Fury

by Bill Bright

  A large boulder suited his plan. It was close to the road, but hidden among a cluster of trees. Epps took up a position from where he could see the front door of the tavern.

  He didn’t relax. His eyes were sharp and alert. His muscles twitched like those of a cat crouched and ready to pounce on a bird. He watched the door and waited…

  Daniel opened the door of the tavern and walked into the sunlight, his stomach satisfied. It amazed him how much better the world looked after a hot bowl of oatmeal and a cup of coffee.

  Above him in the trees birds chirped and chased one another from branch to branch. The morning air still had a chill in it, but the sun was warm. For a December day, it couldn’t be any better for traveling.

  He stretched leisurely. Up the road, coming toward him, was a heavy wagon. The first travelers he’d seen on the road today. A woman rode in the seat. A man walked the horse. From what Daniel could make out at this distance, they appeared to be farmers.

  He set off toward them, his head down, the brim of his hat blocking the bright winter sun. He didn’t get far before he heard voices. He glanced up.

  The wagon had stopped in the middle of the road. The farmer stood off to one side. He looked like he was arguing with a huge boulder. At first Daniel couldn’t make out what the man was saying. He began to get agitated and started shouting at the boulder, something about common decency.

  The farmer was big and beefy, his hair gray and pulled straight back. His movements bordered on lumbering, but he looked strong. His hands were huge.

  Daniel slowed, not wanting to interrupt a man who was talking to a rock. In fact, he wanted to keep as much distance from the man as possible. He altered his course to pass by on the far side of the wagon.

  As he got closer, Daniel could hear the farmer asking the rock for directions. Then, just as he reached the wagon, he saw another figure in the shadows. He only caught a glimpse of it, but that was all he needed.

  And that was all the man behind the boulder needed.

  It was Epps—the killer!

  Charging from behind the rock, Epps shoved the farmer aside to get to Daniel.

  Startled, the farmer’s wife screamed.

  Daniel jumped behind the wagon, putting it between him and Epps. Clutching opposite sides, they locked gazes. A wooden bed and some old farm tools were the only things separating Daniel from the man he knew was determined to see him dead.

  Just then the farmer approached.

  Epps drew his knife.

  The farmer pulled back and threw up his hands to signal compliance.

  “Everyone! Stay right where you are!” Epps shouted.

  The farmer’s wife turned in her seat, her eyes fixed on the huge metal blade.

  “We don’t want no trouble!” the farmer said.

  “This man’s a murderer!” Daniel shouted. “He’s trying to kill me! You’ve got to help me!”

  “He’s lying!” Epps growled. “The boy stole money from his employer, and he’s trying to skip town. Help me catch him, and there’s a reward in it for you.”

  Daniel didn’t like the way the farmer’s eyes lit up at the promise of money. “I didn’t steal any money!” he insisted.

  He would have pressed his case, but Epps began moving to his left. Daniel countered, moving toward the back of wagon and the open road. Then Epps changed direction, forcing Daniel back to the middle of the wagon.

  His eyes darting this way and that, looking for something—anything—that could get him out of this alive, Daniel spied a pitchfork in the bed of the wagon. Epps, following Daniel’s gaze, must have seen it too. He brandished his knife, almost daring Daniel to reach for the pitchfork. He would do so at the risk of losing a few fingers.

  “I’m no threat to you or Mr. Gregg,” Daniel insisted. “I’m leaving town. Just let me go.”

  “It’s too late for that, boy,” Epps said.

  They glared at each other, waiting for the other to make a move.

  To the farmer, Epps said, “I’m going to move toward the back of the wagon. When the boy comes around to your side, grab him. Got that?”

  The farmer nodded that he understood.

  Epps began working his way toward the back of the wagon.

  Daniel countered, moving toward the front, keeping one eye on the farmer. As he got close to the farmer’s wife, she eyed him warily and scooted to the far side of the bench.

  The farmer reached into the back of the wagon and grabbed the pitchfork. Epps nodded his approval.

  As Epps rounded the back of the wagon, Daniel had the horse by the reins. Could he swing a leg up on the horse and make a run for it? he wondered.

  The horse might have read his mind, because it shook its head, and it was right. It was a plow horse, not a thoroughbred, and the wagon was heavy.

  But if not that, what? Daniel was running out of options.

  On one side, Epps was coming toward him.

  On the other stood a farmer with a pitchfork ready to puncture him.

  Daniel glanced behind him to the tavern. Could he make it? Could he outrun Epps? What then? Tavern keepers were notorious for doing almost anything for money. What was to keep the tavern keeper from handing him over to Epps?

  Time was running out. Epps was getting closer.

  Daniel had to make a choice. It was either him or the farmer. Not much of a choice, really. Daniel had seen Epps at work. His only chance lay with the slower farmer, if he could just manage to get past him.

  Daniel committed himself to the farmer’s side.

  Gripping the pitchfork like he was some kind of sentry, the farmer looked him in the eye. “Run for it, boy,” he said.

  At first, Daniel didn’t understand. Was the farmer challenging him, or letting him go?

  “Run!” the farmer said again. This time, he stepped to one side.

  Daniel looked him in the eye and saw no threat. He ran.

  The farmer let him pass.

  Epps cursed.

  With his haversack slapping him in the back, Daniel put every ounce of energy he had into his legs.

  He looked over his shoulder, expecting to see Epps in close pursuit. What he saw made him slow, then stop altogether.

  In anger, Epps had turned on the farmer.

  The farmer, however, moved faster than Daniel had thought possible. He put himself between his wife and Epps, with the pitchfork leveled at Epps’s chest. The length of the pitchfork handle gave him an advantage.

  Epps looked at the pitchfork, at Daniel, back at the pitchfork, and must have decided the farmer was no longer worth the trouble.

  Backing away slowly, he cursed the farmer again, sheathed his knife, and turned back toward Daniel. But he had only taken two steps when he flopped flat on his face!

  Just as he’d started to run, the farmer had swiped the back of his heel with the pitchfork, knocking one foot into the other and sending Epps sprawling.

  Now the farmer stood over him with the pitchfork pressed against his back, telling him to stay down.

  “A man doesn’t settle a score with a knife that size,” the farmer said. He eyed Daniel. “Better skedaddle while the goin’s good, boy. I’ll hold him here long enough for you to get a head start.”

  “Thank you, sir!” Daniel shouted. “Thank you!”

  He took the farmer’s advice and ran.

  Asa sat glumly, holding the reins of his carriage. After inquiring after Daniel at several places in town and coming up empty, he arrived at the grudging conclusion that the boy had left Cumberland. Adrian Marcus, about the only boy he’d been close to in school, hadn’t seen him in weeks. Nor was he at Finney’s Livery, which had a large loft that was popular with boys who for one reason or another couldn’t go home at night.

  Now Asa had to decide whether to waste any more time searching around town. If Daniel had left town, he’d have a good head start by now.

  Asa straightened up, encouraged by an idea. Jake’s Tavern. If the boy had left town, chances were good he’d sto
pped at the tavern on his way out. It was the last place to get food and drink for thirty miles. If someone at the tavern had seen him, at least he’d know which direction the boy was headed. And if they hadn’t seen him, Asa could double back and search the town again.

  With a sigh that signaled he’d come to a decision, Asa flicked the reins while trying to corral his annoyance. Before Daniel had come to live with them, his life had been orderly and predictable, the life of an academic. While some people would have found that life boring, Asa took comfort in it. He’d had his share of drama and excitement when he was younger. Now give him a good book, a cup of tea, a warm fire, and Camilla sitting next to him on the sofa and he was content.

  The sight of a wagon coming toward him broke his reverie. A large man led the horse, walking beside it. A woman sat in the wagon. Asa could ask them if they’d seen a young man fitting Daniel’s description.

  But before he reached them, they turned down Centre Street and headed into the middle of town. Asa considered following them, then decided against it. He’d get what he needed at Jake’s Tavern.

  Chapter 17

  Relentless. The man was relentless.

  Daniel peered over his shoulder. Epps was still there. Still gaining. Twice, Daniel thought he’d lost him. Twice, he’d appeared again.

  Daniel didn’t know how much longer he could keep going. His chest felt like he’d swallowed a torch. His legs were wobbly. No longer could he run in a straight line. He lurched side to side.

  Epps was close enough that Daniel could hear his labored breathing.

  Another glance over his shoulder revealed that his pursuer continued to close the distance between them. Murder lit Epps’s eyes. He reached for his blade and closed for the kill.

  A couple of hundred yards back Daniel had abandoned the road after it turned inland, away from the river. He had hoped that, by doing so, he could lose Epps in the trees, but the woods had thinned to brush for as far as Daniel could see. There was no place to hide.

  He stumbled up a rise and came upon a sudden three-foot drop. Mistiming his jump, his legs gave out under him and he tumbled in the dust.

  His face in the dirt, a part of him gave up, surrendering to death. But he refused to listen to it.

  Struggling to his feet, he looked frantically behind him. Epps was cut off from view. Not by a dirt mound as he expected, but by a three-foot black hole.

  Daniel scrambled toward it and peered inside.

  A cave!

  The entrance had a steep but manageable grade. He snatched a pebble and tossed it inside, listening as it bounced from side to side and kept going into what seemed to be a bottomless shaft. He never heard the pebble hit bottom.

  His choices were two. Risk falling to his death, or stay above ground and get his throat slit. Removing his haversack, he tossed it into the cave, then climbed in after it, feet first.

  The grade proved steeper than it looked. He began to slip, then slip faster. He grabbed at roots, only to have them snap off in his hands. Sharp rock edges cut his fingers. He slid past his haversack, snagged on a root, lunged for it, and got it. It broke free from his weight, and he continued sliding, dragging the haversack with him, the dark swallowing him up.

  Then, just like that, he came to an abrupt halt. His toes hit a ledge and held. But only his toes. The ledge stuck out only a couple of inches, and it had a downward slope.

  Hugging the rock slide, his heart hammering against it, he lay as still as possible, assessing his situation. He was safe for the moment. He had a toehold, but just barely, and he was afraid to reposition them for fear they would slip. A glance down revealed nothing but black.

  Then, everything got even blacker as Epps eclipsed the light coming through the cave entrance. “You down there, boy?”

  Epps moved to one side to let in more light. What he saw must have prompted the wicked grin.

  “Well, there you are! Found yourself a hidin’ hole, did you? Won’t do you no good. Here, let me give you a hand.”

  Scooting on his belly into the hole, he reached down to Daniel, who made no attempt to grab it.

  “Take it! Don’t make me climb down there! I’ll pull you up by the hair.”

  To Daniel’s right, the cave opened up, revealing an antechamber with a landing. Beyond that was a fissure in the cave wall. All Daniel had to do to reach it was jump sideways about four feet over a bottomless abyss from a slippery foothold.

  “Take my hand!” Epps shouted angrily.

  When Daniel didn’t take his hand, Epps crawled closer, his hand feeling for Daniel like some kind of insect antenna.

  His efforts started a small rock slide. Daniel ducked as pebbles hit him on the head and shoulders, then continued past him into the void.

  Epps paused to laugh. His laughter echoed down the cave. “Sounds like that dark space below you stretches to forever, boy. Maybe I won’t have to drag you outta here after all. Maybe all I have to do to send you to your eternal destiny is give you a little nudge.”

  Epps inched his way down farther. His fingers brushed the top of Daniel’s head, trying to tangle themselves in his hair. Daniel ducked to avoid them. His left foot slipped, then held. Rocks echoed down the chasm.

  Epps gave out a grunt as he reached for Daniel. His fingers wiggled in Daniel’s face.

  Daniel arched his back to avoid them. If he was going to make a leap, he was going to have to do it now.

  Across the chasm, the ledge appeared to be an impossible distance away.

  Epps slipped a little closer toward him. He was now in range to knock Daniel from the ledge. The killer’s hand shot toward him.

  Daniel crouched and sprang from the ledge.

  He heard himself scream as he hung suspended between life and death, as though his grave had opened up to receive him, and there was nothing he could do to stop himself from falling through the portal into the next world. He wondered if his parents would be waiting for him on the other side.

  He hit the ledge hard. Pain shot up his legs, then to his shoulder and the side of his head; it was the earth’s way of telling him she wasn’t going to let him go yet.

  “That was stupid. Really stupid,” Epps shouted at him.

  Daniel was glad Epps thought so, because anything he considered a good idea usually had something to do with Daniel’s death.

  Clutching his haversack, Daniel lay on his side, stunned by the pain and realization that he’d just leaped over a bottomless pit. Then, to his amazement, Epps began worming his way out of the hole and, after a brief struggle, disappeared.

  Daniel closed his eyes with relief.

  His relief was short-lived. The sound of loose gravel sent a shiver through him. He opened his eyes to see a pair of legs kicking their way into the cave. Epps was sliding down the cave entrance, just as he had, his feet searching for and finding the ledge.

  Ignoring the pain, Daniel stumbled toward the fissure in the stone wall. The opening was jagged, as though God had torn the rock in two.

  It was a tight fit, too tight for both him and the haversack at the same time. Behind him, Epps was leaping across the chasm. He, too, landed with a cry of pain.

  With unforgiving rock jabbing him in the back, scraping his nose, and forcing his feet sideways, Daniel worked his way deeper and deeper into the fissure. With arms stretched out like he was flying, he pulled his haversack after him as he went.

  He could hear Epps on the landing groaning, getting to his feet, and lumbering to the fissure. As he had at the cave entrance, his hand stretched into the fissure after Daniel. His fingers snagged Daniel’s haversack.

  Daniel tugged to free it. Epps tugged back, scraping Daniel’s knuckles against the rock. Wedged into a crack in the earth, Daniel held on, his fingers cramping. He stepped sideways a half-step and pulled, then got pulled back. Another half-step. He managed to keep this one. Then another. Then the haversack broke free. But its freedom came with a price, the sudden release causing more scraping contact between flesh and roc
k.

  He worked his way through the fissure, toward the dark opening, navigating each step with duck and weave twists, until finally he was on the other side where he found level ground. Pulling his haversack through the crevice, he looked to see if Epps was following him.

  On the far side of the fissure, Epps approached the jagged opening several times, contorting his body this way and that, trying to find the right combination that would allow him passage. But, like a key that didn’t match the lock, no matter what he tried, he couldn’t get in.

  Standing on the dark side, Daniel allowed himself a sigh. Then, lest he celebrate too quickly, he dropped to his knees and rummaged in his haversack until he found his tinderbox. He lit a candle.

  As far as the light of the small flame could stretch, Daniel saw nothing but flat ground and a cavernous ceiling. Turning around he examined the rock with the fissure. It completely sealed off one side of the cave from the other. Turning back again, Daniel ventured several more steps into the cavern and saw nothing to suggest there was another opening.

  Satisfied for the moment, he found a rock to sit on and another rock upon which to place the candle. Epps’s curses and threats slipped easily through the fissure, but they were the only things belonging to Epps that found their way through it.

  Daniel decided to counter discord with harmony. He pulled out his recorder and began to play. The acoustics of the cave were magnificent. It sounded to Daniel as though he were playing in a cathedral.

  It had been too long since he’d played. Actually, it was only a couple of nights ago, but so much had happened since then, it seemed like years, not days. The last time he played was in the alley. The night of the murder.

  Daniel forced himself not to think about that night, choosing instead to concentrate on his music and the achingly beautiful voice of his wooden friend.

  Chapter 18

  The boy’s long gone,Asa Rush concluded.