The River of Bones--An Archie Hunter Adventure

by E C Hunter

  “Look”, shouted Milly “up ahead, a rise, look, we can make it.” The harvester roared on, snapped at their heels, they could feel the wind from its harvesting head and sense the vibration in the air as it swung wildly. The rise was a sandstone cliff, little over a metre high but unassailable to the big machine. They jumped, landed sprawling on the top in the leaf mould and lay still. The machine braked hard and came to a stop at the foot of the cliff. Its inexpert driver tried to extend the boom to reach them but managed to hit the wrong lever. The boom dipped and the head plummeted into the rock face. The saw chain was travelling at 40 metres per second. Nowhere near as fast as a rifle bullet but none the less, when the links become separated they disperse like a shotgun. They call it chainshot and it’s why there is a 90 metre exclusion zone when these machines are working.

  As the chain touched the rock the rivets burst and the links separated, liberating the 19mm long cutters. The chain had been replaced at the end of the last working day and was brand new, the cutters razor sharp. Had the toughened windscreen still be in place when the head contacted the rock it would have been perfectly capable of deflecting the chain. However, it had been badly fitted by a tired mechanic on a Friday afternoon. The jarring impact caused it to slip in its frame, not far, but just enough to ensure the driver’s head was exposed.

  A single cutter link flew straight and true, hitting Seamus in the centre of the forehead. In the exact same place he had shot his brother. The cutter tore a ragged hole in skin and skull and brain. It didn’t have the mass or speed to go deep into the brain so it nestled happily in the frontal lobe. Seamus passed into unconsciousness and slumped over the controls.

  Chainshot flew in a deadly arc all around them but the cliff itself gave them protection from the deadly links. A shower of leaves and twigs rained down on them as the wood went quiet. Quiet. That was odd thought Archie. There should be another machine. Where the hell was it? Did it even matter, it wasn’t there? The threat had gone. He looked across at Milly. She was staring down at her brother, watching a slow drip of blood from his wound pool on the floor of the cab.

  “Another one down.” She said with steel in her voice. “Now, where’s that other son of a bitch.”

  “Which one?” Asked Archie, hoping she wasn’t referring to her other brother. He didn’t want to have to go back and see the damage.

  “My damn father.”

  “Guess he’s run.”

  “No chance, not his style, he’ll be finding a way round.” Milly sounded confident. Archie looked around, expecting to see the feller buncher emerge from the trees, Billy Murphy at the controls ginning triumphantly. It didn’t. Nothing happened. There was no sound above the birds, the occasional pink of the cooling engine and the soft sigh of the breeze in the tree tops. Archie stood up.

  “I’ll go and find the bags.” He said, moving to jump down from the “At the very least we need to get a dressing on that hole.”

  “Wait, don’t go out there, I know he’ll be waiting. He’ll kill you for sure now and I couldn’t, well, I couldn’t bear to lose you now.” Milly took his hands in hers and squeezed, hard. The feller buncher roared out of the forest.

  Chapter 54

  There was nowhere to go other than jump down off the small cliff. They did and to their shock and amazement so did the machine. It accelerated hard and lurched down, dragging its rear end down the rock, leaving a smear of green paint and a cloud of rock dust hanging in the air. The header buried itself in the earth momentarily but when the back end hit the ground it spring out sending a rain of soil and leaf litter over Milly and Archie. It took the machine a moment to recover, shuddering like a great beast before it was on them again. Smoke plumed from the exhaust and chipping flew as the they weaved and dodged through the trees, trying to find anything that might impede its pursuit. They turned 90 degrees and ran along the bottom of the sandstone cliff which was now all the time getting higher, by the time it occurred to Archie to go up again it was already too sheer to climb.

  Now they were running downhill, the trees were getting older, larger. The machine was having to weave its way through now. Cutting these massive old giants was not an option. It allowed Milly and Archie to slow down a little and take stock. To their horror they found out something new about the geography, they were in a blind canyon. On three sides were sandstone cliffs, sheer and daunting. Unclimbable. On the fourth side was a psychopath in control of thirteen tons of steel and rubber but barely in control of himself. No way out, no way up, no way back. The machine stopped, deliberately drawing out the tension. The canyon was hot, the stale air trapped and clammy. In the cab of the feller buncher Billy Murphy was feeling the heat too.

  Archie saw the roof hatch pop up. Then he saw something else, something so unexpected and improbable that he could do no more than watch. From the tall tree above the machine a figure dropped silently onto the cab. In the shadows all Archie was aware of was hair and limbs. The figure reached in through the roof hatch and pulled out the driver. Milly covered her eyes as the figure efficiently knocked Billy Murphy unconscious and dropped him the three metres to the ground. He sprawled in an untidy heap in the leaf litter all legs and arms.

  “Got any rope? We’d better get him tied up before he comes round.” Magnus jumped down from the roof of the machine. It might be a cliché to say that they stared open-mouthed but that’s just what they did. The figure they saw was swathed in filthy stinking skins, crude bootees tied onto its feet, exposed areas covered with some noisome goo and stuck all over with forest detritus. His clear green eyes shone out. “Well don’’t just stand there, rope?”

  “Er, in my pack, back out there somewhere.” Archie gestured towards the clearfell, still in a state of astonishment.

  “Off you go then, quick as you like”.

  “I’ll, er, go with him.” Said Milly, not wanting to be left alone with this primal force. They found Milly’s bag first, it was as she left it. The same could not be said for Archie’s bag. It had been run over by the loader and was pressed flat into the earth. He peeled it slowly from the ground, lumps of drying soil and bits of twig cascaded from it. He gave it a gentle shake. Something rattled ominously. He decided not to investigate further.

  “Come on, let’s get back.”

  “We can cut through the hole in the windrow, look.” Milly pointed to the gaping chasm cut by the machines. Archie had led them up the side they had originally been moving down so as to avoid the sight of Patrick. He’d seen enough death and injury to last a lifetime in the past few days.

  “No, we should go back the way we came, we don’t want to get lost.” He was gabbling and he knew it.

  “Come on, we won’t get lost, not possible.” She set off and there was nothing Archie could do to stop her. All he could do was follow. As soon as they passed through the hole they could clearly see the bulk of the loader, massive and yellow. Once they passed it there was no way they could avoid seeing Milly’s brother, lying there with who knew what ghastly injuries. Archie dawdled, trying to find a convincing reason to persuade Milly to turn around with but nothing would come. They drew level with the great machine, it’’s engine still idling, ready for its operator.

  “Where’s Patrick? I thought he would be here. I know what you did.”

  “I, er, don’t know, he, well. What I did? What did I do?” Archie couldn’t tell what she knew, the truth? That wouldn’t be good at all.

  “I don’t know how you did it but you got one of my brothers to shoot the other, didn’t you?” She said with confidence. Archie heaved an inward sigh of relief.

  “It wasn’t intentional, it just happened.”

  “Hmmm, anyway, where is he?”

  “Well, just in front of the machine. Or at least he was.” Archie looked around bewildered. He had seen the body. OK it had been from a distance but he knew what had happened. It took a few moments but eventually he found it. A patch of clotted blood, almost as dark as the earth on which it lay. The only other ev
idence visible was some light scuffing and drag marks. A short distance away lay the rifle, partially hidden by brash. The working parts destroyed, blood staining the stock. Surreptitiously Archie tried to kick soil over the blood clots. Milly noticed. Inevitably.

  “I saw that. It’s OK, I’m not going to vom or freak out. I don’t think you’ve really grasped it have you?”

  “What?” asked Archie, mystified.

  “My brothers and father treated me like shit.” She rolled up her sleeves. “Look”

  “Are those…?” He couldn’t bring himself to say it.

  “Uh huh, cigarette burns, except that big one there” she pointed at a scar over two centimetres across, “that was a cigar, my Dad, last Christmas. He lost at cards, took it out on me. You cannot imagine how bad the last few years have been. You cannot imagine how deep is my hatred of these animals.” It was beyond Archie’s comprehension. Things like that just didn’t happen in real life. It was fiction, TV drama surely. But there was the proof, right there on Milly’s otherwise flawless skin.

  “Jesus, I’m sorry. I had no idea.”

  “All I’m saying is that it’s OK, whatever you did, it’s OK. I’’m going to be free of them and that’s all that matters. I don’t care if they are burning in hell or rotting in jail. I’m not looking for pity, what’s done is done.” She rubbed his arm. “Come one, we need to get back.” They set off at a jog. “Still doesn’t explain where Patrick is though.”

  “Guess not.” Agreed Archie, hoping to have dropped the subject.

  They could hear the beat of the feller bunchers’ engine, still running, as they approached. But something else had changed. The man lying on the ground wasn’t Billy Murphy, it was Magnus Hunter. The man standing up was Billy Murphy. In his hand was an ugly looking revolver. Black, stubby barrel, long cylinder. A Smith and Wesson Governor. Awful and deadly.

  “And here’s my pretty little girl, come to join the party.”

  “Shut it.”

  “Respect, young lady. In fact, you’re just in time to find out why people should respect me.”

  “Respect has to be earned you moron, you can’t just throw your weight around, that’s not respect, that’s fear.” Said Milly.

  “That’s not a nice thing to say to your dear old pop, perhaps I should off you too. What do you think young man?” He spoke to Archie.

  “I think you need to put the gun down and get out of here.” Said Archie, sounding much braver than he felt. He turned the brutish looking pistol towards Archie.

  “Perhaps you should be first, after all, it’s you who’s caused me most trouble, polluting my daughter with your namby pamby ideas.” Archie bridled. I’ll show you who’s namby pamby he thought and walked over to his father. He knelt down beside him and visually checked him over. It was obvious he hadn’t been shot. “In case you’re wondering, I was just coming round and he keeled over. Dead funny, don’t you think?” Murphy said.

  “Exhaustion I should think.” Said Milly joining Archie. She laid a hand on Magnus’s brow. “Don’t think he’s got a temperature.” There was a polite cough behind them.

  “In case you’d forgotten, I’ve got the gun and I’m making the rules. Now get away from him.” He gestured with the pistol menacingly.

  “I think my friend told you to get out of here.” Said Milly without turning round.

  “Yeah, hop along now.” Added Archie. Milly’s bravery was spurring him on. Without warning Murphy fired the revolver into the ground. The bullet ploughed into the earth between them making the soil jump a little and them jump even further.

  “Move!” He shouted. The menace in his voice blatant, leaving no doubt in Archie’s mind that he was capable of anything. “Go sit by the machine with your hands on your heads. I’ll deal with you two in a minute.” They had no choice and complied. Murphy checked his load, slammed the cylinder home and spun it. “OK Mr Hunter, it’s time to leave the planet.” He stood over Magnus and pointed the revolver down at unconscious figure’s head.

  Milly reached for Archie and folded him in her arms, hiding his eyes from the scene before them. It was instinctive and tender. She closed her eyes and buried her face in his hair. Together they waited for the shot and the shots they knew would follow, meant for them. Seconds passed, nothing happened, then a muffled thump. Milly opened her eyes and looked up. Standing in the clearing, holding an unconscious Billy Murphy unceremoniously by the arm was a familiar figure. A hairy, smelly and truly beloved figure. Stinky.

  The Sasquatch looked at them, looked at Murphy, grunted twice and left, dragging Milly’s father behind him. His head seemed to be at a very funny angle to his body. Through the trees mother Sasquatch could be seen dragging another body away, following her son to who knew where but in the days and weeks to come not a sign, hair or trace was found of the three male members of the Murphy family.

  It took a few moments for it to sink in. The danger was gone. As the weight peeled away they stood and stretched, like the subjects in a hypnotists show.

  “I’d better see how Dad’s getting on.” Archie wandered over to his father and checked his breathing and pulse. “Don’t reckon there’s much wrong with him that a couple of good meals and a few days in bed wouldn’t cure. Ha. A few days ago I don’t suppose I’d have thought like that.”

  “Don’t suppose you would, guess we’ve both done some growing eh? Anyway, how do we get him out of here?”

  “Hmm, hadn’t thought of that. Any ideas?”

  “He’s your father.”

  “Shame we haven’t got a garron.”

  “Or a pony, we could make a travois.”

  “Or even a litter.

  “Or even a litter, come on, let’s make a plan.”

  THE END

  Epilogue

  Three months later

  Magnus reclined in the heavy leather office chair with the form in his hands.

  “That’s the registration of a new species form done” Magnus told Archie, “apart from deciding on a name. How do you feel about Homo Silvarum Hunterii? You don’t think that’s a bit big-headed do you?”

  Without a word Archie reached behind him, slipped the Windmill lighter from the mantelpiece and in one deft move he flicked it into life and held the flame to the bottom of the form. Magnus did not react until the flames reached his fingers. He dropped the remains of the charred form into the waste paper bin. They both felt a light touch on their shoulders and looked around. Milly was smiling.

  Acknowledgements

  Henry, without whose forbearance this would not have been possible. Emma Hunneyball who took my words and made them better. Eoghain MacKinnon for Gaelic (pronounced Gallic) translation. Helena and Louis, Canadian hosts extraordinaire. George Urquhart whose memory inspires me, always.

  About the Author

  Hi I'm Edward, Edward Hunter that is. Uncle of Archie, brother of Magnus - you know, the one who is always charging off around the world looking for animals that may or may not exist, yeah, that's him. For my sins I get to stay at home on the Strathnuin Estate near Loch Ness and feel very privileged to look after it on a day-to-day basis. When I'm not organising the guests, trying to find someone to fix the plumbing in one of the holiday lodges or dealing with escaped cattle you can find me in the study of my cosy estate cottage, overlooking the loch, writing about the adventures of Archie and Magnus.

  Read more at E C Hunter’s site.