by C. J. Box
Camish said, “We just wanted to find somewhere we could be left alone. Is that so damned much to ask?”
Nate said, “No, it isn’t.”
Joe sighed. “Problem is, no one can just walk away. Everyone has obligations.”
Camish said, “You mean like paying taxes?”
“Yeah, I guess,” Joe said, grateful it was dark so no one could see him flush. “Folks can’t expect services and programs without paying for them somehow.”
Camish said, “Why the hell should we pay for things we don’t want and don’t get? Why should the government take our money and our property and give it to other people? What the hell kind of place has this become?”
Joe said, “It’s not that bad or that simple. This whole mountain range, for example. It’s managed by the U.S. Forest Service, a government agency. Taxes pay for that.”
“We do our part,” Camish said. “We keep the riffraff out.”
Caleb snorted a laugh.
Joe said, “You boys vandalized some vehicles and scared the hell out of some campers. Not to mention that elk you took.”
Joe saw a flash of anger in Camish’s eyes. He didn’t even look at Caleb, hoping Nate had him covered. Camish said, “We did that to keep people away. To spook ’em. We didn’t want to have to hurt somebody or take things too far, so we laid down a marker: Leave us alone. It’s our way of managing the place. We didn’t disturb or hurt anything that was perfect. Fish, deer, elk-whatever. If anything, we helped cull the herd. That’s management, too. It just ain’t done by bureaucrats sitting on their asses. Like the Forest Service, you know? Or you guys.”
Joe could feel Nate’s eyes on the side of his face, but he didn’t look over.
Instead, Joe said, “Diane Shober. Tell me about her.”
“Yeah,” Camish said. “I was expecting you might have recognized her that night. She thought so, too.”
Joe waited. He looked up and realized Caleb was trying to tell Camish something with his eyes. Caleb looked distressed.
Camish said, “I won’t get too far into it, but Diane felt like she needed a refuge, too. So we offered her one.”
Joe said, “I find that hard to believe.”
Camish said, “Believe whatever the hell you want. But sometimes it’s hard to see how much pressure is being put on a person. And how it’s pretty damned nice to find a place where no one expects you to live up to a certain standard.”
“Her fiance?” Joe said.
“Yeah, him. But especially Daddy,” Camish said. “That man expected one whole hell of a lot. He lived his life through her, but she can’t stand him. He’s one of those parasites. He got rich taking other people’s property and money. We’d tangled before. She knew we didn’t like or respect the man. She knew we’d help her out.”
Joe nodded his head. “You had a common enemy,” he said, echoing Marybeth’s words.
“’Course we did,” Camish said. “He’s the developer who got our family property. Friend of a damned crooked Senator McKinty from Michigan and his no-good son.”
Joe sighed. He had no reason to disbelieve Camish, though he looked hard for one.
Camish turned to Farkus. “He’s the one sent them Michigan boys after us, right Dave?”
Farkus nodded, his eyes moving from Joe to Camish as if watching a tennis match.
Joe said, “You mean the senator? Are you saying a U.S. senator sent a private hit squad after you?”
“Naw,” Camish said. “Diane’s old man did that. They were supposed to take us out and take her back. And the way things work, I’d bet the senator and his son knew all about it, but nobody would ever be able to prove that. That’s how those folks are. We don’t want no part of those politicians anymore. That’s why we’re here.”
Joe thought: And when Shober heard about me, he tried to put me on the hunt for Diane, too, just for insurance.
“She stayed with you to rub her father’s nose in it?” Joe said.
Caleb shrugged as if to say, Why not?
And Camish said, “Why not?”
“Shober’s mother is worried about her. I don’t think she knows anything about what you’re accusing her father of.”
“Wouldn’t surprise me,” Camish said, shrugging.
“So was it you who sent the postcard to Mrs. Shober?”
Camish sighed. “That was a dumb idea. But Diane insisted. Like she made us agree to call her Terri Wade. Half the time we forgot. But when a woman gets something in her head. ”
“Is she okay now?” Joe asked. “Diane Shober?”
Said Camish, as a slow smile built on his face, “If you want to-if you figure out how to get out of here alive, I mean-you can ask her yourself. I don’t mind. She won’t mind, I don’t think, as long as you don’t try to take her back with you. See, we got some caves up in the rimrocks. Indians used to live there, then outlaws. They’re sweet caves. Dave knows the way.”
Joe didn’t know what to say. He finally looked over at Nate. His friend mouthed, We have to talk. But because Joe knew what Nate wanted to talk about, he turned away.
Camish said, “We used to have a pretty good country. At least I think we did. Then something happened. It’s our fault ’cause we let it. We used to be a people who had a government,” he said, looking up, his eyes fierce again. “Now it’s the other way around.”
Joe didn’t respond.
“And we ain’t going back until things change. We want our property back and we want an apology. We want to see that senator go to prison. We want to see Brent Shober tarred and feathered. And most of all, we want to be left alone. Simple as that. And we ain’t going to argue about it, game warden. If you can promise us those things, we’ll put down our guns and come down with you. Can you promise them?”
Joe said, “I promise I’ll try.”
Camish snorted. “That’s the way it is with you people. Good intentions are supposed to be the same as good works.”
Joe had no reply.
Camish said, “Then it is what it is.”
31
Out of earshot of the brothers, Nate said, “This isn’t what I signed up for, Joe.”
Joe said, “I know it isn’t.”
“We have a couple of options.”
Joe said, “I’m not sure we do.”
Nate had stood and backed slowly away from where the brothers and Dave Farkus sat by the fire. As he did, Caleb never took his eyes off him, and conspicuously tightened his fingers around the handgrip of the automatic rifle on his lap. Likewise, Nate didn’t turn his back on Caleb and he held the.454, muzzle down, near his side. Joe knew how fast Nate was with the revolver, and he guessed Caleb knew it, too. Joe had stood and joined his friend. The eastern sky was rose-colored, and the trees within the dark forest began to define themselves. It was less than an hour before sunrise.
Nate said, “We could get on our horses and ride away. Let the locals and the state boys and the feds finish this. We’re sort of signing the death warrants on these guys, but they know that and we won’t have blood on our hands. Of course, there’s the possibility these boys will make a stand. And who knows, they could win. Or maybe they’ll just fade into the timber if we leave. They’ve done a pretty good job at surviving up here so far. Maybe they’ll head north along the Continental Divide.”
Joe’s insides were on fire. He clamped his shotgun to his side with his arm and thrust his hands into his pockets to keep them from shaking.
Joe said, “I can’t ride away. As long as they’re up here, they’ll keep breaking laws. You know that. We rode by three dead bodies earlier tonight. Maybe you can say they deserved it, but that’s not for us to decide. More people will get hurt and die, and some of them will be innocent. Think of the traps these guys set. If we leave, they won’t stop.”
Nate said, “Nope, they won’t. But that doesn’t have to be our problem. This isn’t right, Joe. Let me put this as clearly as I can: We’re on the wrong side.”
Joe winced.
“Maybe,” Joe said, “but I am what I am, Nate. I took an oath. I can’t just ride away.”
“That’s how you got tangled up with them in the first place,” Nate said. “They all but begged you to just leave them be. But you didn’t.”
“I couldn’t.”
Nate didn’t turn his head. He kept his eyes on Caleb and Camish. But to Joe, it felt like his friend was glaring at him with puzzled contempt.
Joe said, “Maybe you should go, Nate. I know how you feel and I understand. Believe me, I do. You don’t need to be any part of this. There’d be no hard feelings on my part if you rode away.”
Nate said, “They’ll kill you, Joe.”
“Maybe.”
“I’m sorry.”
Joe stepped forward toward the fire, narrowing the distance between them but not really feeling his boots walk across the grass. Caleb, Camish, and Farkus watched him.
Joe said, “Put down your weapons, get Diane Shober, and come with me. We can get to the trailhead before they get organized enough to come up after you. There will be dozens of law enforcement personnel-maybe hundreds. If we all get down there before they get assembled and get their blood up, I promise you I’ll do all I can to get you secured away so you’ve got a chance.”
Caleb and Camish looked at him without a change in their expressions. Farkus narrowed his eyes, again glancing between Joe and the brothers, obviously trying to read in advance what was going to happen, and which side he would choose to support.
Joe said, “I’ll tell the locals, the state, and the feds how you cooperated. I’ll ask Governor Rulon to get involved-we’re pretty close. Look, you’ve got a story to tell. There are a lot of folks out there who will support you.
“I know of a lawyer,” Joe continued, trying to keep his voice even. “His name is Marcus Hand. You may have heard of him. Big guy, long white hair, wears buckskins in the courtroom. He specializes in getting guilty people off. Believe me, I know. I have a feeling he’d find you guys sympathetic. Who knows-he might be able to get you what you want.”
He waited.
The brothers didn’t ask for a moment to discuss the option. Camish said, “The only way we’re going off this mountain is feetfirst. And I don’t think that’s likely to happen.”
Even without turning around and seeing for himself, Joe knew Nate was gone.
Then, deep in the trees to the east, he heard Nate’s horse whinny.
“Tell you what,” Camish said, standing almost casually. “Unlike your government, we believe in freedom and opportunity. We’ll give you the opportunity to ride away. Just don’t ever come back on our mountain.”
Joe stood silent.
“We’ll give you ten minutes to pack up and ride away,” Camish said. “We won’t interfere and we won’t put you down. And if you ride on out of here, we won’t follow you. I just hope we don’t ever see you up here again.”
He turned toward the fire. “Dave, you can go with him. No offense, but you’re kind of useless. And if the game warden is correct, there will be a battle coming. You might get caught in the crossfire.”
Farkus hopped to his feet, nodding. “Okay,” he said. “Thank you, Camish.”
Camish smirked and looked back to Joe. “You’re still here,” he said.
Joe felt himself nod once.
“You shouldn’t still be here.”
Farkus started to walk toward Joe but hesitated.
“Look,” Camish said. “My brother and I are going to walk away and give you some space. Maybe then you’ll think about what you’re doing and take old Dave here and be gone. But if for some damned reason you want to force the issue, we’ll meet you in that clearing over there,” he gestured toward a small meadow to the west. The morning sun was building behind the trees, ready to launch and flood the meadow with light.
“We’ll finish it there, I guess,” Camish said, shaking his head. He seemed almost sad, Joe thought.
As they backed away from the fire, Camish said, “I think on some level you know we’re right, game warden. But you sure are stubborn.”
“It doesn’t have to be this way,” Joe said. “It’s your government, too. You can work to change it.”
“Too late for that,” Camish said. “This is Rampart Mountain. This is where we turn you people back or we quit trying.”
Joe said, “This is the wrong fight at the wrong time.”
“Got to start somewhere,” Camish said, turning away.
And they were gone.
Farkus looked from Joe, toward where the brothers had melded into the trees, and back. He said, “Let’s get out of here, Joe.”
Joe said, “Go ahead.”
The temperature dropped fifteen degrees as the cold morning air started to move through the timber in anticipation of the sun. Joe felt a long shiver start in his boots and roll through his body until his teeth chattered.
He stood on the side of his gelding, keeping the horse between himself and the meadow. The brothers couldn’t be seen. Neither could Farkus, who’d dumped the panniers from the packhorse, mounted the animal bareback, and headed east in a hurry. He hadn’t looked back.
Joe found the satellite phone, powered it up, and punched in the numbers. He woke her up, and sleep clogged her voice for a moment.
Joe said, “We found them.”
“Are you okay? Are you hurt?”
“Not yet.”
“What does that mean, Joe?”
“I’m going to try to bring them in,” he said. “They don’t want to come.”
“Oh, no. Oh, my. Please be careful.”
“I will.”
“Did you find Diane?”
“No, but I know where she is. She’s okay, they say.”
“Thank God. Her mother will be so happy.”
“Yup. I’m not so sure about her dad, though.” Thinking: How do we know the Michigan boys were going to bring her down? How do we know they weren’t going to silence her, too?
“Joe, are you okay? There’s something in your voice. Are you all right?”
“Sure,” he said.
“Is there anything I can do? Anyone I can call?”
“No.”
Joe looked across the meadow as two yellow spear bars of sun shot through a break in the trees. Instantly, the clearing lightened up. In the shadows of the pine tree wall on the far side of the clearing, he could see Camish and Caleb. They were about fifty yards apart, still in the shadows of the trees but about to enter the meadow. Caleb held his rifle across his chest. Camish worked the pump on Joe’s old shotgun.
“I’ve got to go,” Joe said.
“Call me when you can,” Marybeth said.
“I want you to know how much I love you,” he said. “I want you to know I think I’m doing the right thing for you and the girls.”
She was silent for a moment. Then he heard a sob.
“I’ll call,” he said, and punched off. It felt like a lie.
He couldn’t feel his feet or his legs, and his heartbeat whumped in his ears as he walked out into the clearing with his shotgun. Camish and Caleb emerged from the trees. Joe guessed they were seventy-five yards away. Out of range for his shotgun or.40 Glock. He wondered when Caleb would simply raise the rifle and start firing.
Joe thought: They look silly, the Grim Brothers, dressed in the same clothes, identical except for the bandage on Caleb’s jaw. They’re such losers. From another place and another era, and their ideas of the way things ought to be are old and out of date. They know, he thought, if they come down from this mountain they’ll be eaten alive. The poor bastards.
He thought: This is their mountain. It’s where they feel safe. It’s the only place they feel free.
He thought: He might give up his life for an argument he didn’t think he agreed with.
Camish said something, but Joe didn’t catch it due to the roaring in his head.
“What’s that?” Joe called out.
“I said it’s still not too late to leave,” Camish said. “I admire your courage, but I question your judgment.”
Joe thought, Me too.
The brothers were within fifty yards.
Joe thought, Camish first. Shoot Camish first. He was the leader, the spokesman. Taking out Camish might stun Caleb for a split second-in time for Joe to jack in another shell and fire.
Shoot, then run to the side, he thought. Make himself a moving target. Duck and roll. Come up firing. Run right at Caleb, confuse him. Caleb wouldn’t expect Joe to come right at him.
Forty yards.
When Joe was growing up, he’d read everything he could find about Old West outlaws and gunfights. He’d found himself disappointed. In real life, showdowns like the ones portrayed in movies and myths were almost nonexistent. Men rarely faced off against each other on a dusty cow town street at high noon, with the fastest gun winning. Much more likely was an ambush, with one man firing a rifle or a shotgun at his enemy before the victim could draw his weapon, or a gunman sneaking up on someone and putting a bullet in the back of his head from a foot away. Men didn’t face off if they could help it.
He remembered what Nate had told him: It’s about who can look up without any mist in their eyes or doubts in their heart, aim, and pull the trigger without thinking twice. It’s about killing. It’s always worked that way.
Thirty yards.
Not optimum for his shotgun, but close enough.
Without warning, he dropped to one knee, raised his weapon, and shot at Camish.
Camish was hit with a spray of double-ought pellets, but he didn’t fall. Joe caught a glimpse of Camish’s puzzled face, dotted with fresh new holes. He was hurt but the wounds weren’t lethal. He seemed as surprised at what Joe had done as Joe did.
From the trees to Joe’s left, there was a deep-throated boom and Caleb’s throat exploded. A second shot blew his hat off and it dropped heavily to the grass because it was weighted by the top of Caleb’s skull. Caleb spun on his heel and fell, dead before he hit the ground. The AR-15 caught the sun as it flew through the air.
