by Wayne Mee
Flame was more fortunate. Seeing Snake’s tail-lights flash, she braked early --- a bit too early. Blade had to swerve to miss her and in so doing went off the trail. The rushing stream lay directly in front of him. A stump sent him over the handlebars. Luckily, the stream had formed a small, deep pool. Blade emerged dripping wet and holding his sprained left wrist.
Bull, with Rings clinging to his broad back, had time to stop. He sat there opened mouthed while Rings giggled behind him.
Snake got shakily to his feet. Blood was running down his face from a long cut on his forehead. His left knee was also bleeding. The stock of the rifle he’d slung over his shoulder was cracked. Looking around, he cursed in a way that would have made a Marine sergeant blush.
Blade, dripping wet and still holding his wrist, came and stood beside Flame. His words to Snake were as cold as the water he had fallen into. “Well, great white leader, what the fuck do we do now?”
Snake’s cruel gaze washed over him, then turned toward the steep rock wall. The blue blazes of paint showed him the trail. Snake whipped blood out of his eyes and drew his revolver.
“We follow them, asshole!”, he growled, reaching for a handhold. “They can’t be far ahead!”
Blade flexed his wrist, grimacing in pain.
“Bad?”, Flame asked.
Blade grunted, then began to climb, his left hand held tightly against his stomach. Flame drew her Smith & Wesson and followed. Bull came next, a 12 gage carried across his massive chest. Rings trailed along behind, a six-pack and a bottle of Rye weighing down her large handbag.
Tina laid Earl’s old .303 on top of the large rock she and the boys had hid behind and pulled out the small pistol she carried in her pack. She’d never fired a handgun before. Until a few days ago in North Conway, she’d never shot a rifle either. But she was a fast learner and, remembering the way Snake had looked at her, she intended to be one hell of a lot faster.
Jessie and Ken crouched beside her, holding the dogs. Og wined nervously at their feet. Princess stood beside her pup, growling faintly. Both boys had arrows fitted to their bows. Billy had found a shelf of rock below them and closer to the stream. He crouched now, the massive Colt Python’s long silver barrel catching the dappled sunlight.
Time stretched away like dripping honey, every second sticking to the next, reluctant to move on. All eyes watched the trail at the base of the two signs. Finally, a shaggy head could be seen. A massive chest followed, then a protruding beer belly. Snake had made the climb. Crouching, he moved cautiously up the trail. Flame came next, her long red hair flowing about her like fire. Dressed all in leather, she looked like a Valkary out of Viking legend, only instead of a sword, she carried a heavy, black Smith & Wesson.
Snake motioned for her to move past him. She flowed up the trail like water, stopping at the bridge, a hundred feet below where Eddy and Bert crouched behind a large boulder. Blade came next, favoring his left hand. Bull followed, half carrying Rings.
From her vantage point, Tina could see Flame moving across the bridge, but it wasn’t the large red-head that Tina feared, but the fat, greasy bastard with the piggish eyes. She sighted down the barrel of Earl’s .303 and grinned. “Shove this up your ass, woman-killer!”, she muttered, squeezing the trigger.
Earl hadn’t been lying when he said that his rifle pulled to the left. Tina’s shot went wide, chipping off a piece of granite a foot from where Snake crouched. Instantly everyone started shooting. No-one had a clear target, but that didn’t stop the urge to fire. The woods echoed with the booming of heavy caliber weapons.
Flame, squatting on the bridge, shot at the puff of smoke she’d seen further up the stream. Suddenly an arrow thudded into the handrail only inches from her head. The triangular blade glittered in the sunlight.
“What the fuck?!” Unnerved by the arrow far more than by the heavy gunfire, she sprinted across the bridge. Reaching the end, she jumped over a fallen log and scrambled up toward a large slab of rock. As she crawled around the moss covered boulder, Brad moved out of the shadows and slammed the butt of his rifle down on the back of her neck. Pain caused her to black out, the Smith & Wesson falling from her limp hand. Brad kicked it aside, then quickly tied her hands behind her with his belt.
‘One down, Josh’, he thought. ‘But a hell of a lot still to go!’
Back on the other side, Blade and Bull had taken cover off the trail. Rings crouched behind them, hugging her handbag, a crazed look in her wide eyes. There was no sign of Snake.
Suddenly the scream of a distraught Blue Jay cut through the smoke-laden air. Blade, worried about Flame, cautiously peered around the large tree that sheltered him. “Where the fuck is she?”, he hissed. “And where’s Snake?”
The answer came from further up the trail; three shots from Snake’s heavy .44. Someone yelled. Other weapons were fired. One of them sounded like a cap-gun. Then Snake’s distinctive Redhawk boomed twice more, followed by a scream. Blade raced up the trail towards the sound. Several bullets wined around him. He fired his .38 Special at a form on the far bank, then dove behind a tree. Bark flew as a quivering arrow thudded into the trunk.
“Snake!”, he bellowed. “Where the Christ are you?!”
“I got one!” Snake’s voice floated down from further up the trail. “Nailed the motherfucker good!”
“Where’s Flame?!”, Blade yelled back.
“Somewhere back there over the bridge! Now, get the fuck up here!”
Blade looked back at the bridge but saw no sign of his lady-love. He thought about going back down and crossing, but discretion got the better part of valor. Flame was a great piece of ass, the best he’d ever had, and just yesterday she’d talked Snake out of blowing his brains out, but a man has to know his limits. The goddamned bridge was way down the trail and just too fucking open! He checked the stream instead. Slick, moss-covered rocks and rushing water. Not much better than the fucking bridge!
Then another arrow slammed into the tree close by his head.
“Shit!”, he cursed, half jumping, half falling into the rushing water. Below him, Bull was firing into the trees. Even Rings was shooting, having found a small .22 in the bottom of her large bag.
The water was both deeper and faster than Blade had thought. The current pulled him down a slide and into a pool. His sprained wrist struck something and he cried out. Half blinded by the pain and the water, he was floundering toward the far bank when Billy jumped on him from above. Landing feet first on Blade’s shoulders, the biker was driven to the bottom. Something grabbed his hair and yanked him to the surface. Sputtering, Blade saw the gleaming barrel of Billy’s heavy Python swing down and connect with the side of his head. There was more bright light than pain --- then nothing at all.
Billy shoved the motionless body back into the pool and scrambled out the far side. Blade’s unconscious body was carried over yet another small falls where it lay half in, half out of the water just above the bridge.
Bull, seeing Blade’s body tumble over the rocky lip, tossed aside his rifle and leapt down the bank. Slipping and sliding, he managed to reach the unconscious form and pull it behind a fallen log. He then drew his handgun and fired at Billy climbing up the far bank. His third shot struck Billy in the right shoulder. The bullet just nicked the skin, but it was enough to make Billy loose his grip. With a splash, he fell back into the pool. Grinning, Bull stood and took careful aim at the thrashing body. An arrow smacking into the log beside him caused Bull to look down. Then another magically appeared in his left thigh. When the pain reached his brain he screamed, jerking the trigger of his gun. The shot went wild and he slumped down in agony beside the still unconscious Blade.
Rings, seeing what had happened, turned to run; in so doing she came face to face with the muzzle of Josh’s 30-30. Her large eyes opened even wider.
“Drop the gun!”, Josh hissed.
The tiny .22 fell to the ground and her along with it. Josh yanked her to her feet and, holding her in front of him
, walked to the edge of the bridge.
Snake’s voice floated down from further up the stream. “Blade! Bull! Where the fuck are ya?!”
“Here with me, Snake!”, Josh yelled back. “So is your girlfriend!
Silence.
Jessie, hearing his father’s voice, started to stand, but Tina pulled him back. The pup, Og, began to bark.
Josh continued. “Snake! Did you hear me? I’ve got your two men in my sights! Toss your gun out or I start shooting!”
More silence, this time followed by laughter. “Go ahead, farm-boy! Shoot them! They’re not worth a fuck anyway!”
Just upstream from the bridge, Blade was slowly coming round. He coughed up water, then attempted to sit. Josh put a round into the fallen tree by Blade’s side. Rings screamed, while Bull, still holding his leg with Jessie’s arrow in it, called out to Snake.
“Christ, Snake! This guy means business! Don’t let him hurt Rings!”
Snake’s reply was swift and cold. “Forget her, Bull! Shoot the fucker!”
“Can’t!”, Bull yelled back. “Got an arrow in my leg!”
“Well, big man?”, Josh called. “Who gets killed first? I’ve got plenty to choose from!”
No answer, only the cawing of the Jays and the gurgle of the water. Then Brad appeared on the bank above the bridge. He held Flame by her hair. Josh nodded to his cousin, then yelled out once again.
“We’ve got the red-head as well, Snake! It’s all up to you! Who dies first?!”
Brad, standing just behind Flame, wasn’t really sure if Josh was bluffing or not. He knew himself to be incapable of killing in cold blood, and until today would have sworn the same about his cousin. But now...
Suddenly Snake appeared at the far end of the bridge. Somehow he’d crossed the stream and doubled back down the trail. Blood ran freely down his face, all but covering his eyes. The two hands holding the massive revolver trembled.
“You do, shit-head!”
Upstream, Brad raised his rifle, only to have it knocked aside by Flame as she drove her shoulder into him. Brad fell one way, Flame the other.
And Snake began to fire.
One bullet whizzed by Josh’s head. Another tore a five inch groove out of the handrail. With less than thirty feet separating them, Josh began to back away, pulling Rings with him. Snake’s third bullet struck her in the left side of the chest. The heavy .44 slug pierced her heart and exited out the back, grazing Josh’s ribs as it passed. Rings coughed blood and died.
Josh, still holding the dead girl, brought his rifle up and pulled the trigger. Nothing happened. He hadn’t levered in another shell after shooting into the log. Snake, grinning through his gore-soaked beard, slowly turned sideways. Dropping one hand, he extended the one holding the gun. The hammer clicked back. The silver-plated barrel looked like the accusing finger of God.
“Miller time, bro!”
Suddenly Josh shoved the dead girl directly at Snake and leapt over the railing. Propelled forward, Rings looked like a puppet with cut stings. The body was halfway to Snake when he pulled the trigger. Rings’ head, shaven on one side, dyed blonde on the other, exploded like a watermelon dropped from a ten story building. Blood, bone and brain scattered to the four winds. The body, all but headless now, continued on its deadly dance. Skinny arms flailing, Rings seemed to clutch at her lover/killer for one final embrace.
Screaming like a banshee, Snake kept firing.
Like something out of an old zombie movie, Rings kept on coming.
Wet, winded, his side on fire from where Snake’s bullet nicked him on its way through Rings, Josh met up with Brad just above the bridge. Snake could still be heard cursing as he kicked Rings’ remains into the stream. Silently the two cousins slipped away and joined the others a few hundred yards up the trail.
“Dad!”, Jessie yelled, running to meet them. “You’re alive!” Kenneth ran beside him. Both dogs jumped up as the fathers and sons embraced.
“We’re fine, Jessie”, Josh said, glancing quickly around. Eddy stood just above them, his gaze fixed on the path down to the bridge. Snake had vanished. Tina was trying to bandage the scrape on Billy’s shoulder.
“Bert?”, Josh asked.
Eddy shook his head. “Snake killed him. I got away.”
Josh nodded and turned to Billy.
“I’m okay, Mr. Williams. Did you get him?”
“No, Billy, but he damned near got me. Now, let’s get moving.”
Kenneth, white with shock, stepped forward. He was still clutching his bow. “Uncle Josh, you think they’re still coming? Jeeze! Jessie got one in the leg and Billy nearly brained that other guy!”
“He’ll come, Kenneth”, Josh said. “Now more than ever. Only next time we’ll be ready for him.”
Chapter 16: ‘THE SPINE OF GOD’
Franconia Ridge
New Hampshire
June 29th
“Now get the fuck moving!”
Snake had just finished passing the Rye bottle back to Flame, who shoved it into Rings’ large handbag. They were nearly a mile up the trail from the bridge and everyone was hurting bad. Bull’s leg throbbed where Jessie’s arrow had hit him in the thigh. The arrow had come out easily enough, but the wound had bled like a stuck pig. Blade had a large goose-egg on the side of his head and his wrist still ached. Flame’s neck was sore and her feet hurt from walking in her cowboy boots. A mixture of Rings’ blood and his own still matted Snake’s hair and beard.
Surprisingly, he had had little trouble getting the others to continue the hunt. Bull blamed Josh for Rings’ death and Flame had made it quite clear that nobody ‘suckered her’ and got away with it! Blade simply wouldn’t leave her.
But if getting them going had been easy, keeping them going proved something else again. They had no gear, no food and no extra clothes. Tired, hurting, hungry and footsore, they staggered through the twilight. The growing darkness finally stopped them just one bend short of Cloudland Falls.
They managed to get a fire going, but since there was nothing to eat, they passed the Rye around and crawled off to sleep. Snake, still sipping from the half empty bottle, saw Flame slip away to answer Nature’s call. Grinning, he checked to see if Snake was moving, then silently followed. The waxing moon was dappling the trail with its silver light when Flame came back onto the trail. She was still buttoning her faded jeans when Snake, looking like a fat gargoyle come to life, rose up from the fallen log he had been sitting on.
“Why bother?”, he leered. “You’ll just have to take them off again.”
“In your dreams, Limp-dick.”
Snake grabbed her arm as she brushed past, his hungry eyes and bad breath washing over her. “You said ‘any time, any way’, Bitch! Well, the now’s the time!”
She tried to pull away. “You must be kidding! I’m not in the mood!”
Snake yanked her to him, shoving his gore-spattered beard, ample beer-belly and less than ample erection against her. Another whiff of Rye on the rocks followed. Nothing a shave, a shot of Scope and a life-long membership at Weight Watchers wouldn’t cure, but alas, Snake was pressed for time. With his free hand he began fondling her right breast.
Suddenly the cold barrel of her Smith & Wesson found its way into his crotch, freezing his fingers in mid-fondle.
Snake’s hand jerked back as though they’d been burnt.
“A wise move,” she said, withdrawing the heavy gun, though still holding it ready. “Now, you can stay here and pull your pudding all night long if you want. Me, I’m going back to the fire.”
Snake, torn between rage and relief, watched her saunter away through the moonlight.
Josh’s group was camped for the night just above Cloudland Falls, one of the highest cataracts in the White Mountains. Springs from the various slopes combined to form a rushing torrent that tumbled over a hundred feet into a rocky gorge. The spray from the falls gave it its name.
As the sun was setting, Josh sat at the lip of the falls watching t
he valley below. Ten miles away Mount Moosilauke thrust its ancient head up above the skyline, ablaze with the timeless fire. Below him the trail twisted into the twilight. Snake would have to pass this way when he came. That he was coming Josh now had no doubt. Over an hour ago they had spotted all four of them wending their weary way up the trail far below them.
Since it was nearly dark, Josh knew the maniac would be forced to stop for the night. As a precaution he had tied a fishing line across the trail at the base of the falls. The end of the line led up to a couple of empty Zoodles cans beside him. Anyone tripping the line would drag the cans across the rocks where he sat. Josh intended to spend the night sleeping beside the cans.
Suddenly Og was beside him, licking his face, then turning his attention and his tongue to the Zoodles.
“Here, stop that! You can’t eat my alarm system!”
“You really think that he’ll come?” Brad was little more than a shadow among shadows. Stepping into the dying sunlight, he handed Josh a mug of tea.
Josh took a sip, then set it down and dug out his pipe. “Not tonight, but he’ll come.”
Og, loosing interest in the empty cans, went off to chase a squirrel. Both men smiled, then Brad’s eyes narrowed. “Why? What does he want?”
Josh lit the fancy Briar Jessie had given him just days ago --- though in some way it now felt like years. “He wants a lot of things. Tina, revenge, to keep face. Maybe even to prove something to himself. I doubt he even knows --- but he’ll come.”
