by Lee, Lia
“The keys are in it,” Levi says. “Go. Now. You can sell it for the same amount of money I’ve got in the bag.”
He clucks his tongue. “They aren’t. I checked. I could have stolen it from you days ago if they were.” He’s right. Levi keeps the keys on him at all times. But I’ve never seen the duffel bag of money since I’ve been here. “And I figure it’s my turn to be a little greedy. I want both, the truck and the money.”
“Do what he says, Levi. Please. Then he’ll leave,” I say, my voice hoarse from crying, screaming, and coughing.
“That’s right. I’ll leave. Listen to pretty mama there, He-man. I think she’s a whole lot smarter than you. In fact, I think she and junior will both be better off without you.”
“Fine. But let them go first. Put the gun down so she can get the baby and take him outside. They don’t need to see what happens next. You wouldn’t wish that on them, would you?”
“I suppose not. Poor little fella might be traumatized for life. Alright,” he says, setting the rifle down on the mantel. “C’mon over, pretty mama. Take your bundle of joy and go. Can’t stand his caterwauling another minute anyways.”
“Step away from the basket,” Levi says as he grips my hand behind his back, guiding it slowly to his jean pocket. I can feel the outline of his key fob inside it, and know what he wants me to do. “Dally. Walk slowly. Take the basket and go outside, get as far away as you can.”
Unseen behind Levi’s broad silhouette, I slip the keys into my jacket pocket, then step out in plain sight. I stare down the man and walk purposefully toward the basket, holding my hands away from my body to show I have nothing on me. Mason is gasping for breath in the wake of his escalating cries. The man stands aside a pace. Just one more step and I’ve got my hands around the carry handle of the bassinet, lifting it from the floor.
“Thank you,” I whisper, not to this crazy asshole, but to whatever serendipity that has allowed me to rescue my son, and to the hope that his father will still be alive by sunset.
I turn and nod silently at Levi, then make for the door. Please God. Let Levi live. I can’t lose him again. I cross the porch and step onto the soft, sweet-smelling earth. I walk away, into the forest where I gather Mason in my arms to comfort him. As his cries subside, I double back behind the cabin where the truck is parked. He’ll never let bullet-guy have it; he only promised it as a bargaining chip, to buy us time to make our escape. One that Levi might pay for with his life.
As soon as I start the engine, bullet-guy will know he’s been duped, and I don’t want to imagine what he’ll do after that, but the choice has been made. I slide Mason noiselessly onto the passenger seat and click the seat belt closed around him before climbing in. I keep my head down, almost below the steering wheel. I barely give the ignition a chance to turn over before I slam the truck into gear and hit the gas. Thank Christ he’d chosen an automatic transmission.
We’re away from the building and heading into the hidden lane that leads to the nearest road within seconds, the truck’s heavy frame bulldozing over roots and rocks, clipping off branches as we fly through the narrow passage. I can’t hear anything over the engine’s roar and my baby’s cries, and I’m glad. The sound of a single shot from a gun in my lifetime was enough, the day of the robbery. I can’t bear to think the next one I hear might be passing through the heart of the man I love.
As I round a bend in the path, I hit the brakes hard, nearly colliding with the dark bulk blocking the road. The dirty gray van sits there like a menacing gatekeeper, daring us to get by. Damn him! There’s a few feet of clearance to one side, but hardly the width of the Chevy. Forgive me, Levi. I back up, steer to the open side and barrel through, scraping one side of the truck against the van and the other against a clump of willows. With an agonizing screech of metal against metal, I’m past the van and on my way to the junction with the dirt road. I turn onto it, trusting my instincts that I’m going in the right direction back to the 101. Levi didn’t say where I was to go, other than as far away as possible; how could he have? But I can’t just take off for parts unknown, leaving him to whatever fate he’s met up there with that criminal. Is that my fate, to once again leave my son fatherless, never knowing what became of him? Surely fate wouldn’t do that to me twice.
I have to know. I have to wait for him. He’ll know we’ve gone toward town. If he escapes, he’ll come down this road, too. I pull off the rutted dirt tracks and back the truck in between a copse of trees where I can see out, but no one can see in unless they are really looking. I doubt there’s much traffic on this backwoods trail anyway. If he’s not here in an hour, I’ll carry on toward Beaver. Maybe wait at the Hungry Bear. I glance around the cab of the truck, and my heart leaps as I notice Levi’s radio handset is still here. I turn the unit on, but what if bullet-guy has gotten hold of the other one? I might be hailing my own killer if I try to call. Shit.
I unbuckle Mason and hold him in my lap. I have nothing for him except the comfort of my presence. I wrap my arms around him, rock him gently, and begin to sing. It’s all I can think of. The tune isn’t even a lullaby, just an old folk song I remember from my own childhood. My voice is weak and reedy, and my breathing ragged, but it seems to calm him anyway. In a few minutes he’s dozing off. I try not to cough, though my chest feels like it wants to explode. Mason won’t be the only patient calling on Doc Halpert when we get back to Forks. If we make it back to Forks.
As I watch the shadows lengthening in the waning daylight, silent tears fill my eyes and spill out over my cheeks. How did all this craziness happen? Life was so golden and filled with promise two years ago; now look at it. Families broken and dreams dashed; killers on the loose, and the father of my child probably lying dead in a run-down mountain shack. It isn’t fair. We never did anything to deserve this; yeah, Levi shot a man. But it was in self-defense. We’re good people. Suddenly I find myself laughing in a giddy, maniacal way borne of too much stress and too little sleep. I guess the old saying is true. Bad things happen to good people.
I wipe my eyes and look out the windows of the cab. The sun has nearly disappeared behind the mountains, and no sign of Levi. I resign myself to having to move on toward town. I’ll call my parents and let them know where we are. God. What am I going to say to them? I can’t fake having just been laying low at a motel for the last week. I look like crap; I don’t have any of the stuff I left with. Hell, I don’t even know if my car is still there. My keys, wallet, and everything else is still up at the cabin. I’m not ready to tell them about Levi. Not until I know if he’s alive or dead. I take a deep breath. I’m going to have to drive back up there.
I shift Mason from my lap back onto the passenger seat and buckle him in again. If a cop were to drive by, I could get a ticket for not having a proper safety seat, but I doubt that will happen way out here, and it’s the least of my worries. As I reach to start the truck’s engine, the radio handset crackles to life.
“Dally. Where are you?”
I nearly crumple in relief at the sound of his voice, like every bone in my body has turned to mush. I grab for the handset and push the button. “Levi! I’m on the cut-line road, not far from the lane turnoff. Where are you? Are you alright?”
“Wait there. I’m on my way down the lane on foot. We have to get to the ranger station, fast.”
“I’ll come get you…”
“Don’t come back up here,” he shouts. He’s breathing heavily, like he’s running. “The cabin’s on fire.”
Chapter Fifteen
Levi
My hands sting like the devil, ugly blisters rising and bursting open on my palms. Small price to pay to finally solve this fucking mess I’ve gotten us into; that, and several thousand dollars in cash. A pittance, really, considering the fortune my parents left me.
I shove the radio receiver in my jacket pocket, my hands too fucked up to hold onto it any longer. Thank God Dallas turned the thing on at the other end. She’s waiting for me. All I have to d
o is make it down to the cut-line road and get to the truck. If we can get into Forks and alert the rangers, they can dispatch a firefighting unit to stop the blaze before it gets out of hand. The cabin’s lost, but the last thing I want is a raging forest fire on my conscience.
I run as best I can, the downhill grade pulling me forward, my feet skidding and slipping over tree roots and rocks. In the fading light, I see the gray van parked up ahead, blocking the road. How did Dallas get through? As I get closer, I see the scrape marks on the vehicle’s side and enough broken branches scattered about to answer my question, but I can’t stop. My leg muscles are burning as I emerge onto the dirt road that leads to the highway. I lope another hundred yards or so until I make out the dark silhouette of my truck parked between some trees up ahead, hazard lights flashing. As I get closer, a figure dashes out onto the road.
“Levi!” Dallas shouts, sprinting toward me, nearly knocking me over as she throws her arms around my neck. “Levi, thank God…thank God you’re alright.”
“I’m okay, but there’s no time to lose. We have to go now.”
“What happened? How did the cabin catch fire?”
“Let’s just get out of here first,” I say. “You’re gonna have to drive, I’m afraid.” I hold up my burned hands for her to see.
“Oh, Jesus, Levi,” she gasps. “We have to get you to a doctor.”
“Later,” I urge, limping the last few yards to the truck. Dallas runs ahead to wrench open the crumpled passenger door. I don’t give a shit about the damage. From inside echoes the sweetest sound my ears could ever hear. The wailing cries of our baby from the front seat.
“You’ll have to hold him on your lap. Can you manage?” Dallas asks.
I shake my head, smiling. “Having both arms burned off wouldn’t stop me from holding my son.” A bit morbid, but it’s true.
“Don’t joke about such a thing,” she admonishes, lifting Mason from the seat so I can slide my ass in, then settling him on my lap before returning to the driver’s seat. “Tell me everything,” she says, slamming the door shut.
“Well, he wasn’t too happy when you drove away in his prize,” I say. “But he still wanted the money. He wasn’t about to shoot me until I’d given it to him.”
“Did you even still have it? Where’d you hide it?”
“Behind the stove. I slid the bag out real slow, then just stood there holding it. He said, ‘bring it over here.’ I said, ‘come and get it.’ Then I shoved the whole thing inside the stove.”
“What?” The truck bounces as Dallas swerves to miss a nasty pothole. “Are you crazy? That was nearly two hundred grand. You burned it?”
“It was money that started the whole problem. Seemed fitting it should end it, too.”
“Holy shit. What’d he do?”
“He fucking swore a blue streak. But you’ve never seen anyone so quick to dive into a hot stove. He tried to pull the bag out, spilling burning coals and shit everywhere. Man, I never knew cold hard Benjamins could go up like that. Before I knew it, flames were streaking across the floor, catching on the rug, the curtains, everything. I couldn’t stick around to save it.”
“I’m sorry. Did…did he get away, too?”
I wince at the pain in my hands and look over at Dallas, her pretty blue eyes filled with concern, ticking back and forth between me and the darkening road ahead. Mason squirms and squawks in my arms. I shake my head. “Can’t say for sure. While he was trying to grab the money, he knocked me off-balance. I fell against the stove pipe, and it gave way.” I hold up my hand in explanation. “I got singed. But he got a face full of super-heated smoke and ash. He screamed. Then I ran.”
“So, he could still be alive. He could still be after us.”
“If so, it’ll be awhile. If not, he’s being cremated as we speak.”
Dallas shudders. “That’s horrible. No one deserves an end like that.”
I may be cold-hearted, but I feel no remorse for the man. There’s no chance he’ll still be alive. I saw the flames engulf him as I left. But it’s better if I don’t tell her that part. “I think everyone gets what they deserve. In the end, their actions dictate what they deserve.”
As the words leave my lips, I can’t help but apply them to myself. What do I deserve? I rail against it’s ills, but what actions have I taken to make the world a better place? Hiding out, shirking my responsibilities, living a docile, secretive, but ultimately useless existence out in the wilderness? That helps no one. Least of all my family. They deserve better. Not only Dallas and Mason, but my mother and father too—their memory, their legacy.
I lean down and place a soft kiss on my son’s head. I know what I have to do, what kind of life I need to lead. And it isn’t up in the mountains of the Pacific Northwest.
***
“Thanks, Levi. We’ve got the fire unit on its way,” Doug says as I face him across his desk at the Forks Ranger Station. “An early warning is the best defense. From what you say, I can’t promise we can save your cabin.”
“It doesn’t matter. It was old; it went up like a discarded Christmas tree. I’m just sorry it’s going to damage the forest.”
“We’ll do our best to control it. You say the guy who attacked you might still be up there? What do you know about him?”
“Not much. He just showed up, threatening us. Wanted my truck. Looked like he’d been out in the woods for quite awhile. But I have a hunch he was responsible for those dead animals. He was wearing a coyote’s tail on his belt. We struggled, upset the stove. We got the hell out, but…I don’t know about him. Your men should be prepared to find something unpleasant in the wreckage.”
Doug nods and folds his hands together atop the desk. “Understood. You look like shit, though,” he adds. “Our first-aiders are good, but you should see a doctor about those burns.”
I look down at the bandages wrapped around my hands. Doug’s people did a good job; the pain is starting to edge off. “I will.”
Doug glances toward Dallas and Mason, seated out by the front counter of the station office. “Are they alright? I didn’t know you were married or had a kid.”
Not much point in elaborating on the details. A smile creases my face even as my hands still throb a bit. “Like my cabin, it’s a best-kept secret. We’ve been thinking about moving to the city though.”
“Yeah? Huh. Can’t picture you in a suit. What’s a mountain man like you going to do in the city?”
I chuckle aloud. “Well, us mountain men are pretty resourceful. You’d be surprised what you can learn when you have to. Maybe I’ll be a millionaire someday.”
Doug laughs. “Well, best of luck to you,” he says, reaching for a handshake, then dropping it with a sheepish look on his face. “Take care of that family of yours.”
“Thanks.” I rise from my chair and rejoin Dallas in the outer office. She smiles as I enter the room, bouncing the baby on her knee.
“He’s hungry. I think I should take him home to my parents’ place.”
“Seeing as we have no money at the moment, that’s probably a good idea,” I say. “But we’ll go together. I’m not leaving either of you ever again.”
“You ready to face my folks? It’s going to be quite a shock for them.”
“Are you kidding? I’m a self-made mountain man. I can face anything, including your parents and taking back the reins of Strongbow Enterprises. How do you feel about returning to Seattle?”
Dallas’s smile broadens into a beaming crescent of joy. “Well, it’s been awhile, but you’d be surprised what you can learn when you have to.”
“That’s my girl. And this is my boy,” I say, wrapping an arm around both of them. “What do you think of the name Mason Levi Wynter-Strongbow?”
“That’s a handle and a half.”
“That’s okay. The son of a mountain man can handle anything.”
THE END
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