Ever Onward (18 page)

“Just in case they try something
smart,” he grinned. Then, revving his Harley, Snake tore off across
the field. Grinning, Flame raced after him. Blade and Bull
followed.

Josh hadn’t gone a hundred yards when
he heard the shots. Leaping off the trail, he made his way through
the trees to a large boulder the size of a small room. He’d just
reached the glacial litter when the sound of racing engines reached
him.Through the trees he saw Snake tearing up the trail at
breakneck speed. Three other bikes were right behind
him.

Somehow he had to stop them. If they
got past him, they’d be on Jessie and the others in no time.
Holding that thought he levered a shell into his 30-30. He tried to
sight on Snake’s broad chest, but the ups and downs on the trail,
along with the numerous trees in between, made it an impossible
shot.

Josh fired anyway; his son’s life
depended on it. The rifle bucked, and bark flew from a large oak
halfway between himself and the trail. The sound of the shot was
completely drowned out by the roaring motors. He fired twice more.
More bark flew. Then the rifle jammed. Tossing it down, he brew his
Beretta, but by now the roaring machines were past and racing round
a distant bend. He pulled the trigger four times just the same,
sending the 9 mm. slugs wining off rocks and tree
trunks.

Snake and the others weren’t even
aware he had fired.

Seconds later the sound of the bikes
began to fade, swallowed up by the dense forest. The smoking gun
hung impotently in his trembling hand, while frustration and fear
weighed down his heart. Cursing under his breathe, Brad snatched up
his rifle and began to run up the trail.

Just below the small wooden bridge,
the trail climbed steeply. Hands as well as feet were needed to
negotiate the moss-covered rocks. Water trickled under exposed
roots. At the top, two signs were nailed to a tree. Straight ahead
for the Old Bridal Path, across the bridge for the Falling Waters
Trail. Both led up to the bare, windswept Franconia
Ridge.

Brad waited under the signs while the
others scrambled up to him. Over the roar of the cascading water he
thought he could hear the distant drone of motors.

Tina joined him, her head cocked to
one side.

“You hear them too?”, Brad
asked.

“Ya,” was her only answer. Her eyes
were busy searching the far bank. She pointed to a cluster of rocks
a hundred feet up the stream.

Brad nodded. “Take the boys with you.
I’ll find a position down here.”

Tina led Jessie, Kenneth and Billy
over the bridge and up the steep trail. The dogs ran ahead of them.
Brad waited by the sign as Eddy scrambled up to him. Bert was
struggling along in the rear. The sound of the motors was clearer
now.

“Company’s coming,”, Eddy
said.

Brad faced him. “Josh says I can trust
you. I believe he’s right. I’d like you to take Bert and go up this
side of the stream. Find some cover but make sure you can see the
bridge. I’ll do the same from the other side. Okay?”

Eddy hesitated. “What about Josh?
Shouldn’t we --- ?”

“No!”, Brad said, louder than he’d
meant to. ”He’ll be along. I need you to cover this side of the
stream!”

Eddy nodded and led Bert up the left
bank trail.

As Brad jogged across the bridge, he
thought about his cousin. He hoped Josh had hid and let them ride
right past him, but deep in his heart he knew better. Josh would
have tried to stop them. Tried, but obviously failed. So where the
hell was he? The answer made him groan. Dead or wounded. And if
wounded, as good as dead, for they couldn’t go back for him, not
with Snake and the others following.

Cursing, Brad climbed
behind a slab of rock just as Snake rounded the bend below the
bridge.

“Shit!”, Snake yelled as the big
Harley’s front wheel came out of a dip and bounced off a boulder.
The jolt propelled him forward and he came down hard on the gas
cap. Pain lanced through his testicles. He fought the heavy bike
around a steep, sharp curve and saw a wall of rock in front of him.
Slamming on the breaks, both wheels ripped up decades of leaf mould
and mud. Fishtailing around, the big Harley’s back wheel hit
another rock and stopped. Snake, however, did not. Momentum carried
him forward while gravity pulled him down. The combination produced
one hell of a lot of pain.

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.