Fledgling [On Hold]

Chapter Three

Three

Sirens from any emergency vehicle on the island wailed throughout the woods, their roaring echo complementing one another making their force even louder.  The red and blue lights of the fire trucks and engines reflected off of the crashing water as they scrambled to control the ever-rising flames, glistening and crackling as they grew higher and higher.  

“He took him!” Kathryn bawled, kneeling down to the ground.  “The son of a bitch took my baby!”  Her sadness had turned to anger once she was able to push the thought our of her mouth and verbalize what had happened.  She screamed with all of her might and yet remained silent, except for the loud gasp of air as she inhaled.  Eric paced nervously back and forth, not knowing what to do.  The police were on their way from the mainland, and until they arrived he felt useless.  

A disheveled ranger stepped out of his pickup truck and slowly worked his way over to where Kathryn stooped on the ground.  As he shuffled across the dirt he kicked up dust and rocks, all blending in to his light brown dress uniform.  “Ma’am, my name is Rich,” he said in his nasally voice, pushing his glasses further up his face with the palm of his hand.  “What exactly happened here?”

Kathryn looked up at him in disbelief, that he hadn’t a clue what had happened.  “Your damn forest is burning to the ground behind me, if you don’t realize, and this bastard that was camping next to us in this plot here kidnapped my son!  Nobody told you yet?  You couldn’t figure it out by yourself?”

“There’s no need to yell at me, miss, I am only asking questions.”  Eric focused his attention on what the man was going to say next, stopping behind Kathryn, waiting.  “Now, who is this man you mentioned?”

“He was the one camping in that plot,” she said pointing to her left.  “He was with us on the ferry and then pulled in just a couple minutes after we arrived here.”

The man looked down at the file he was holding, flipping through several pieces of paper.  “I am terribly sorry, but there was nobody camping here.”  He held out the paper and pointed at the plot schematic, showing Number 67 as open.  Eric had walked over by now, glaring down at the shorter man as he still tried to defend himself.  “Sir, I am terribly sorry for your…” he began, as Eric’s face tightened.  

Eric braced himself, planting his feet firmly on the ground, and bore down all of his weight onto the ranger’s body, hurling him to the ground.  Eric stood over him, grimacing, as Kathryn tried to compose herself just enough to pull Eric away from him.  It took a couple tugs on his arm, but Eric finally turned away from the warden to his wife.  Glancing over Kathryn’s shoulder, he was able to make out several police interceptor boats making their way to the island.  He was able to calm himself just enough to allow the man to hoist himself up, the earth blending into his sepia attire.  

The police were a few minutes away from arriving at the campsite.  Kathryn held on to Eric’s forearm as she sat down in the lawn chair next to where she was standing.  He looked down into her brown, watery eyes—fear and sadness screamed from them as she blinked to try to clean the tears welling up on her contact lenses.  “I’m going to lose my baby,” she tried to verbalize to Eric, pushing the sound out even though her body wouldn’t let her.  “I’m never going to see my boy again.”  

Eric ripped his hand away and walked in a circle around where she sat, holding his hands together behind his neck.  “Eric, what is it?” she asked, sensing that there was something he wanted to say.  He shook his head, letting his cheeks inflate as he het out a deep breath.  “Eric, tell me what you’re thinking.”

“Our son is gone because of you, Kath.”

“What?  What do you mean he’s gone because of me?  How did I have anything to do with that?”