Red Mountain

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Red Mountain Page 11

by Dennis Yates


  Robert looked away, struggling to catch his breath. He examined the burning slash on his hip and decided it was mostly superficial. He might be able to get by for a while before having to bandage it. An icy rage coursed freely through his heart, feeding every starved cell of his body. He was certain this was only the beginning of things to come. He was as terrified of himself as the uncertainties that lay ahead.

  “We’ve got to get going, Robert. The other two are on their way back.”

  Robert looked up and saw Steven’s hand reaching down to him. He noticed there was blood drying in the grooves his palm, what some believed to be the map of one’s life. Once the madness was over, he hoped they’d both get back soon to enjoying to their own lives. He stuck out his hand and was pulled to his feet.

  “Are you going to be okay?” Steven asked.

  “I think so.”

  Robert glanced back at the tunnel and saw the two men running toward them, shouting things that turned to echoed garble inside the tunnel. He picked up a pistol from one of the dead men and they turned and ran.

  The night air was split with a series of harsh whistles. They heard the train rumble across the tracks.

  CHAPTER 27

  The paneling and insulation was off the door. Peggy worked quickly, finding the screw heads that attached the door lock and outside handle. Some were slightly rusted and wouldn’t turn. She had Connor rub some butter on them they’d saved from earlier. Stick had thoughtfully provided them salt and butter to go with tonight’s corn on the cob.

  “I’m almost done, baby. Can you see anything?”

  Connor was back at his post next to the window.

  “They’re still inside, mom. Stick came out to turn on the skeeter zapper, but he went back in.”

  “Any sign of the van?”

  “Nope.”

  As she released the final screw, the handle popped off and thudded against the ground outside. Peggy held her breath and prayed she wouldn’t hear the squeal of the screen door as someone came out of the house to investigate.

  Other than the shrill chorus of cicadas, it was quiet.

  She slipped out first to have a look before allowing Connor to follow. She told him to hide next to the other trailer until she finished doing what needed to be done. Carefully, she positioned the door handle onto the door with the aid of some nails she’d covered earlier with tar. It held. Before she shut the door, she stretched a line from the gas stove and connected it to the door. All this time she could hear the disassembled oven timer ticking away, reminding her to hurry.

  It was almost like another final exam, except this time she was building a bomb instead of diffusing one.

  Almost have this one in the bag. God I hope they don’t come out to check on us. Not until I’m finished...

  Peggy crept around to the back of the trailer, mindful of the thick power cords and other hazards threatening to trip her. When she made it to the other side, she found the tank of propane gas and hooked it up to a pipe that fed into the trailer. She turned the handle on the tank and heard it hiss.

  If the front door of the trailer was opened again, the pilot light would come on and ignite the gas, making Marsh go bye-bye.

  That is if everything worked out the way it was suppose to...

  Connor was waiting where she’d asked him to. She grabbed the set of keys off the post next to the guard’s tent and unlocked the other trailer. After removing the chain as quietly as she could, she turned the handle and cracked open the door.

  No one was waiting for them.

  She stepped inside with Connor next to her and together they scanned the trailer with their eyes. Cowering in a corner she saw a woman and a small girl about Connor’s age.

  “Come on! We need to get out of here before it’s too late.”

  The woman stared up at her, confused by what Peggy was saying.

  “But they’re watching us. They’ll kill us if we try to escape.”

  “And they’re going to kill us if we don’t,” said Peggy.

  A screen door flew open with a cry and shuddered against the house. Peggy heard feet scuffling across the wooden porch. She grabbed Connor by the hand and headed out of the trailer.

  “We’re leaving… Decide now if you want to live or not.”

  CHAPTER 28

  Green Man and his partner were catching up. Robert could hear the hiss of air in their throats and the sharp crush of gravel as they ran. His thigh stung horribly now and blood had soaked all the way through his jeans.

  They slowed down as they approached the train trestle, hoping to spot a trail that would allow them to get off the tracks into the surrounding woods. But there wasn’t any such trail through the thick wall of bramble and the higher ridge above the tracks looked steep and muddy.

  The train whistled behind them, its beam illuminating the far end of the tunnel.

  “You sure this is a good idea?” Steven asked.

  “I don’t see any other way.”

  The ground exploded between them, cutting their arms with gravel shrapnel. Robert spun around and returned fire, but the shooters ducked behind a steel utility box.

  Their decision had been made for them. They’d have to get across the trestle and hope for the best…

  They leaped forward onto the cross beams, taking care where they stepped so their feet did not fall through the wide empty spaces in between. It was impossible to move forward without keeping your eyes on where you stepped at all times. Once the two men found a comfortable stride, they were able to cross the tracks much faster.

  Robert didn’t know how much more his hip could take. It throbbed intensely, and seemed to be freezing up.

  A bullet sang past his head. He turned to see the two men standing next to the edge of the trestle. Behind them he saw the yellow gleam of the train’s headlight spilling onto the rails.

  They were trapped. If they didn’t get shot first, the train was sure to run them over. Several yards ahead, he noticed a wooden platform off to the side of the trestle—a safe place they could stand as the train went past.

  If there was only enough time to get there…

  He heard another gunshot, and Steven let out a cry. He glanced to his side and saw Steven crouched over on the tracks, his leg jammed down between the crossbeams. Directly below him was a deep ravine of jagged rock.

  “I’ve been hit!”

  Robert turned around and fired back at the shooters. It was a sloppy job, but one of the men screamed and grabbed for his elbow. Robert reached down and took Steven’s hand, pulling him up until he could free his leg. Once he got him clear, he saw a ragged dark hole on the back of the man’s calf, spurting blood. The foot itself was a twisted mess.

  “Come on,” Robert said, putting his arm around him. “We need to get to the platform.”

  They started to take a step forward. But Steven had lost all sense of balance and swayed back and forth before Robert could steady him again.

  “There’s no way this is going to work, Robert. Just leave me here with the gun. I can try and hold them off for awhile.”

  “Bullshit. You’re going with me. Now try hopping on your good leg the best you can and I’ll support you from the side.”

  The train roared into the tunnel. Robert looked back and saw its light rim the silhouettes of the two men with a sickening glow.

  He hugged Steven to his side, and together they managed to get a few more yards before the next bullet ripped into the Steven’s back and threw him forward, taking Robert with him. Robert struck his head against the rail and tasted blood in his mouth and saw white-hot sparks behind his eyes. When his vision finally cleared, he saw that the tracks had swallowed Steven’s legs up to his hips.

  He raised the pistol and fired at the two figures behind them. This time he saw one of the men collapse onto the tracks while the shadow of the other dove next to the bank…

  He slid over to Steven on his stomach and touched his shoulder.

  “Steven. I need to get
you out of here.”

  Steven’s eyes were mere slits. His skin was pale and waxy. There was blood trickling from his ears.

  “Can’t move…”

  Robert edged up behind him and tried to pull him up, but Steven’s body was slack and heavy. He moved around in front of him, bent over and pulled up from Steven’s hips, but he was legs were caught and he wasn’t going anywhere.

  Then another bullet struck Steven in the throat, almost tearing off his head.

  Covered in blood and bits of Steven’s flesh, Robert rolled away, screaming. Behind him, a man squealed with laughter.

  Robert got up and wiped his face with his sleeve. He headed for the platform on shaky legs.

  CHAPTER 29

  An orange fireball rose behind them as they ran across the farm as fast as they could. The juniper and sage clung to their legs as if conspiring to slow them down. Fortunately the woman and child were able to keep up. Peggy hadn’t been able to come up with an alternative plan if they were in no shape to do so. They would have had no choice but to leave them at the camp while they tried to find help.

  Two nights ago, Peggy and Connor had both observed glimmering lights far to the west. They decided it had to be the reflections of headlights on some highway, and it was in this direction they were now headed.

  Another explosion lit up the sky behind them. Could it have been the other trailer’s gas tank? For a moment Peggy lost it. She spun around and jabbed her fist in the air and screamed like a banshee, until she noticed the frightened eyes of the others staring at her, reminding her that she needed to stay focused...

  She wanted to believe Marsh was blown into a thousand pieces—the son of a bitch deserved much worse, but she’d take what she could get. And yet she knew better than to believe he was dead, for belief without proof was not a very reliable survival method.

  Peggy had to assume that Walker Marsh was still coming after them. The worst thing she could do now would be to let down her guard.

  She hoped the fire would draw someone’s attention from a distance. Maybe someone would call 911 and report it. As they moved further down the hill, she glanced back again at the flames. She noticed the guard’s tent had also caught on fire…

  CHAPTER 30

  Robert jumped onto the wooden platform and immediately flattened himself against it. Despite the threat of the train close by, the man was walking across the trestle with his rifle, firing wild shots.

  Splinters of wood flew around Robert’s head. Two posts eventually exploded and the dry-rotted railing toppled over the edge and crashed far below.

  Completely exposed now, he gripped the metal anchors that remained fastened to some of the planks and slid over to the far end of the platform to avoid being hit. He glanced over his shoulder and saw a steel cable spanning down from the trestle. It angled across the tops of trees before disappearing into the dark.

  The shooter turned to see the train coming and cursed. He shot desperately at Robert’s hands and missed. Then he turned and walked off the trestle and stood near the side to watch it pass.

  I’m going to die…

  When the train rolled onto the trestle, Robert saw something he couldn’t believe. A dark figure had sailed down from the bank and landed on top of the shooter. Like a spider pouncing on a bug.

  The trestle shook violently. Robert felt his hands slipping on the steel anchors. He could no longer hold on. As he fell backward he reached for the cable but it was much further away than he’d judged.

  So far away that it seemed like miles…

  He fell through darkness, unable to do anything more about it, thinking to himself that maybe this was the way things were meant to end…

  CHAPTER 31

  When Marsh peeled himself up from the ground he noticed his cowboy hat lying next to him, smoldering.

  His hands were red and blistered, and when he moved his eyes up his arms, he saw that all his hair had been singed off. The heat damaged wristwatch he wore said it was after midnight, suggesting he’d been out cold for at least twenty minutes.

  He rose unsteadily to his feet and stared around at what was left of the trailer. An awful stench of burning tires and plastic assaulted his nose. Something weird caught his eye and he took a few steps closer before bending over to look.

  It was Stick’s skinny arm, torn away from the elbow, the socket a polished ivory. Flesh bubbled on the surface of the limb like the split crust of an apple pie when it’s been in the oven too long. Marsh dug his toe beneath the limb and kicked it into the cauldron of fire still raging within the collapsed trailer.

  “You’re fucking dead cunt!” he screamed at the darkness mocking him outside the glow of spitting flames.

  He went inside the house and looked for his car keys, realizing how badly his skin was burned. In the bathroom he stared at his face in the mirror. His flesh looked like a crab does after you boil it—so livid red it almost glowed. Marsh bent down and rinsed his face in cool water, but it did little to help the raw hurt. The first aid kit was inside the van that had gone to Portland, so there was nothing he could put on it to give himself some relief.

  He went and checked to see if he had any phone messages.

  There were none.

  Strange, he thought. Perhaps Crain’s final contest was dragging out longer than they had figured it would. Or maybe there’d been some complications. Bad luck always came in threes. No matter. All bets were off. Marsh was going to have to clean up this mess now and make sure the women and children disappeared before they found help.

  He wasn’t too worried about them getting far. In fact, he was already enjoying the idea of hunting them down himself. The cool night was still very young. If anyone heard gunshots they’d assume he was just shooting coyotes and wish him well.

  It was high time the Crain bitch got what she had coming, even if Stick was only worthless highway trash. There was nothing he hated more than a tricky woman. Oh yes, he was going to save her for last. Introduce her to a world of pain she’d never forget.

  Most importantly, Marsh felt he now deserved the fortune of gold he was promised. He was getting tired of waiting, of living in the old run down house and not having any money. If he didn’t pay off his debts soon, nosy bill collectors would be showing up at the front door, creating even more problems he didn’t need.

  Once I get my hands on one of those maps, it’s mine. Screw Horn and his crazy plan. I’ve got to take care of number one…

  Easier said than done, Marsh thought bitterly. What the hell am I doing? How could I be so goddamn stupid?

  You couldn’t exactly tell a ghost to go fuck himself, especially if he’d become part of you, had made a little home in one of the cobwebbed corners of your mind. Marsh braced himself for Horn’s angry voice to boom through his skull but nothing happened. He glanced nervously around the room. The ghost wasn’t even there to threaten him.

  Bugger must be messing around somewhere else for a change...

  He picked up his rifle from the kitchen table where he’d been cleaning it the night before and stuffed some extra bullets into his front pocket.

  The house was quiet, except for the beat of the grandfather clock and a moth darting against the screen door.

  Marsh glanced cautiously around the room, could hear his pulse beating inside his ears.

  He didn’t see any ghosts. Not tonight.

  But when he opened the front door to leave, an icy claw sank into his shoulder and spun him around. Marsh trembled at the sight of Horn’s face so close to his. The ghost’s eyes were like portals to another reality, a place you didn’t need to see twice to know you never wanted to go there…

  Marsh tried closing his eyes but it was too late. Horn had his eyelids pinched between dark fingertips.

  “You must honor the bargain we made.”

  “But the women and children have escaped. They’ll find help. And then the police will come and ...”

  “Damn you Marsh. Take care of them. Then bring me my
rightful kin… Must I teach you another lesson about betraying me?”

  Marsh’s guts twisted up into cold knots. Horn had his eyelids stretched to their limit. If the ghost wanted to he could tear them off like the wings of a fly.

  I guess the gold will have to wait…

  CHAPTER 32

  Robert woke to a tongue licking his face. When he heard Nugget’s concerned whimpering, he opened his eyes. He lifted a hand and stroked her chin.

  “Hey girl…”

  For a moment he couldn’t remember how he’d ended up sprawled out on a bed of fragrant needles. He vaguely recalled his fall from the train trestle, of bouncing downward from one limb of a giant cedar to the next.

  Nugget settled beside him and thumped her tail.

  “How’d you get out of the truck?”

  Nugget gave him her knowing look. Haven’t you figured it out dad? When she didn’t react to the sounds coming toward them through the undergrowth, he finally understood. Will had found him.

  “Robert?”

  “I’m over here.”

  Will parted some sword ferns and bent down under the cedar to join him.

  “Jesus Robert, are you hurt?”

  Robert didn’t actually know. He hadn’t thought about trying to move anything more than he needed to. He started to gently wiggle his toes, then his legs. They seemed to function normally. But his hip throbbed as if a hot branding iron had been pressed in all the way to the bone. Will bent over and triaged Robert’s injuries. When he saw the wound on Robert’s hip he whistled through his teeth.

  “That’s a nasty cut you have, bro. We’re going to have to get it cleaned out as soon as possible… Do you think you can still walk?”

  “I haven’t tried… So what happened to the guy who was shooting at me?”

  “Don’t worry about him. He’s not going to be a problem. Oh, thanks for the voice messages you fucking jerk. You’re lucky I checked them before I got done with my shift. I was planning to go out with this hot number who’d just started in accounting the other day. I had to give her a goddamn rain check.”

 

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