Defensive Action. Jenna Kernan

      Aquatic:

      Swimming

      Boating

      Canoeing

      Kayaking

      Jet Skis

      White-water Rafting

      Cliff Jumping

      She planned to avoid every last one.

      “Of course,” she said, lifting her chin and daring him to refute her bravado.

      He snorted and returned to loading a backpack with the food bag, a small camping stove, two fuel tanks and a mess kit. To this, he added two small nylon tents.

      “Did you have to provide sleeping bags?” he asked.

      “Yes.”

      He took two bed pads and tied them on the top of the pack. “Get another pack,” he said.

      She selected one and brought it to him. He added rope, headlamps and arrows. To his pack he tied an archery bow. The weapon was meant for recreation but in the right hands it was silent and it could be deadly. He shook out a woolen army blanket and sliced a slit in the center, transforming it into a poncho, which he slipped over his head.

      “See if you can find matches or a lighter.” He located hiking maps and a guidebook to the Adirondack hiking trails and added these to his bundle. He tried to find two-way radios but settled for bug spray, sunscreen, a compass and a small folding shovel.

      “What are these?” Haley said, lifting bug coils.

      “Take those,” he said.

      By the time he had the packs ready she had not found matches so they left without them. He used the main entrance to leave the lodge and returned the way they had come. He left both packs and Haley outside the first cabin as he used his blanket to break the back window. Once inside, he found himself in a bedroom that contained two sets of bunk beds. Upon each bunk was a rolled mattress too heavy to bring along and on the box springs sat a pillow, too big to bring along. There were also clean sheets in plastic containers and, bingo, a woolen blanket. He took two blankets and continued on to the kitchen. In the cabinet drawer he found a box of matches. He also purloined a can opener and small paring knife, two spoons, two forks and, from the tinderbox beside the fireplace, a small dull hatchet.

      He half expected to find Haley gone when he returned, but she was there, her long neck stretched to full extension and her head swiveling back and forth.

      Ryan added his new collection of gear to the second pack and helped Haley shoulder the load. He led her down behind the cabins to the lakeshore.

      At the lakefront the water gently lapped the mud and gravel beyond the waiting canoes and kayaks, neatly stored on racks. If he were traveling alone he would have selected a kayak. It was sleeker, faster and required less effort to paddle. However, with Haley along, he instead selected a canoe, rolling it upright and sliding it half into the water. From there he took the pack Haley carried and placed it to the center of the canoe. He added his own pack beside hers so as to balance the load. Then he motioned to Haley.

      “Time to go,” he said.

      But Haley was backing away.

      Ryan released the canoe and took two steps toward her. “Haley?”

      She was shaking her head. “I can’t go with you. I can’t... I don’t know what’s happening but I’ll wait until you leave. Totally out of sight before I call the police.”

      He lifted a hand toward her in a signal to stop and to come and to not make him responsible for this decision. He knew he was not going to force her into the canoe but he knew equally well that if he left her here on the lakeshore, she was sure to die.

      “Haley, you can’t call the police. They’ll turn you over to those men. They’re good. Professionals. You won’t be able to tell the difference between them and the real thing. Neither will the locals. You have to trust me. I know it stinks, but I’m your only chance.”

      “Ryan, no offense. But I don’t know you. I don’t know what you’re involved in but I can’t be involved in it. My dad already paid for this camp. He wants me to get out there and try new things. He thinks... He thinks... I just have to go.”

      “All right, Haley. I’m sorry for involving you in this. And I’m sorry you won’t come with me.”

      She was backing away. Her cautious expression told him that she did not quite believe that he would let her simply leave.

      “Take care,” she said.

      He pushed the canoe farther into the water so that the front end became buoyant and only the back tip of the canoe was in contact with the shore. Then he added both paddles and pushed off. He held the gunwales and seated himself low on the bottom of the canoe. Making himself a smaller target. He used his fingernails to pop off three of the stick-on numbers that identifed the canoe and then lifted a paddle. He was already ten feet from the shore. Haley was a dark silhouette standing silent and motionless on the shoreline. He looked beyond her up the row of smaller cabins and noticed the glint of starlight on a metal roof. There was a vehicle parked in the gravel lot shared by Muskrat, Possum and Rabbit cabins. The vehicle had not been on-site when they entered the lodge.

      Haley was moving now, back toward the cabin she had been assigned.

      He could not call back to her and should not return for her. She’d made her choice. A bad choice, but hers, nonetheless. So he was going to paddle away and let the woman who saved his life walk into the jaws of death.

      Seemingly of its own volition the paddle cut a clean edge through the lake water, turning the canoe back toward shore.