Fury

by Bill Bright

  Uncle Asa’s horse was tied up in front of the house. Daniel investigated inside the carriage. Everything appeared to be as it was when his uncle was traveling, even the wooden pistol case. Had his uncle just recently arrived home?

  Daniel smiled to himself. He’d made better time than he’d thought.

  Taking the front steps two at a time, Daniel landed on the porch.Lord, it begins, he prayed.Guide my thoughts and tongue. Ummm…and my temper.

  He swung open the door. “Aunt Camilla? Uncle Asa? It’s me, Daniel.”

  Familiarity of surroundings greeted him. The parlor was as he remembered it. She wasn’t there now, but in his mind’s eye Daniel could see his aunt sitting on the sofa, her Bible open on her lap, a cup of tea on the table.

  “Aunt Camilla?”

  Daniel found no one in the kitchen. He noticed a pencil on the dining-room table. There was no paper.

  “Uncle Asa?” he called upstairs, then followed the words to the second story.

  The bedrooms were empty. Bounding down the stairs, he went outside. There was no one in the barn. He walked around the house, ending up back in front next to the carriage.

  It was the carriage that bothered him. Uncle Asa couldn’t have gone far walking, especially after a trip. He would have taken the carriage.

  Of course, there was the possibility a friend from church had been here when he’d arrived. And that Uncle Asa and Aunt Camilla could have ridden away with them.

  Daniel examined the dirt for tracks and found some. They were wide—more like wagon tracks—and they went in the direction of town.

  His hands on his hips, Daniel stared that direction. The colors were deep. Everything had an orange tint to it. The sun touched the tips of trees on the horizon.

  Hefting his haversack on his shoulder, Daniel went back inside the house and tossed the haversack onto the floor by the door. The instant he did, he heard his uncle’s voice in his head, telling him to take it up to his room.

  Daniel exhaled. His uncle wasn’t even here, and already they were battling. Daniel was tempted to leave the haversack on the floor. That’s what he used to do. He’d leave it there just to get on his uncle’s nerves.

  But things were different now. Daniel was different. He reached down and grabbed the haversack.

  That’s when he saw it—under the dining-room table. Uncle Asa’s cane.

  Intuition seized Daniel’s heart with an icy grip.

  The front door banged hard enough to loosen its hinges as he burst out of the house and jumped into the carriage.

  At first Uncle Asa’s tired horse objected to going anywhere. Maybe it sensed Daniel’s fear. But something Daniel said or did convinced the horse to make one more trip.

  The pounding in Asa’s head made it difficult for him to think. But even with the pain he knew enough.

  He knew that it was two against one, and he was in the minority.

  He knew that while Cyrus and Robely were acting in concert to kill him, they didn’t like each other.

  He knew that if he didn’t do something soon, he would die.

  The whole climbing-into-the-casket thing had been to buy time. But that purchase was about to expire. Somehow he needed to win one of them to his side and make the odds two to one in his favor. But which one?

  “What’s this all about, Cyrus?” Asa said. “If you’re going to kill me, you owe me that much.”

  “Now is not the time to get into that,” Cyrus replied.

  Asa forced a chuckle. “Then how about if we make it another time. Say Tuesday, lunch?”

  Cyrus was not amused. “He’s stalling. Kill him.”

  Epps was on the wrong side of the casket. He moved around behind Asa to get into position.

  Asa propped himself up, arms on the wooden sides. He bared his throat. “Does that make it easier for you, Robely?”

  The killer did not reply. He got down on one knee and grabbed Asa by the hair.

  “Just one thing,” Asa said. “In Rome…the prayer meeting…was that an act?”

  “Yes. It was an act.”

  “Hmmm, that’s disappointing.”

  “You sound like my father,” Epps growled.

  “No, Robely, you misunderstand. I’m not disappointedin you. I’m disappointedfor you. I thought you’d found something of great value that day, and now that I learn you didn’t, I’m sad for you.”

  Robely jerked Asa’s head back.

  “Was that an act in the forest too?” Asa asked. “Were you pretending to be my friend?”

  The grip on his hair eased.

  “Because I wasn’t pretending. All my professional life I prayed God would send me young men like you. I’ve never met a man with as much innate intelligence. You’re too smart to be someone’s hired hand. I hope someday you realize your potential.”

  “You idiot!” Cyrus shouted. “Can’t you see what he’s doing? Kill him and let’s be done with this!”

  In the distance Asa heard the clatter of a fast-approaching carriage.

  “Wait,” Cyrus said.

  Epps kept hold of Asa’s hair but hid the knife behind him.

  Cyrus crept toward the front corner of the alley. “Would you look at that!” He flattened himself against the wall as the carriage came to a halt.

  It was Daniel! Asa’s heart leapt in hope…then in fear.

  Daniel jumped out and started toward the shop door before he altered his course quickly toward the alley.

  Had he seen what was happening? Asa wondered.

  “Uncle Asa!”

  Daniel ran into the alley, past Cyrus, without even seeing him.

  “No, Daniel!” Asa yelled. “Behind—”

  His head was jerked back, cutting off the last of the warning.

  Daniel whirled around.

  A smiling Cyrus greeted him with a drawn pistol.

  “I told you I’m never wrong,” Epps said.

  It took Asa a moment to piece it together. “You played us. Anticipated our movements. Brilliant.”

  “Now we finish this before anyone else comes,” a triumphant Cyrus said. Waving the pistol, he pointed to Asa, then Daniel. “First him, then the boy.”

  Daniel’s eyes were darting from Epps to Asa to Cyrus to the knife that had reappeared. Asa knew he had one chance, doubtless a dying effort, to create a diversion so Daniel could have a chance to escape.

  Up until now he’d supported his own weight with his arms on the sides of the casket. Folding his arms to his side, he dropped down.

  Taken by surprise, Epps yelped and countered by pulling up on Asa’s hair. Asa felt some of it rip out.

  Grabbing Epps’s knife arm with both hands, Asa held it at a distance, all the while kicking and twisting and shouting, “Run, Daniel! Run!”

  Cyrus Gregg swung the pistol to cover Uncle Asa.

  Daniel’s first reaction when his uncle took up the fight was to jump Epps and join the struggle for the knife.

  Then his uncle ordered him to run. But by the time Daniel understood what his uncle was doing, it was too late.

  One step and Gregg swung the pistol back at him, blocking his departure. Daniel took a long look down the barrel of the gun, then dove behind a stack of barrels, the same stack he’d hidden behind the night of Emil Braxton’s murder.

  His efforts evoked laughter from Cyrus Gregg. “There’s no door back there. No hole to crawl into. No place to go!”

  Daniel’s chest was heaving. His eyes searched frantically for something…anythinghe could use as a weapon. But, like the night of the murder, there was nothing but a brick wall on one side and a stack of barrels on the other.

  He scrambled into a sitting position. Could he lure Gregg closer? Tumble the barrels over and possibly make good his escape that way?

  Daniel found a peeking place between two of the barrels. Gregg was too far away at the mouth of the alley.

  “Slit the man’s throat,” Gregg said. “Then drag the boy out from behind the barrels and do him. I’ll get anothe
r casket.”

  Gregg shoved the weapon into his waistband and moved toward the stacked row of caskets.

  “My name’s Asa Rush, Cyrus,” Uncle Asa said, no longer struggling. “We’ve been friends for nearly two decades. Do you have to reduce me to a nameless body to kill me?”

  From his place of hiding, Daniel knew he had to do something. But what? What could he do? They had all the weapons. He and his uncle didn’t have a prayer.

  No, that wasn’t right. Prayer wasall they had. But was it enough?

  Daniel folded his hands and touched them with his sweaty brow. “Our Father…dear Father…Holy Father…Holy God…”

  He squeezed his hands in frustration. He wasn’t good at this!

  But he was good at…

  Daniel reached for his recorder. With trembling hands and trembling lips, he began to play a prayer to God.

  “You worry too much, Heinrich!” Camilla laughed.

  It was the end of a workday. The streets were nearly deserted. Most everyone was home by now, their thoughts having turned to the evening meal.

  Cyrus Gregg’s nervous secretary shook his head. “You don’t know Mr. Gregg like I do. He shouts a lot.”

  “Well, he doesn’t shout at me. Trust me. Mr. Gregg will be surprised and delighted.”

  But Heinrich was not convinced. “Surprised, yes. I’m not sure I’ve ever heard anyone use the wordsdelighted andMr. Gregg in the same sentence before.”

  “I take full responsibility,” Camilla said. “I’ll tell him I insisted you drive me to his office. If for no other reason than we can walk home together. He needs to walk, to counter the effect of all those pieces of pies he’s been eating.”

  Heinrich was not appeased. “He told me to see to it that you stayed at his house.”

  “Will you stop worrying!” Camilla laughed.

  Just as the Gregg’s Caskets of Cumberland sign came into view, Camilla thought she heard something.

  “You are the only person in the world,” Heinrich said, “who can say things to Mr. Gregg without—”

  “Hush!” Camilla sat up and listened hard.

  “What is it you—?”

  “Hush!”

  Horror swept over her. Tears flooded her eyes.

  “Daniel!”

  Before Heinrich could stop the carriage, she was out of the carriage and running down the street, around the side of Cyrus Gregg’s shop, in the direction of the music.

  Chapter 43

  “Shut him up!” Cyrus Gregg yelled, dancing in place, desperate to stop the music. “Epps…the boy…shut him up. Make him stop!”

  Epps released Asa to go after Daniel.

  Asa wasted no time. He scrambled to get out of the casket.

  Two things stopped him. Epps shoved him down from behind. And Cyrus’s pistol made a reappearance.

  The way Asa saw it, he could die by a slit throat or a bullet to the brain. He chose the bullet. If his good friend Cyrus Gregg wanted him dead, he was going to have to kill him himself.

  Asa relaxed, feigning resignation to his fate. He’d wait until Epps was out of arm’s reach, then he’d shout a warning to Daniel and lunge at the no-good Gregg.

  It was a desperate plan at a desperate time. Asa trusted God for whatever future he had left.

  Head down, Asa checked Epps’s progress out of the corner of his eye. Epps’s back was turned so he could focus on Daniel.

  This was the moment Asa had anticipated. If he was going to make a move, now was the time.

  “Asa!” Camilla’s voice was more of a scream than anything else.

  Asa’s breath caught in his throat at the sight of his beloved. This couldn’t be happening!

  “Camilla…no!”

  Asa was halfway out of the casket when he saw her. He stopped and dropped to one knee as Cyrus seized Camilla by the wrist and pulled her to him. Cyrus swung her around so that he held her from behind. He pressed the pistol against her neck.

  “No! Don’t!” Asa yelled, afraid to move. “Don’t hurt her!”

  Behind the barrels, Daniel squeezed his eyes shut and played his heart to God. Something told him to shut out everything he heard or thought he heard, and to concentrate on playing.

  Nothing but playing.

  Playing was the best thing he could do.

  Theonly thing he could do that would make a difference.

  So he played. He played with all his heart. He played like he’d never played before.

  “Are you going to kill me, Cyrus?” Camilla asked, her tone icy.

  She’d regained a measure of control, but only a measure. The sight of her dead husband sitting up in a casket—alive—was almost too much for her. And hearing her unseen nephew playing a recorder as though from the grave nearly made her swoon. But Cyrus pressing a gun against her neck? That was something else altogether. It made her furious.

  “Well, Cyrus? Either explain to me what’s going on here, or pull the trigger. I don’t see that you have any other choices. Was that your plan all along? To kill me?”

  Just then Heinrich came around the corner. “Mr. Gregg, did you want me to lock up the front—landsakes’ alive! What…oh!”

  He stopped short when he saw Camilla.

  “Mr. Gregg, please don’t be angry with her,” the secretary begged. “She only wanted to surprise you, that’s all! She didn’t mean any harm!”

  Cyrus Gregg was sweating profusely. His eyes bulged at the activity in the alley. He didn’t know which crisis to address first.

  “Father! Over here!” another voice called. “I told you it was Daniel! Here’s Mr. Rush—oh, and Mr. Epps! Hello, Mr. Epps!”

  Hannah Robbins appeared from nowhere.

  Asa tried to warn her away. “Hannah! Go! Turn around and go! Go now!” he pleaded.

  But it was too late. Hannah took it all in—the row of caskets, the music, a disheveled Asa on one knee in a coffin, a woman held hostage with a pistol to her neck.

  Ben was right on her heels, holding a laughing Lucy’s hand. The laughter died quickly.

  A jovial Robbins was right behind them. “Asa! Hannah said she heard Daniel’s…oh!”

  “Robbins, get them out of here. Now!” Asa shouted.

  The music stopped. Daniel stood. He stepped from behind the barrels.

  “Hannah? What are you—?”

  “Daniel?”

  “Shut up! Everyone shut up!” Cyrus Gregg ordered, waving the pistol wildly.

  A few more residents of Cumberland gathered at the mouth of the alley, drawn to the music and the shouting.

  “It’s over, Cyrus,” Asa said. With the help of the side of the casket, he stood up.

  “No, no, I willnot admit defeat!” Cyrus yelled.

  Asa spread his hands wide. “You can’t kill all of us.”

  Cyrus was shaking so hard, it frightened Camilla. She let out a whimper.

  Robely Epps hadn’t moved since Camilla had blundered into the alley. The knife still in his hand, he’d made no further effort to get Daniel or to restrain Asa.

  Now he took a step toward Cyrus Gregg, challenging him. “I know what you plan to do.” He sheathed his knife. “You forget. I make a living predicting what people will do before they do it. But it won’t work. This time nobody will believe you.” He spread his hands wide, palms forward. “It won’t work.”

  At that instant, Asa realized what Cyrus was about to do. But there was nothing he could do to stop it.

  “Epps! I’m warning you!” Cyrus yelled. “Drop the knife!”

  The thunder of the pistol echoed in the alley. A puff of white-blue smoke rose from the gun.

  Hit in the chest, Robely Epps dropped to his knees.

  Asa rushed to Epps’s side and caught him as he fell. It took all of his strength to lower the big man gently to the ground.

  Epps looked up at him. “You’re the only man to show me respect. I wish I’d been a better friend.”

  Robely Epps closed his eyes and was gone.

  “You
saw it! All of you saw it!” Cyrus proclaimed.

  He released Camilla, who bolted to her husband. Asa put a protective arm around her as she buried her face in his chest and wept.

  “That man,” Gregg ranted, “that man was about to knife my good friend Asa Rush. You all saw it! I had to shoot him! I had to! To save Asa’s life!”

  The sheriff appeared, pushing his way through the growing crowd at the mouth of the alley. “What’s going on here, Mr. Gregg?”

  “Sheriff,” Gregg said, moving toward him, quick to plead his case, “the man on the ground is Robely Epps, a known criminal. He was about to do harm to Asa Rush, and would have, had I not happened upon them. I had no choice but to shoot him.”

  Cyrus Gregg’s demeanor, his movements, his speech were once again that of a respected and powerful businessman.

  The sheriff responded accordingly. “Then it’s a good thing you happened to be here,” he said to Gregg.

  “He’s lying to you, Sheriff.” Daniel stepped forward. “That’s not what happened at all. Epps worked for Mr. Gregg.”

  “That’s ridiculous, Sheriff. Look at the man. Does he look like the kind of man I would hire?”

  “Son,” the sheriff said, “maybe it’s best if I take it from here.”

  “Listen to the boy, Sheriff,” Asa said.

  “Epps is the kind of man you hire when you want to kill someone,” Daniel explained. “I saw them kill Emil Braxton. And then he and Cyrus Gregg tried to kill me and my uncle.”

  “This is absurd!” Cyrus bellowed. “It’s a pack of lies from a known liar!”

  “You take that back!” Hannah fired, lunging at Cyrus Gregg. She might have done some damage had her father not restrained her.

  Cyrus stood toe to toe with Daniel. “I don’t know what you’re up to, boy. But in the long run, it comes down to my word against yours. Who do you think people are going to believe?”

  “I believe my nephew,” Asa said. Struggling to get to his feet, he stood beside Daniel.