. He’d landed on his hands and knees, and luckily not fallen upon anything. Rising to his knees, he brushed the leaves and dirt from his hands and looked around him to see what had caused his fall. His heart sank. Three feet behind him, protruding from the clump of branches exposed by the light were a pair of boots… Steve’s boots.
He was speechless. Steve was laying face down in the thorny thicket and wasn’t moving. Grabbing the light, Jack began to pull the branches off of his friend, shredding his hands on the thorns in the process. He had cleared enough of the thicket from the body to pull Steve out. Jack reached down to grab Steve around the waist when a shroud of darkness cloaked his eyes.
(8)
Jack’s neck was throbbing, shooting pain through his spine into the base of his skull which bounced in his head. He blinked to clear his eyes, but the pitch of the night provided nothing to focus on. Attempting to stand, he discovered his hands were bound, as well as his feet.
“What the hell is going on? What do you want?” he called out.
A blaze of light scorched his face, followed by a voice. A familiar voice.
“You’re awake” the voice said. “I was starting to think you’d just die. I’m glad we get to have this little chat now”
“What the hell are you doing out here?” Jack asked. “Did you…”
“Yes. I did” said the voice. “Steve… he was too drunk to even know he was being murdered.”
Jack struggled against his bindings, trying to free himself from certain death.
“Dwayne? I never did like him… always saying “man” and “dude”. I enjoyed sticking him.”
“God…” Jack sighed. “Why are you doing this?”
“Ah Luke… he was sweet. But he had to go, didn’t he. I mean, we can’t have loose ends now, can we?” the voice replied, moving closer.
“C’mon… don’t do this…” Jack was pleading now.
“You left me no choice, now did you… Jack. You had already told Luke and Dwayne our little secret. That’s why I had to take care of their little loose ends before I came here”
“You didn’t…” said Jack.
“Oh, but I did. Who else have you told, Jack? You were going to tell Steve too weren’t you?”
“Why would I do that? Nobody would benefit from that…” Jack plead.
“Now now, don’t lie. Did you tell Jill? No, you wouldn’t have done that… would you have… you don’t have the spine.”
The voice moved closer to Jack and he could see the outline of… a pick axe… the same one that he’d pulled from Dwayne not so long ago. He thought of his wife, the plans they’d made, the ranch in Colorado… all drifting away from him now.
“I’d lose everything” the voice said. “The house, the money, the kids. That just won’t do”
The figure raised the weapon high, and as it began to fall toward his head, Jack said softly, “Maddy, please don’t, Derik’s our son…” Jack closed his eyes, and lowerin his head his last words were, “Steve… I’m so sorry”
