Carl
They were Danny’s footprints in the snow. No doubt about it. Carl watched Sokowski stop at the base of the tree and peer up toward the deer stand that was built on the side of the large pine. Sokowski was winded from the long hike up the hill, chest rising and falling as he tried to get his breath back. The whiskers below his nose and down on the tip of his beard were frozen with snot. He knelt into the snow and took a closer look at the footprints. They were pretty fucking fresh.
“Those his?” Carl asked. He already knew that they were.
Sokowski nodded. “Must have slept up there. Retard’s smarter than I thought he was. I was hoping that the dumb bastard would have frozen to death during the night. Would have saved us the trouble.” He stood and looked out into the woods, rubbed at his bad ear to warm it up a little. “He can’t be far. Should be able to find him pretty quick.”
Sokowski reached into his jacket and pulled out a Baggie of weed and rolling papers. Carl watched silently while Sokowski rolled a fat joint as easily as buttering a slice of toast, then put it between his lips and fired it up. He took a couple of tokes, held it and offered the joint to Carl. Carl shook his head and looked away.
“Don’t be such a pussy. This shit’s almost done.”
Carl shivered even though he had on a thick layer of clothing and was sweating a little. He got to thinking about Kelly, probably at home, all pissed off that he hadn’t even called. Probably thinking that he’d hooked up with some skank. Carl wished that she just missed him, wanted him at home so they could spend some time together. But Carl knew she wouldn’t be thinking something like that—that part of their relationship had ended long ago.
“It ain’t right,” Carl mumbled quietly.
“What ain’t?”
Carl cleared his throat. “All this. It wasn’t supposed to happen. I think we should stop.”
Sokowski took another hit and looked at Carl with a crooked smile. “Just stop and go home? Eat a pizza, watch some TV, and pretend it didn’t happen? Kinda late for that, ain’t it?”
“That ain’t what I’m saying.”
“Yeah? Well, what exactly are you saying, Carl?”
Carl looked at him. Wished that Sokowski wasn’t so damned bullheaded, but he knew that he would never change. Never.
“Nothing.”
“That’s what I figured. Fuck, you’re thick.” Sokowski took another hit of the joint and pinched off the tip and put the roach into his pocket. He slung his rifle to the other shoulder and started following Danny’s footprints deeper into the woods. Carl looked up at the deer stand, then followed after Sokowski like a beaten pup.
