by Sharon Sala
He paused, absently listening to the man on the other end of the line while watching the door. There was a knock, and then Beatrice peeked inside.
He motioned her in as he ended the call.
“Who was at the door?”
“A courier, sir. I signed for it.” She handed him a large envelope—the kind used for shipping photos—and then paused. “Is there anything I can get for you?”
“No, I’m fine. Thank you, Beatrice. You can retire for the night. I’ll be going to bed soon myself.”
“Yes, sir,” she said, and quietly left the room.
As soon as she was gone, Ike opened the envelope and took out a dozen eight-by-ten black-and-white photographs. All of them were of a small-frame house sitting in the middle of a tiny meadow on the side of a mountain. The first photo had been taken from a distance, and he didn’t initially see the figure standing on the porch at the back of the house. But the next six shots had been taken in rapid succession as the chopper flew lower and closer, and it was obvious the figure was that of a young woman. The last four were close-ups, and they were so clear he could see the shadow of her hand on her forehead as she shielded her eyes from the sun.
He looked at that face for several moments, then turned around and went back to his desk and pulled out a folder with the info he’d printed out from the email Moe Cavanaugh had sent him earlier. Inside was a picture of a woman identified as Lilabeth Venable. He held it up next to the photo of the woman on the porch. His eyes narrowed, and then he smiled.
“Gotcha!” he said, and reached for the phone. It was time to let Silas know the hunt was on.
On Rebel Ridge, Quinn was gathering up his own band of warriors. They knew the job that lay ahead, and were willing and able as they gathered with him up at his campsite.
He took them over and over the traps he’d laid, until he was as confident in them as he was in himself that if the opportunity arose, they could lead the intruders right where he and Ryal wanted them.
Back in the cabin, Beth was too afraid to sleep, and Ryal was no longer in her bed helping keep the nightmares at bay. He was standing his own watch inside the house, moving from room to room throughout the night, making sure the only shadows out in the woods were moving on four feet and keeping their distance from his grandfather’s house.
Eighteen
Lou was frying up some leftover mush to have with her morning coffee. A little fried mush with some warm honey was a good way to start a day. As she waited for the mush to brown, she glanced at the calendar. It was the first of August. Autumn came fast up on Rebel Ridge, and winter wouldn’t be far behind. She didn’t know how many winters she had left in her, but she hoped for at least a few to spend with her prodigal granddaughter before the Good Lord took her home.
She was sipping from her coffee while the last piece of mush was browning when her phone rang. A call at this early hour of the morning was never good news. She took the skillet off the fire and then hurried into the hall, where she sat down in the chair beside the phone to answer, unaware her voice was shaking.
“Hello?”
“Granny Lou, it’s me, Beth. I borrowed Ryal’s phone. I hope I didn’t wake you.”
Lou held the phone a little closer to her ear, as if it would bring her son’s child that much closer to her heart.
“No, sugar, you didn’t wake me. I was up frying me some mush. Wish you were here to have some. I even warmed up a little clover honey to pour on it.”
“That sounds so good. I wish I was, too.”
Lou could hear the tears in her granddaughter’s voice.
“What’s wrong, Bethie? And don’t fib to me, because I’ll know.”
Beth pressed her fingers against her lips to quell a sob, then closed her eyes briefly and took a deep breath.
“I just wanted to talk to you again.”
“Did they find you, girl? I need to know. If they did, then it’s time I got down on my knees in prayer.”
“We think so, Granny, but they’re not here. At least not yet. You eat your breakfast and drink your coffee before you do any praying. I need you to be at your strongest and pray some really big prayers for us. For all of us.”
“I’ll do that very thing,” Lou said, and Beth could tell she was crying. “I love you, Bethie, and I have faith that God didn’t bring you back into my life just to take you away again, you hear? You have faith, and I’ll have faith, and that will make my prayers that much stronger.”
Beth swallowed another sob. “I will, Granny Lou. And one other thing before I go. I’m sorry… I’m so sorry I didn’t come home sooner.”
“You’re here now, and that’s all that counts. Now you let me talk to Ryal. Is he there with you?”
“Yes, ma’am, he’s standing right beside me.”
Beth handed the phone to Ryal, and then stumbled out of the room so that her grandmother wouldn’t hear her cry.
“Mornin’, Lou. This is Ryal.”
Lou’s voice was shaking, but her words were firm. “Son, I need you to take good care of my girl. I don’t think I can bury another member of my family and survive.”
Ryal was numb to everything but keeping Beth alive. He hadn’t allowed himself to go there, but now, hearing Lou’s fear for Beth’s life brought the danger home to him all over again.
“All I can promise you is that I’ll die to keep her safe.”
Lou sighed. “Now, don’t go and do that, either. I need the both of you in one piece when this is over. How else will I get myself another great-grandbaby if you’re dead?”
Ryal managed a smile. “Yes, ma’am, I can see how that could present a problem. We’ll certainly do our best to see that we make that happen.”
“Thank the Lord. I was hoping isolation would be good for what ailed the both of you. I’m happy to know I was right.”
Ryal took a deep breath. “I’m glad you were right, too, Granny Lou. You stay safe, and so will we.”
The conversation between them was over. The buzz of the dial tone told him that Lou had hung up. He dropped his phone back in his pocket and went to find Beth.
Silas had already assembled his men a few miles from the mountain the locals called Rebel Ridge. Since it was unfamiliar territory, he’d planned their attack for broad daylight. No sense giving the target an edge and trying it at night, when his quarry’s familiarity with the area would provide a distinct advantage.
Silas stopped thinking about the timing of the attack and turned his attention to his team. He’d worked with these six men before. They were mercenaries who’d been with him on desert forays, in the winter months in Afghanistan, even on a couple of jobs down in the tropics to oust a reigning dictator. They were good at their work and had no qualms about killing for money.
Silas had just ended a phone call with Pappas, who’d given him the final go-ahead, as well as firm directions to their target’s location, and he entered the coordinates in his GPS.
His men, all ex-military who still maintained their buzz cuts and fitness routines from when they were on active duty, were sitting around the cold camp they’d made last night, awaiting further orders. He eyed them closely, assessing them one by one before they got started.
Warwick was his sharpshooter. If a rocket launcher was ever needed, Farmer was the man for the job. Emerson was his freak. He liked to torture people, even himself, as the scars on his arms testified. Taggert was the oldest and a veteran of two wars. He was also the most savvy and dependable. Bordain was a snake in battle. He could get anywhere in record time, but he drank too much. Mason was his only potential question mark—an ice-head who loved meth more than his mama—and he wouldn’t even be here except that the man Silas had wanted was already out of the country on another job.
These were his men. They would be frowned upon in society, but they were choice picks if you were going to war, and in a way this exercise was a little war. No matter. All he needed to do was make sure everyone at their target location died. It should be an
easy job that wouldn’t take long.
He walked over to where they were sitting, aware that his reputation as a hard-ass always preceded him.
“Listen up,” he said shortly. “It’s a go. We have our coordinates and strict orders. Take no prisoners and leave nothing behind that says we were there. Is that clear?”
“Clear, sir!” they echoed, and began to clean up the area and load up their gear. By the time they were all inside the two gray SUVs, it was as if they’d never been there.
Silas was driving the lead vehicle, Taggert the second. Both SUVs were loaded with guns, ammo and Farmer’s rocket launcher.
There was no talking, no camaraderie. Each man was focused on the task at hand. All they had to do was make sure they were the survivors when the mission was done.
Silas drove just beneath the speed limit so as not to call attention to their little convoy, but they had to pass through Boone’s Gap to get to the road that would take them up the mountain, and his fear was that two matching SUVs with strangers inside were more than enough to attract attention.
The only stop sign in town was at the intersection where Frankie’s Eats was located, and SueEllen was topping off a customer’s coffee cup when she saw two SUVs stop at the sign, then proceed through town without any of the passengers looking right or left.
She didn’t know what it meant, but considering everything that was happening, it was strange enough to be worth mentioning. She bolted for the back door with her cell phone in her hand and made a quick call to her grandmother.
After the phone call Lou had received from Beth only an hour earlier, she was still praying as she sat in the darkened hallway by the phone. When it rang, she answered quickly.
“Hello?”
“Granny Lou, this is SueEllen. I’m at work, and I just saw two gray SUVs come through town with a bunch of men inside. I don’t know where they’re going, but considering what’s going on, I thought I should let you know.”
“Thank you, sugar. I’ll pass it on.” Lou hung up, then picked up the receiver again and made a call to Ryal.
“It’s me,” she said as soon as he answered. “SueEllen just called. Said two gray SUVs just came through Boone’s Gap, both full of strangers. It may not mean anything, but I thought you should know.”
“Thank you, Lou. I’ll tell Quinn.”
Satisfied she was doing her part, she disconnected and went back to praying.
Ryal made the call to Quinn and quickly relayed the info.
“I’ll spread the word,” Quinn said, and then the line went dead in Ryal’s ear.
As he pocketed the phone, he heard footsteps behind him. Beth was standing in the doorway. The panic on her face was hard to witness.
“What’s happening?” she asked.
“SueEllen just saw two gray SUVs go through Boone’s Gap. She didn’t recognize the men inside, so she gave us a heads-up, in case it mattered.”
“Does it? Matter, I mean.”
Ryal could only shrug. “Either way, we’re on alert, baby. Come to me. I need a cuddle, even if you don’t.”
He leaned his rifle against the wall and opened his arms.
Beth walked into them, locked her own arms around his waist and hid her face against his chest.
Ryal held her close, gently rocking her where they stood.
“You are the best thing that’s ever happened in my life, and you’re crazy if you think I’m gonna let anything happen to you,” he said softly.
Beth leaned back so that she could see his face. “I love you, Ryal.”
He leaned down and gently brushed a kiss across the surface of her lips. “Love you, too, Lilabeth. You just wait. This is gonna turn into one of those stories we’ll be telling our grandchildren one day. And you’ll be the heroine.”
“That means we’ll be making babies,” she said.
He grinned. “Well hell, honey, I thought we were already in the process of doing that. Lord knows we’re getting in the practice. When this is over, you better be figuring out a date for the wedding. The least we can do for our children is get married before they begin to arrive.”
Beth smiled through tears. “You just proposed to me, didn’t you?”
Ryal’s eyes widened, and then he laughed. “I guess I did. So will you, Lilabeth? Will you marry me? I promise I’ll never make you sorry.”
“Yes, yes, a thousand times yes…anytime, anywhere.”
He cupped her face, kissing each eyelid and then her nose before he paused and looked down.
“Sealed with a kiss,” he whispered.
She rose up on tiptoe to meet him, and for a few precious moments the world was theirs for the taking.
Then reality surfaced, and Ryal began double- checking the house and making sure everything they needed was still in place, while Beth disappeared into the bedroom. She had a sudden need to be on her knees and begging God for mercy.
Silas and his men had turned off the main highway and were now headed up the mountain. His gaze was quick and sharp as he took note of everything they passed, from an abandoned shack to a house with more cars in front of it than rooms inside. Dogs barked at the unfamiliar vehicles as they passed. One even chased them a short distance down the road, and he had to warn Emerson, who was riding with him, not to shoot it just to see it suffer. There would be no gunplay until the target was in sight, and even then, if they were lucky, very little of that.
For now he just followed the road that was winding up Rebel Ridge through trees so tall and thick they looked as if they’d been there for centuries.
A quick glance at his watch told him they’d been on the road for exactly thirty-four minutes when they came around a big curve and he had to suddenly slam on the brakes.
An enormous tree was partially blocking the road. It appeared that it had fallen recently—probably during some recent storm. There were no tire tracks on the road above the dead tree, which told him no one had been in or out since the last rainfall.
He eyed the three men with him. “Emerson, you and Bordain get out and move that off the road so we can pass.”
“I’ll help,” Mason said. “I need to take a piss anyway.”
“Tree first,” Silas said unsympathetically, then sat in the vehicle with the engine idling, watching as the men got hold of the broken limbs and the trunk, and began dragging the tree off to the edge of the road. As soon as the way was clear, he saw Mason duck into the trees on the far side.
“What the hell, Mason?” he yelled. “Just piss anywhere!”
Mason stopped and looked back. “Now I gotta take a shit, too. Just wait, damn it. That bitch ain’t goin’ nowhere.”
Silas cursed beneath his breath as he watched Mason disappear into the trees. The other men got back into the truck and closed the doors while they waited for Mason to come back.
Dooley Walker was one of the cousins. He’d been lying in the underbrush, about twenty yards in, ever since he and his brothers had dragged that dead tree onto the road. After that, Mike and Pudge had taken off to their own assigned locations, leaving Dooley at the first roadblock. Pudge had laid spike strips in the road before sunup, and everyone else was on watch.
He’d heard the vehicles before he saw them, and as he watched the men climbing out of the first SUV, strapped with pistols and wearing camo clothing, he knew the bad boys were here. He counted heads and took note of as many types of weapons as he could see, and then lay low, waiting for them to leave.
When he saw one of the men separate from the others, he froze. Then the man headed into the woods in his direction and he tensed, waiting to see what the guy was going to do. The driver of the first vehicle called out his name—Mason—and then Mason yelled back. “That bitch ain’t goin’ nowhere,” he said, and Dooley got pissed. Damn it to hell, that bastard was talking about Beth. Dooley stayed low, watching Mason go farther into the woods before he stopped.
When Dooley saw Mason take down his pants and squat, he smiled grimly. Old Mason was about t
o have a real shitty day. He rose up, notched an arrow and drew back, letting it fly straight into the side of Mason’s neck. It cut off whatever outcry he would have made and broke his neck at the same time. Mason was dead before his shit hit the ground.
Dooley got up in a crouched position. Moving swiftly, he grabbed the dead man under the arms, threw him over his shoulders and carried him deeper into the trees, then rolled his body off the side of a cliff before disappearing.
Back on the road, Silas was fuming. Time was wasting, and he had decided that Mason hadn’t really needed to take a crap but was probably getting high instead.
“Emerson, go get Mason, and be quick about it.”
“Yes, sir,” Emerson said, already jumping out of the vehicle.
He ran off into the trees and quickly found where Mason had squatted, but the man himself was nowhere to be found, only a single set of footprints leading off into the forest. Puzzled, he followed the footsteps for a short distance, until he reached a wide expanse of rock and the footprints disappeared.
He ran back double-time, knowing Silas was going to be pissed.
Silas saw him coming back alone and jumped out, cursing at the top of his voice.
“Where the fucking hell is Mason? I thought I told you to bring him back now!”
“I looked, Silas. I saw where he took a dump, but then he got up and walked off into the woods. His footprints just disappeared.”
Silas frowned. He didn’t want to think that they were already under attack. More likely the damn ice-head had gotten high and walked off the side of the mountain.
“Fine. Get in the truck. We’re leaving. If he wants a ride back, he can track us, or sit on his ass and wait for us to come back down.”
