by Dennis Yates
Pursued by determined lawmen since a robbery in Idaho, Maynard headed for the mountains of the Oregon Cascades, where he hoped to hide until the posse grew tired of searching for him. At first his strategy failed to test their confidence, until he slipped through their defenses and killed two lawmen while they slept next to their campfire. Having heard their horrible screams, those who’d been in charge of keeping watch ran back to find nothing but their colleague’s smoldering bones. A week later, Sheriff Longhorn’s deputies were found brutally slain. Stripped naked, their flesh had been punctured with horrific wounds. Some speculated the weapon must have been fashioned from elk horn.
Instead of being persuaded to turn away, a band of hardened lawmen continued their hunt for Maynard…
CHAPTER 15
Robert leaned forward and vomited on the street. He pressed his palms against the side of his truck and waited for the nausea to subside. Neighborhood dogs barked at his presence, reminding him he should keep moving before someone came to a window.
He got inside and released the brake, allowing himself to coast down hill with no engine or headlights for the next block. There were no flashlight beams darting from behind, nor any signs of police. His clothes were soaked to the bone, and he shivered until he started the truck and turned the heater on high.
Regardless of how it happened, he was still responsible for killing someone. A family man just like he was. Robert blamed himself for being unable to gain Nolan’s trust. If he’d been able to get him to cooperate he might still be alive.
It should have worked. The police had been called as Robert predicted. If Nolan had only done what he’d asked him to, then maybe…
Maybe you just got him killed.
No, Robert told himself. You did what you could, what you thought would work to save everyone. And even if he’d made the wrong decision, Nolan had been brave. He’d chosen to do what he thought was right…
He drove the backstreets home and took a hot shower. His skin was raw and stung when he rubbed soap into it. After he toweled off, he swallowed two painkillers and lay in bed. The sheets smelled like his wife, and he turned his head and kissed her pillow before his body shut itself off.
****
As he drifted off to sleep, Robert’s thoughts gathered at his grandfather’s cabin in the mountains. It was summer time, and after visiting for a month and a half he desperately missed his friends back home. He’d re-explored every nook and cranny in the surrounding forest, caught so many rainbow trout that he was growing bored with fishing.
If his arthritis wasn’t acting up too badly, Robert’s grandfather would pack sandwiches and they’d go for long hikes in the woods. On especially clear days they’d take the trail up to the timberline where they could touch the snowy slopes of Mt. Hood. Robert loved the higher altitude and the view of the giant glacier it opened onto. It made him giddy and caused his scalp to tingle. His grandfather was just the opposite. The old man would become quiet and reflective, and when he spoke it was to tell Robert strange things.
“What is it grandpa?” Robert always asked, and grandpa would lift a crooked finger and point toward the glacier.
“It’s a stunning thing to behold. But there’s something wicked inside that ice.”
Robert would squint up where his grandfather’s unblinking eyes seemed to remain fixed. Fissures in the ice closest to them gradually became larger as you moved your focus up between the spines of the mountain. To Robert, the crevasses looked like grinning jawbones, but what affected him most was the eerie blue light seeping from between their jagged teeth. The light had always beckoned him to come closer, and Robert would have gone to it if his grandfather had allowed him.
“I’ve never seen anything bad grandpa. You always say that when we come up here.”
“It’s not something you can see, boy. You feel it in your gut. And sometimes when a cold gust comes down from the glacier you can hear voices being carried with it.”
Robert shook his head and smiled. Today it’s the glacier story, yesterday the power of tree hugging. He was feeling too old for this silliness now. He needed to be around his friends back home, shooting hoop or hanging out at the public pool. Grandpa’s spooky discussions no longer had an affect on him, yet grandpa hadn’t seemed to notice.
“Whatever you say, Grandpa...”
A long silence followed between them, until Robert wondered if he’d offended him. Grandpa put a wrinkled hand on Robert’s shoulder while his gaze stayed on the mountain.
“You don’t have to believe me, Bobby. But some day you may.”
Right, Robert thought. I’m sure that will happen. But it was only a few days later when Robert found out his grandpa wasn’t always making things up…
****
He hiked alone on Old Burn trail, passing several acres of blackened dead trees. Something about the place always set his teeth on edge. Perhaps it was the contorted shapes of the snags and the bitter scent of old charcoal. Or the feeling someone was watching him. His mother would blame it on an overactive imagination.
The trail led to a remote lake deep into the mountains. Because he loved the solitude, Robert was willing to put up with the discomforts of getting there. Plump trout leaped high for the flies his grandpa had taught him how to tie. He often forgot what time it was.
Returning one evening with his largest catch to date, Robert decided to take an old logging road back to his grandfather’s cabin. He’d forgotten his flashlight and knew it would be easier to see his way in the moonlight than trying to take the usual deer-trail shortcuts through dense undergrowth. He nerves were jangled, for he’d been certain a pair of yellow eyes were following him through the woods. He’d stopped many times and listened, yet hadn’t heard anything definitive. Whoever was stalking him knew how to walk quietly. He wondered if it was a bear.
As he made his way up the path to the cabin he noticed a pair of yellow eyes waiting for him. The owner of the eyes wasn’t a bear, but the tall flickering shape of a man. Except this wasn’t a living man made of flesh and bone. It was a ghost.
Terrified, Robert dropped his fly rod and load of fish and ran back the way he’d come. But he didn’t get far before the figure blocked his way once again. He’d stood still while the shape floated closer, creating eddies of freezing air that wilted the ferns and trilliums.
“Listen to me, young man,” the misshapen face ordered.
“What do you want?” Robert asked. The ghost’s eyes burrowed into him and pinched at his heart. Robert reached out and grabbed hold of a cedar to stop from shaking.
“Remember to look in the box,” the voice continued, “I’ve left something for you. Remember to look.”
Robert squeezed his eyes shut, willing the ghost to leave him alone. He’d heard the surrounding vegetation crackle from the ice, listened as it broke apart and crumbled onto the forest floor like delicate crystal. When he finally dared to open his eyes, the ghost had disappeared.
He sat up, bathed in sweat. The clock read 3:30 am. Outside a car was idling, and he didn’t lie back until he heard it finally sputter down the street.
You haven’t had that dream in years…
CHAPTER 16
The trailer camp was still covered in shadow at dawn. A lone figure emerged from the old house and walked over to trailer number one. He picked up a rubber hose that was connected to a gas tank and screwed the free end to a pipe that fed into the trailer.
Dawn Nolan and her daughter did not awaken to the smell or hiss of the gas. Not immediately, anyway.
Kenneth Nolan lay inside a body bag less than three hundred miles away, awaiting his autopsy.
CHAPTER 17
At seven in the morning the phone began to ring. Robert got out of bed, heavy and sore as he limped to pick it up. At first he heard only the buzz of a radio in the distance.
“Hello?”
“Congratulations,” said Walker Marsh. “You choose a very fine means to dispose of your opponent. A very thorough job, s
ir.”
“Go to hell.”
Walker cleared his throat. “Now, before we discuss your next match, I need to know what we should do about Mr. Nolan’s surviving wife and child. You can ask for them to be spared if you wish. Otherwise…”
“Don’t do a goddamn thing to them. Let them live.”
“It’s your call, Mr. Crain. Consider it done.”
“I want to talk to Peggy… Put Peggy on the phone.”
“I’m sorry, but I can’t do that.”
“Why?”
“It’s just not a good time.”
“You’re lying. You’ve done something to them.”
“I guarantee your wife and son are very much alive and unharmed. In fact, I just spoke to them less than twenty minutes ago, to let them know that you were just one more step away from getting them back. You should have seen the hope grow in their eyes. It was brighter than this morning’s sunrise, Mr. Crain.”
Robert swallowed hard. It hurt so much to think about what his family must be going through. Then he reminded himself that Peggy was strong, and she wouldn’t be waiting around for him to come and rescue her. She’d be working on a way to escape. He was certain of it.
“Maybe you can tell me what this is all about?”
There was a long pause. Robert heard a door shut and the torching-up of a cigar.
“I’m not supposed to say anything until the game is over, Mr. Crain. However I’m not the horrible monster you probably take me for. I too am limited by what I can and cannot know.”
“How the hell can you say that? It sure looks to me like you hold all the cards. Come on… This game you’re playing with people’s lives has got to be for a reason.”
Walker cleared his throat. “This whole matter goes much deeper than you can imagine. It’s not about revenge or sadistic pleasure or any of those things. I’m only coordinating a process that has been in motion for a very long time.”
“Process? What the hell does that mean?”
Walker lowered his voice to a whisper. “All I can tell you is the contestants were not picked at random.”
“So there’s something that connects us?”
“Believe me, Mr. Crain. I wish I could tell you more, but I am risking my own life by revealing this much.”
“Then can you tell me who you’re taking orders from?”
“I would be crazy if I did. You have no idea of what kind of power is involved.”
This is just more bullshit, Robert thought. He’s got nothing to fear except for the day I find him. The son of a bitch just wants to mess with my head.
“Who is it?” Robert shouted into the receiver.
Walker fell silent again, as if truly worried someone might be listening in on his conversation.
“I cannot say. It wouldn’t even make any sense to you if I could.”
“Try me.”
“I have already explained this to you. If you prevail, things will be fully explained. Right now we are simply separating the wheat from the chaff as it were… I’ll be calling you again soon, Mr. Crain.”
The line went dead.
Robert, crazy with rage, threw the phone across the room. Then the doorbell rang, and he went and fetched the revolver from under his pillow before going to see who was there…
****
“Holy shit Bobby, you look like road kill.”
Robert fell back on the couch as Will walked into the kitchen and dug in the freezer for some ice. He came out and handed Robert an ice pack.
“Put this on you face and hold it for awhile.”
“Yes, Doc.”
“How many were there?” Will asked.
“I don’t know. The light was bad, and I was half drugged. There might have been three or four of them.”
“Those fucking crackheads must have gotten their addresses screwed up… Wish I’d been here to help you out. How’s Peggy and the boy?”
“They’re doing okay. Thank god they were visiting Peggy’s mother. They’ll just stay a few extra days while I try and get things straightened out. I don’t want to worry about those bastards coming back. I know I must have sent a couple of them to the hospital.”
“Oh they won’t be back,” Will assured him with a cold grin.
“You’re probably right.”
Will found a chair and sat down. “Do you want me to do a little sniffing around? I could try to find out where they live and we could pay them a friendly visit. When you’re feeling better, of course…”
“No. I think we better just let this one go. It had to be a mistake. I can’t think of any other reason. The cops will take care of it.”
Will shrugged. “Yeah, but will they really take care of it?”
“I don’t want to go down that road, Will. I’ve got a whole new life now, a family to think of.”
Will gazed at the floor for a moment and chewed pensively on a toothpick. “It’s up to you, buddy… Have you had time to go over everything, find out what they took? Because it looks to me like they just trashed you and the house.”
Robert felt a thick wave of heat move up into his aching face. The last thing in the world he wanted to do was lie to his best friend. But he just couldn’t take any chances. Not until he knew for sure where Peggy and Connor were being held. Then and only then would he consider some outside help.
“They got Peggy’s jewelry and some cash I had in the dresser…”
Will closed his eyes and shook his head softy side to side. Robert could sense some hurt feelings and he hated himself for it. Will was someone who’d take a bullet for him.
“So why didn’t you call me, bud?”
Robert shifted the ice pack to the other side of his face. If they hadn’t shot him up with dope he would have called Will, although it wouldn’t have made much of a difference.
“I was going to. I guess I was walking around in a state of shock after the cops came and left. I’m sorry Will. This whole thing just blindsided the hell out of me. I guess I believed I’d been through enough shit, that I’d paid my dues or something. I guess I thought I’d finally developed some kind of immunity to it...”
Will stood up and began to pace around the living room. Robert noticed fine grains of glass clinging to the soles of Will’s worn cowboy boots—the same leather boots his friend had bought in Mexico ages ago. Back when they’d gone to rescue his father and Uncle Barney…
“It doesn’t work that way, Bobby. Once the snake has bitten you it just wants to keep coming back. Sure, you can force it to go back down under a rock for awhile, and you might even walk past it several times before it makes up its mind to strike again.”
“I thought they were going to kill me, I really did.”
“And you’ve driven them back under the rock they came from. Listen to me, please. If you did send any of them to the hospital, I’ve got a cop friend who can check emergency room records for me. It might be a good place to start.”
“I appreciate the offer, but there’s no need.”
“Come on Bobby. You know this kind of stuff bugs the shit out me. Throw me a bone. There’s got to be more I can do for you than bag ice.”
“We could go get a beer somewhere.”
Will smiled and directed the ice pack in Robert’s hand to another place on his forehead. “I don’t know, champ. It’s not Halloween and I don’t think you’d even blend in very well at biker bar.”
“We could go to the shop. I keep some cold ones in the fridge. I need to pick up Nugget anyway.”
****
They sat on some old overstuffed chairs and drank a few beers together in the near darkness of Robert’s office, listening to music on the radio. Nugget lay on the floor with her back pressed against Robert’s legs. She wasn’t going to let him out of her sight anymore. Robert drifted in and out of sleep. Will sat quietly and watched him with growing concern.
“Do you want me to go pick us up something to eat?” he asked.
Robert shook his head. His stomach was chu
rning in on itself. Food was out of the question. Whenever he closed his eyes he’d see Nolan’s face.
Will got up and removed another beer from the small fridge and slowly cracked it open. Robert felt an electric charge in the air, the feeling that everything he said, every movement he made, was being scrutinized by Will’s mind. He’d thrown up a wall the best he could, yet he knew Will had a gift for finding the little cracks and weaknesses that escaped most people’s detection.
“I’ve got the feeling you’re not telling me everything,” he said. “There’s something you’re holding back from me, man, and I want to know what it is.”
Robert opened his eyes and stared back at his friend.
“I’ve told you everything, Will. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Will glanced outside at the rain bouncing off the damaged cars sitting in the fenced lot behind the shop. Ben was leaning under a raised hood smoking a cigarette as he studied the engine.
“I’m just having problems with the randomness of the crack head attack last night. Are you sure you’re not having any problems with anyone? Have you fired any disgruntled mechanics recently?”
“I told you. I’ve never seen them before. It was bad luck.”
Will stepped quickly forward and grabbed Robert’s arm before he could hide the needle mark. A purple bruise had bloomed out from the small needle prick.
“Then would you mind explaining how you got that?”
Robert pulled his arm away and rubbed at it. “Jesus Christ, they gave me a shot at the hospital, Will. My shoulder was already killing me from the car accident before those crack heads started stepping on it.”
Will turned his face away. Robert could hear him taking deep breaths.
“I’m sorry, buddy, I guess I just want to make sure.”
“Then try believing me. I’m getting tired of this interrogation of yours.”
