Passion's Wicked Torment

by Melissa Hepburne

  “There!” declared Ray Torry, pointing. “There he is!”

  All eyes turned to the top of the eastward hill. Kristin felt a mix of great relief and terrible fear for Sean’s safety as she saw the object of their stares. Sean McShane was standing at the very apex of the rocky hill, silhouetted against the morning sky.

  McShane stood without any protection, his rifle held in front of his chest. Even at this distance his black britches, the scarlet of his uniform coat and the unmistakable flat-brimmed hat were clearly visible.

  Ambrewster aimed carefully and got off two shots. McShane did not flinch. The bullets went wide. Ambrewster cursed. “It’s impossible to hit him at this range. But get as good a look at him as you can. That’s our man.”

  Johnny grabbed Ambrewster’s shoulder and spun him around to face him. His voice was filled with anger and disbelief. “He’s a Mountie?”

  “You can see for yourself, can’t you?”

  “You brought us in to knock off a damn Mountie? A cop?” He moved back a pace. “Ambrewster, you’re crazy. Living out here in the sticks has made you loco. Me and my brother, man, we’re not dumb enough to knock off a damn cop!”

  “What’s the matter? You scared?”

  “No, just smart. Can you believe this man, Ray?”

  But Ray’s attention was focused on the woods around them, listening with ears perked, scanning to make sure there was no one else with the Mountie. He left the arguing to his younger brother, who was the brains of the outfit. “You tell him, Johnny-boy.”

  Ambrewster squinted over his rifle again and squeezed off another shot. It churned up a splintering of rock on the mountain, several feet below McShane.

  Johnny angrily swiveled Ambrewster back to face him. “We don’t play games in Chicago. We know the limits. We don’t knock off cops. Now you got us all the way out here for nothing, and you’re going to have to pay. Three grand apiece, just like we agreed on.”

  Ambrewster was not frightened of Johnny Torry. He slapped his hand away from his shoulder and stood up to his full height, his expression cold and calculating. He had everything figured out. This hitch in his plans did not bother him because he knew he was cunning enough to handle it. “You listen to me, punk. You want your money, you’re going to have to help me knock off this Mountie. Because the money’s in the town bank, just like I told you, and he is now standing between us and the bank. Or haven’t you noticed?”

  "I—"

  “Shut up. There’s more. Knocking off this McShane is not like knocking off a cop. He’s a renegade Mountie. He ignores most any crime short of murder, and he hardly ever wears his uniform. They only use him because no one else would sign up in this area. So the rest of the R C M P aren’t going to be falling all over themselves to go after us. Understand?”

  “Here’s what I understand, Ambrewster. Me and my brother are going to get double what we agreed on. Six grand apiece, that’s our new fee. You either agree to that, or you don’t.” His rifle was raised slightly now, held loose and ready for action. Ambrewster looked at it and understood that if he did not agree, he would not live to enjoy any of the money in his bank account.

  He nodded and put on a wolfish grin. “Sure, Johnny-boy. There’s plenty to go around. I agree to that.” Johnny would not be placated by the grin. He was all business now. “Here’s the way I figure it,” he said. “He’s alone out there.” He nodded toward the Mountie. “Otherwise he wouldn’t be grandstanding it like that. If there were more than just him, they’d have sneaked up on us from different directions.”

  “He’s alone all right. I know why he’s coming after me, and he wouldn’t want witnesses around to watch it.”

  “So I say you and Ray keep him busy up there atop the hill, and I’ll circle around and sneak up on him from behind.”

  “Fine. There’s only one path up that hill. The rest of it is too rocky to climb. It’s just one big boulder really, with jutting rocks all over it. You can take the path that’s up the left side. It’s covered with tall wild grass, and you can manage it on foot. And he won’t be able to see you coming either, until you get almost to the top. That’s the only place where the path is in view.”

  “You’ll keep him busy. Right?”

  Ray spoke up for the first time. “I’ll keep him busy. But it almost don’t look like we need to. He’s a dumb one. Lookit how he just stands there staring down at us.”

  From behind them suddenly came the sound of Kristin screaming to McShane. “Sean, look out! They’re going to—”

  But before she could get the words out, Ambrewster was upon her, shoving his hand over her mouth. She tried to bite him, but his palm pressed so hard against her that it was impossible. Then Ray Torry was with him, taking a red bandanna from a saddlebag and stuffing it into Kristin’s mouth. He tied it in place with her own scarf.

  She couldn’t scream now. She could barely keep from choking. Ambrewster shot her a stare drenched with violence. “I’ll take care of you later for that.”

  “All right,” said Johnny from where he was still scanning the bushes near the edge of the clearing. “I’m off.” In a half-crouch, he disappeared into the bushes.

  The other two men began firing at McShane in long intervals so as not to drive him away with too threatening a rate of fire. McShane still stood silhouetted against the now brightly lit sky, his legs braced apart. He took aim with his rifle and fired back, missing by a long shot.

  The exchange of shots went on for a half-hour. It was crazy, since none of the men would be able to hit the others except by an extremely lucky shot. So why didn’t McShane stop this nonsense and guess what they were really up to? Kristin was beside herself with fear and worry. Johnny Torry would be upon him any second now, yet McShane did not move from his perch atop the hill. Didn’t he realize what their plan must be? He could see that one of the men was missing from the encampment. He must realize it! she thought to herself. But obviously he didn’t.

  “Johnny-boy will be up behind him any second now,” said Ray happily. “It won’t be long now.” He was happy because he was thinking about the extra 3,000 dollars he would earn as a result of this little hindrance, which turned out to be not much of a hindrance at all. And then, when the Mountie was out of the way, there would be the girl for him to take pleasure in. He turned his head back for a moment to look at her, becoming excited again seeing her strung up almost nakedly, anticipating what it was going to be like.

  Suddenly there was a loud scream of agony from the hill. Ray jerked his head back to the front. It was Johnny’s voice, and the scream went on and on.

  Ray tensed and became ashen. “What’s he doing to him? What’s he doing to my brother?!”

  McShane, though, was obviously doing nothing. He remained on the top of the hill. He was casually reloading his rifle after having just fired down at them again.

  The sound of Johnny’s screams continued, more agonized than before. “What in the hell is happening to him?” Ray demanded, bolting out of the clearing. “Torry, wait! He must have another man with him!” “I’ve got to help Johnny-boy!” he cried as he disappeared from view. They heard the thrashing sound as he tore through the bushes. He appeared several minutes later at the base of the hill, circling around it. Then he was gone from sight again. Ambrewster began firing at McShane, desperate to keep him occupied again. But this time, McShane did not respond as he had earlier. He turned and disappeared from sight.

  “Torry!” Ambrewster yelled in a panic. “He’s gone from the top! He’s on his way down to you! He’s—” But there was a rifle shot, more muffled than the others, not as sharp. It seemed to come from the side of the hill. Then there was no sound at all. The screams of Johnny Torry had ceased even before the shot by a few seconds.

  Kristin perked up her ears for any sign of who might have been the survivor. Ambrewster did likewise. He looked over at her, underscoring the fact that they shared a common crucial interest now: They both needed to know who had survived that enc
ounter.

  Looking at her, he had an idea. He glanced at the hill to make sure no one was coming forward, then went to the tree where Kristin was suspended. He put down his rifle and quickly took a knife from its scabbard on his belt. Then he cut the ropes at both her ankles. He reached up and slashed the rope binding her wrists together above the tree branch. Kristin immediately crashed to the ground, her knees too weak at the moment to support her.

  “Get up, get up,” he ordered, putting the knife to the side of her throat as he pulled her up by her arm. She rose shakily. The first thing she did was yank down the hem of her sweater, pulling it back into place. Then she pulled up her pants. “Get that gag off your mouth,” Ambrewster said.

  Gladly she fiddled with the knot behind her head. Her fingers were too numb, though, and her hands too shaky from the physical ordeal of having been suspended for so long. Ambrewster knocked her hands away, inserted his blade point inside the cloth scarf and sliced it open. Kristin spit out the gag. She took deep breaths of air, finally able to breathe through her mouth again. Ambrewster retied her wrists behind her.

  “Call to him,” Ambrewster ordered.

  “What?” Her voice was weak.

  “Call to him. Tell him I’ll kill you if he doesn’t show himself and throw down his gun.” He was holding her arm again, and the knife blade was against her neck. He began walking her forward toward the hill, through the woods, keeping her in front of him for protection.

  “How do you know it’s . . . him? It might be that other one. Your friend.”

  “It’s him,” Ambrewster said, nervously shifting his eyes to the right and left as he walked. “If it was Ray, he’d have yelled out to us by now. Now talk to him! Do as I tell you. I know you know him. You called out his name before when you tried to warn him.”

  They were approaching the base of the hill. Ambrewster twisted her arm up behind her, hurting her, making her cry out. “You want to die?” he hissed. “Do as I told you!”

  “Sean!” she yelled. “He has a knife to my neck! He says he’ll kill me!”

  “If he doesn’t show himself! Tell him that if he doesn’t show himself, I’ll kill you!”

  She refused to speak further. When he twisted her arm again, she winced and yelped, unable to help herself. But she would not say the words he wanted. She would not help him kill Sean.

  Ambrewster spoke himself, loudly, into the empty area near the base of the hill. “All right, McShane, it’s me. You know about me, and I know about you. Well, I got your woman here, McShane. And I’m going to kill her if you don’t come out into the open, your hands over your head.”

  There was no answer.

  “McShane!” he called out, his voice becoming desperate. “I’m not bluffing, McShane!” To prove this, he pressed the tip of the knnfe against Kristin’s neck, breaking the skin slightly and drawing a drop of blood. Kristin was terrified, but still she did not scream. She knew he wanted her to scream; that was why he did this. His face loomed up in her vision. “Scream, damn you,” he growled with rasping venom.

  Still she remained silent. There was no sign of McShane. Ambrewster continued walking her slowly up the path of tall grass. He held her close in front of him, his arm inserted behind her arms, which were tied behind her so that when he saw McShane, Kristin would be between the two of them. He held her so tightly that she would not be able to leap off to the side or to duck down. His strategy was to keep moving forward up the path until he encountered the Mountie. McShane could only be somewhere along the path or at the top of the hill now, for the sides of the path were raised, slick boulders before a steep drop off.

  The rise became steeper. As they continued up, they came to a slight turn in the path. They advanced past it cautiously, Kristin still directly in front of Ambrewster. There on the trail they saw a sickening sight: Kristin drew in her breath sharply. It was Johnny-boy lying sprawled unconscious or dead on the trail, his leg in a giant bear trap that came clear up to his knee, locking his leg in its metal jaws. The leg was bloody.

  So that was why Sean had not left the top when Johnny-boy was sneaking up on him, Kristin realized. He’d wanted him to sneak up on him! He’d set his trap and was waiting for him to walk into it. She remembered seeing a metal contraption on the back of Sean’s horse when he had left the cabin. She had not realized then that it was a bear trap.

  “You bastard!” Ambrewster yelled up to the unseen McShane. “You son-of-a-bitch bastard!"

  Kristin could tell he was furious, not because he gave a damn whether his hired killer lived or died. No, he was upset because McShane had outwitted him. Ambrewster had come with two professional killers to slay McShane, but through cunning and ingenuity the Mountie had managed to even up the odds.

  Ambrewster was certain he had a winning hand now though. He had a shield that he was sure McShane would not try to shoot through. He even felt confident enough now to make a perverse joke. “I’m glad it’s you walking in front, instead of me,” he said to Kristin, nodding down at the bear trap and its victim as they passed it. And in fact, Kristin was sufficiently unnerved so that she was looking very carefully before she took each step.

  Not long thereafter, they saw what had happened to Ray Torry. His pinstrίpe Chicago suit coat had a splotch of blood soaking through the back as it covered the sprawled form that lay across the trail, the legs at sharp angles. His gun was still in his immobile hand, and his black Chicago hat was still on his head.

  “Bastard,” cursed Ambrewster, seething, as he and Kristin came up to the body. They were so near the top now that every one of Ambrewster’s senses was keenly alert, and his eyes were sharply focused up the trail. McShane had to be at the very top now. There seemed to be no other possibility. And they were almost upon him. Ambrewster barely glanced at Ray’s sprawled body on the trail as Kristin and he stepped over it and continued up the last few paces to the crest of the hill. Kristin could sense his alertness from the way he held her and from the way his breathing had become steady and very quiet. She was distraught with worry. There seemed to be nothing Sean could do. His situation was almost hopeless.

  “Here we come, McShane!” Ambrewster shouted as he prepared to push Kristin ahead of him up the last few feet, past the crest where he was sure McShane now stood. “Here we come!” he yelled again.

  “Good,” said a low voice directly behind him. “I’ve been waiting a long, long time.”

  Ambrewster turned around abruptly to face McShane, releasing Kristin. He did not have time to turn her in an arc with him. Kristin dove down to the ground. A shot rang out. She turned and saw Ambrewster staggering about, holding his right arm. His gun had dropped as the bullet from McShane’s pistol shattered the bone.

  Kristin saw now how McShane had gotten behind them. It was not Ray Torry who had lain sprawled on the trail. It was McShane, who had put on Torry’s jacket and hat. Torry had undoubtedly been dragged up to the top of the knoll after Sean had killed him. Kristin saw the cold, murderous look in Sean’s face now. She thought about his dead partner, Ned, who had been shot in both arms and both knees. She looked at Ambrewster, who was staggering around in shock, a bullet in one arm.

  “No, Sean,” she pleaded. “Don’t do it. It’s too savage.”

  He said nothing. His face was set in stone. He seemed almost not to have heard.

  “Don’t,” she pleaded, still on the ground. “It’ll reduce you to their level. It’ll make you no better than them.”

  He glanced at her. Her words had gotten through. She was not surprised then when he fired off a single bullet into Ambrewster’s chest, killing him instantly. This was the best she could have expected. She knew he would kill the man. But this was more merciful than the way he had planned on doing it.

  Ambrewster dropped to the grassy path like a sack of rocks. Sean glanced at him only a moment longer, satisfying himself that he had at last fulfilled his promise to his dead partner. Then he rushed to Kristin and untied her hands. He raised her up in his arms. �
��My love,” he said with concern. “Are you all right?”

  She nodded. She could not trust herself to speak. This ordeal had been more intense than any she had ever experienced. She moved her lips close to him and kissed him, just a peck. He, in turn, kissed her passionately, hugging her to him.

  Then, reluctantly, he set her down. It was time to attend to the finishing-up details now. He took off Ray Torry’s blood soaked coat and hat and threw them down on the trail. Then he hiked up the last few feet to the crest of the knoll and picked up his own scarlet jacket, Sam Browne belt, and hat, which lay near the corpse. Kristin turned her eyes away from the corpse. Torry had been shot in the chest as he ran up the path to Sean, blinded by emotion after seeing his younger brother in the bear trap. The bullet had gone clear through him, accounting for the blood splotch in the back of the jacket.

  McShane picked up his rifle and started down the hill toward Johnny-boy. “Hold this,” he said to Kristin, giving her the weapon. Then he bent all his strength to the task of prying open the bear trap and locking the jaw apart with a latch. He removed Johnny-boy, who was still alive but unconscious, and slung him over his shoulder. Then he started down the path.

  “I told you not to come,” he said to Kristin, who was behind him.

  “I saw his horse in the town stables. The black stallion with the tawny left flank. I thought he was in town and would sneak up on you from behind. I had to warn you.” She saw no point in mentioning that she intended to disobey his orders and join him even before she had seen the stallion.

  “How could this horse have been in the stable?” McShane asked, slinging Johnny-boy over the back of his own mount as they reached the base of the hill. “He came from Tarryton, just as I expected. Along the road from Tarryton, not from Yukon.”

  Kristin’s face showed her perplexity. “Who could that have been in town, then, the man who was asking questions about me? The stranger who rode in on the stallion?”