Purgatory Road

by Samuel Parker

  Jack ran and wrapped his arms around his wife.

  Laura hugged him back, crying in disbelief, shocked that he was actually there. Molly couldn’t hold her excitement as she screamed at his entry.

  Laura then pushed him back and slapped him across the face, staring into his eyes with anger, with hurtfulness. She was allowed that, he thought, she was allowed a great many things. Her fury subsided and she grabbed his shirt with both hands and buried her head in his chest. She sobbed on.

  She cried out the years of frustration, of loss. She cried out the panic of the last several hours. She let loose the feelings of detachment, as if purging her soul of all the things that buried her heart.

  “I don’t believe this . . . ,” Laura cried. “I thought you were gone.”

  “I know.”

  “I hate you.”

  “No . . . you don’t.”

  She gained her composure and looked at Jack.

  “No . . . I don’t.”

  He kissed her deeply. Kissed her without reservation. A kiss to make up for not kissing her like this for too long.

  He was dirty. He stunk like something fierce. His eyes were crazed as he fingered the key ring, looking for the lock to unbind the ankle shackles. He was trembling, and his knuckles on his right hand were swollen and bleeding. Laura had never seen him like this before. At that moment, she thought he was completely beautiful.

  “How did you find us? How did you—”

  “How about we just get out of here?” Jack said with a smile.

  He worked Laura’s chain until it gave way. Then he did the same for Molly.

  They threw the shackles aside and stepped to the mouth of the cave, Jack leading the way with Laura right behind him. They walked into the darkness away from the lighted room. A few feet from the entrance they stopped.

  Colten wasn’t there.

  70

  Red continued north along the highway when something in the dimming light caught his attention on the side of the road. He stopped the car and got out. Crossing the pavement to the western side, he knelt down and looked at the dirt leading off. There was a large tire track, turning slightly south toward Goodwell as it terminated in the asphalt. He looked up toward the mountains and could see it, like a ’90s holograph painting, the scene coming into view once you have lost focus. Red could see it.

  A two-track heading west toward the mountains. And in the mountain, a gap, probably the space where the two-track kept on going. Right above the spot, he could see the storm clouds intensifying, as if the storm was directing its rage at that one solitary location. Concentrating its attention.

  Red walked back to his car, started it up, and turned off the road, headed up the two-track. It seemed pointless, but what else was he going to do tonight. He couldn’t go home and think about PJ anymore. He didn’t want to sit alone in the dark where the temptation of the whiskey could sneak up on him. Better to keep driving, even if it was into the wasteland as night fell.

  It was several miles of rough driving, the suspension on the car yelling in agony. This was not the vehicle for the job. Red’s back began to complain, but he adjusted himself in the seat and drove on, the glow of the dash lights illuminating his face in the ever-increasing dark.

  He clicked on his windshield wipers, temporarily blinded as the dust and bugs turned to mud in the sprinkle coming down. The headlights cutting two swaths of white down the brush-covered road.

  It took a long time, but he finally made it to the mountain base. He put it in park and got out. The rain was increasing, but he ignored it. Water dripped from the brim of his cowboy hat, encasing his head in a slow waterfall. His shirt began clinging to his back. Red took the flashlight from his belt and pointed it at the mountain as he walked closer.

  He could see that the two-track kept going, winding up the mountain out of view. The rock walls looming on each side. It was pointless, he thought to himself. Driving all the way out here for no reason. But something in his gut was pulling him forward, that inkling at the back of his neck that told him he should keep going.

  Red turned around and got back into the car. He sat there for a moment, contemplating the road ahead.

  He put the car in drive and eased into the chasm.

  It fit, like a snake unhinging its jaw to swallow a rat.

  He started up the winding staircase, the headlights painting macabre shadows on the rocks before him. He could hear the patter of the rain on the metal hood of the cruiser and the echo of the engine humming as he drove up to the sky.

  71

  The shadows began to dance on the top of the mountain. Some becoming brave enough to whisk by the old man but not daring to touch him. Hurling silent insults at Boots, trying to provoke him. He stood calm. Unaffected.

  Boots had looked approvingly from above as Jack laid out Colten and ran inside the cave. Seth’s anger began to build, reflected in the increasing storm overhead. The rain came down and pelted the hermit’s clothes like tiny fists. Boots was soon soaked, the water running off his beard in strands, dripping onto the ground before him. A shaggy dog in a waterfall.

  “Is that who you’re putting your money on, Boots? Really? He doesn’t stand a chance, and you know it.”

  Boots looked down into the chasm as if gazing into a cauldron. The scenes of the fight coming up to him in prophetic bubbles.

  “Sure was cruel of you, old man. Bringing a guy like that out here. Even I couldn’t think that one up. And you think I’m the depraved one!”

  “It ain’t over, Seth. Don’t you go getting ahead of yourself.”

  Seth laughed . . . the thunder rolling through the clouds. “You’re sick. Old and sick in the head. You know what the worst thing is . . . you probably told him that he had a chance. That he could come up here and get back down the mountain in one piece. Didn’t you?”

  “You best shut your mouth . . . it’ll be the last time I tell you.”

  “Or what? What’re you going to do, Boots? You going to curse me? No . . . you are just going to slink back to your edge of the world and hide out for the rest of time, pouting about the way things are. You never had the nerve to stick around, to finish what you started. To see the potential in this place. No, you’re not going to do anything. Just like that time up in Reno—yeah, you’re not going to do anything.”

  Boots pulled back his arm and swung, backhanding the air in front of him. A ripple of force shot out, knocking the shadows on the far canyon wall into oblivion. The remaining shadows looking on stunned, shocked.

  “Not this time, Seth. Naw, I think I’m goin’ to stick around for a bit. Get my hands dirty this time.”

  Gradually, like slow-boiling oil over a Norse campfire, the fury in Seth built up, spilling over into his shadowy cohorts surrounding the ridge. He screamed, unleashing a torrent of wind, thunder, and lightning that filled the sky and echoed out across the desert to the east like a sonic boom.

  Boots found himself surrounded by shadows taunting him on all sides, each one waiting for its neighbor to have the stomach to take the first swing. The hermit stood firm, the rain pouring down his face, his eyes narrowed, the crow’s feet ready to claw out his cheeks. A faint smile crossed his lips.

  “Now, old man . . . you are going to wish you never came up here,” Seth yelled.

  Calm filled the air around Boots, as if the world inhaled before diving into deep water.

  “Naw . . . now you’re going to see who you’ve been messing with.”

  And with those words, all hell broke loose.

  72

  They watched the rain pour down from the mouth of the cave opening. Jack scanned the clearing, but apart from the truck, nothing was there. He tried to think of a plan as fear began to replace the adrenaline coursing through his blood.

  “What are we going to do?” Laura asked, waiting for Jack to move.

  Jack thumbed the key ring in his hand. “We make for the truck. Quietly. One of these keys has to work on it.”

  “A
ll right.”

  “No hesitation now.”

  “All right.”

  Jack led the way, the puddles forming in the clearing slapping under his feet. He got to the driver’s door and opened it. He pushed Laura and Molly in and he got inside, slamming the door shut behind him.

  “Get the locks!” he said to Laura as he tried the key he had selected in the cave. No luck.

  He tried another one.

  Then a third.

  The girls were huddled in the passenger seat, soaking wet, but shaking more from fear than from the water.

  “Which one is it?” Jack yelled in frustration.

  Lightning flashed.

  Jack could not see the shadow standing in the truck bed, illuminated by the quick flash.

  All he heard was the sound of breaking glass as Colten’s boot kicked the rear window open. The glass shattered into the truck cab, and Jack’s head hit the steering wheel. Colten reached into the truck, the thick chain in his hands, and wrapped it around Jack’s neck. He looked at Laura and Molly.

  “I’ll be right back,” he sneered.

  Then with a pull, he yanked Jack through the back window and into the truck bed. Jack could feel glass shards scrape his back, shooting pain down his spine. The rain and darkness blinded him as he lay face up, being dragged by his neck off the truck and onto the clearing floor.

  Colten released the chain and took a few steps back. The lightning illuminating his face with each crash. Blood streamed down his face from his twice-broken nose. Hell was in his eyes. Jack could see the swinging chain in the madman’s hand.

  “You got guts, Jack. More than I thought you had.”

  Jack rolled and tried to get to his feet, when he felt the chain hit his face. It was pain like he had never felt before. The enormity of it knocked him backward and he hit the ground hard, the wind leaving his chest like a soul leaving a body. He could feel his face swelling up, his heartbeat thumping in his cheeks, as the tears rolled from his eyes uncontrollably. He didn’t want to get up. Didn’t want to feel any more pain like that. Then he heard Colten yell.

  “You two get back in that truck! You hear! Get back!”

  Jack forced himself up. His head pounding. He couldn’t tell if his face was pouring blood or if it was just the rain. He saw Laura backing away from Colten slowly, Molly hiding behind her. Colten was swinging the chain like a train conductor with his watch.

  Laura saw Jack rising, Colten turning to follow her eyes. He smiled when he saw Jack.

  “You getting up? You sure about that, Jack?”

  Jack looked at Laura. “Run!”

  She didn’t hesitate. Laura grabbed Molly’s hand and sprinted down the two-track out of the clearing. Colten looked back at the girls and yelled, but before he could react, Jack crashed into his back with the force of a charging lion.

  The two fell to the ground, sending blood and mud flying.

  Jack tried to pin Colten down, but took a fist to the face that sent him rolling off the madman. He quickly regained his feet this time and ran to the back of the truck, looking for anything he could use as a weapon. It was then that he felt the incredible sting of the chain break against his hip.

  Jack’s legs buckled as he fell to his knees, his hands still gripping the tailgate. He saw the chain come down on his fingers, and he screamed as his weight dropped from the truck. He looked up and could see Colten again, staring down at him.

  “I can do this all day, Jack, if you wanna!”

  Colten squatted next to Jack and spit in his face. He knelt there, looking over his prey. “You got to get it through your head. I ain’t got nothing to lose. As soon as I’m done with you, I’m simply going to go down and get those two and bring ’em back. Take my time with them. Especially Laura. Yeah, she is a feisty one. A lot of grit in her. She going to be fun.” Colten licked his lower lip and sucked in his cheeks. He spit again, blood mixing with his saliva. “Yeah, she going to be real nice.”

  Jack’s mind raced . . . a thousand images a second. The script from the week before ran through his mind, making its way through the agony in his body, pushing its way through the crowd to the front of the stage.

  Always back to the head slam to the counter. Yes, the head slam would definitely be the way to go . . .

  Jack felt the adrenaline return to his body, the rage, the fire. He reached up with both hands and grabbed the back of Colten’s neck. With all his strength, he slammed Colten’s head into the smashed truck bumper. He held nothing back. No reservation.

  Colten screamed. His broken nose spewing forth fresh blood. His eyes welling shut from the misery of splintered bone and flesh. The murderer buckled under the pain, dropping the chain as he put his hands to his face.

  Jack rolled to his feet again and grabbed the chain. He swung it back and, with everything he could muster, brought it down on Colten’s back.

  73

  The storm raged over head. Shadows flew in sweeping arcs, dive-bombing the old man who stood undaunted. Seth directed his energy like an enraged Mozart, flinging his malice at Boots with all the anger of the centuries. With each passing second, Seth’s hatred grew until it consumed him, burning in his eyes and animating his limbs.

  Boots deflected each passing wave with the agility of a dancer. His grizzled hands grasping at shades and squeezing them out of existence. He was at the eye, the center of the storm. The focus of the dark whirlpool’s rotation. With one eye he kept a watch over Jack below, with the other, he waged war with the mist.

  The rain came down sideways, the whole world illuminated by the spiderweb lightning stretched out across the black sky. Boots moved his feet and marched up to Seth, grabbed him by the neck, and brought him to the ground. His iron grip as old as the rock beneath his feet.

  The shadows swarmed impotently around him, on his back, over his arms. They fought to tear the old man away from their master but could not. He was locked in . . . immovable.

  Seth grinned back at Boots, unfazed by the quick turn of events. His laugh resounded in the echoing booms of the lightning strikes.

  74

  Laura ran blindly down the two-track, pulling Molly behind her. The rain slapped their faces as they picked up steam, the incline almost sending them tumbling forward.

  How could she leave Jack back there?

  She cried, she screamed, she ran.

  Into the blackness, their feet crunching in the rock, they continued their downward spiral, expecting the pickup truck to come barreling after them. Laura didn’t know what to do. She had to find help. Find Boots. Find someone to go up and save Jack.

  Suddenly they saw lights flash from down below them. Headlights coming around the next twist in the road. They were blocked in, nowhere to hide. Laura pressed Molly against the wall, the young girl in the woman’s embrace. They didn’t know who was coming, what was coming.

  The car came into view and stopped, its headlights full on the two scared souls. With much scraping and pushing, the driver’s door opened and they could see a man get out. He walked to the front of the car and stood before the headlights, his shadow casting a large impression on the stone behind them.

  “You girls all right? What are you doing up here?”

  “Who are you?” Laura screamed, hysterical.

  “Easy now, missy. I’m the sheriff around here.”

  ———

  Red approached the woman and the young girl. He could see bruises on the woman’s face come into view as he got closer. “What’s going on? Now you tell me.”

  The woman moved and ran over to Red. She collapsed on him in relief, crying, disoriented. She could not talk fast enough as she tried to explain the whole situation at once. He listened, studying both of them closely.

  “You have to help him, he’s still up there!”

  “Who’s up there?”

  “Jack! My husband! Please!”

  “Did he do this to you?”

  “No . . . it was Colten . . . a man named Colten!”


  Red’s blood began pumping hot. “You said Colten’s up there?”

  “Yes!”

  “All right. You two keep walking down. Careful now,” he said as he handed them the flashlight from its holster. “I’ll get this taken care of.”

  He ushered the women around the car and saw them off, their worried faces awash in the red taillights of the cruiser. He got back in the car and picked up the radio.

  “James, you there?”

  He waited.

  “James, pick up if you hear me.”

  Again nothing.

  Red put the car in drive and continued up the mountain, watching Laura and Molly disappear in his rearview mirror as he rounded the corner. He soon came to the end of the road and drove into the clearing. The rain coming down was a complete monsoon. Through the wiper blades he could make out a truck in the center, and what looked liked two people. He drove closer and got out, his hand on his revolver.

  He saw Colten down on the ground, holding his face and screaming.

  The other man he didn’t know, but he could see that he was wielding a large chain and was about ready to bring it down on Colten’s back. Red lifted his weapon and yelled.

  “Drop the chain!”

  Lightning boomed across the chasm, deafening the canyon with thunder.

  Red saw the man bring the chain down on Colten with absolute remorselessness. Colten screamed again.

  “Drop the chain!”

  The man wound up again, his eyes solely latched on to his prey. The chain swung over his head, gathering steam for another blow.

  Red fired his weapon.

  75

  The gunshot rang through the canyon, and Boots released his grip from Seth’s throat. He stood up and looked at the apparition lying on the ground before him. He wanted nothing more than to drive his boot into his face and squash him like a bug. But he didn’t. He restrained himself. For the sake of a feeling that Seth could never understand, the old man stayed his rage. Seth slowly stood up and dusted himself off, eyeing Boots cautiously as one unsure of his opponent’s next move.