Ever Onward (40 page)

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Authors: Wayne Mee

Tags: #adventure, #horses, #guns, #honor, #military, #sex, #revenge, #motorcycles, #female, #army, #survivors, #weapons, #hiking, #archery, #primitive, #rifles, #psycopath, #handguns, #hunting bikers, #love harley honour hogs, #survivalists psycho revolver, #winchester rifle shotgun shootout ambush forest, #mountains knife, #knives musket blck powder, #appocolyptic, #military sergeant lord cowboy 357, #action 3030

BOOK: Ever Onward
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“Nothing here, Boss!”, Donny yelled.
“They’ve split!”

Tim Shingle had moved up beyond the
van to the small footbridge, seventy-five feet from where Flame and
Josh waited on the other side. The red head had him clearly in her
sights. It was then that Josh called out.

“You by the van! Turn around and
leave, NOW!”

Tim Shingle’s response was both swift
and deadly. Leaping off the footbridge, he sprayed the far bank
with a hail of automatic fire. Flame let one go, but the round went
wide. “Bloody Hell!, she wore.

Josh squinted through a crack between
the boulders. Everyone down below had gone to ground, even the ones
up on the hill. “Trina told you it pulls to the left.”

“So I forgot! Sue me!”

Josh grinned. “Let’s try it again,
shall we? Go for the one in the van.” He then stood up and heaved a
large stone in a high arc down the slope. The rock smacked against
a tree and fell back into the stream.

“Jesus Christ!”, Tim Shingle yelled,
firing blindly at the noise. From behind the van, Nuts Wilson
started blasting away with his .44 Magnum. Chips of rock flew off
the front of the boulder where Josh had stood. From inside the van,
Donny the Geek popped up through the side door, a

Saturday Night Special blazing away in
each hand. Up on the hillside, Flame thought that his red tam made
him look like a target in a shooting gallery. Remembering the
tendency of Trina’s rifle, she aimed at a spot about two feet to
the right of Donny’s head and gently squeezed. The front tire on
the passenger side burst. Disgusted, she tossed the rifle aside and
drew her Smith & Wesson. Donny the Geek, however, had retreated
back inside. Flame pumped two slugs into the van’s rusting
undercarriage just the same.

Silence hung over the little glade.
Shafts of sunlight caught the rising stream of burnt powder. From
atop a high pine, a lone crow croaked out its displeasure. As
though in agreement with the bird, Hec Billingsly cocked one eye up
at the bird and spit, then moved over to where Sloan and Tiny
crouched.

“Told you not to send ‘em down there.
Now they’re stuck.”

Tiny glared at him. “And just how
would you do it, asshole?”

Hec scratched his stubbled cheek, his
battered felt hat shading his piercing eyes. “Flank ‘em. Sneak
round on both sides while those three down below kept ‘em busy.
Catch the buggers in a three way crossfire.”

Sloan’s scowl stretched into a grin.
He reached out and slapped Hec on the back. “Good thinking, Hec. It
might just work!” His hand suddenly tightened on the mans shoulder.
“But you wouldn’t be thinking of slipping away now, would you? I
wouldn’t like that.”

Hec looked at the hand on his
shoulder, then into its owners eyes. “If ‘n I’d a wanted to ‘slip
away’, Boss, I’d be long gone by now.”

Sloan released his grip and barked out
a laugh. “Okay. We’ll try it your way. We go to the
right?”

Hec nodded.

Sloan called out to the
three down in the gully to keep blasting away. When he turned back,
Hec had vanished.

Josh moved back from the narrow
opening and thrust the small field glasses back into his pack. He’d
been watching the three on the far side. Big, Medium and Small.
Since Medium was the one shouting orders, he guessed that was
Sloan. Big was probably a bodyguard. Both seemed lost in the woods.
Their clothes, boots, even the way they carried themselves cried
out ‘Big City’. The other one, Small, had the look of a fox about
him. His clothes were country, and the way he studied the trail and
cradled his rifle marked him as a hunter. In his mind Josh changed
their names to Muscle, Brains and Fox. Out here, Fox would be the
one to watch.

He turned to Flame. “They’re trying to
flank us. Time to go.”

“They’ll follow.”

“I know.”

Flame shrugged, then, picking up
Trina’s .308, she bounded up the trail. Josh followed. In a moment
the forest swallowed them up.

A short while later they neared the
big rock where the Eddy and Trina were waiting. Princess bounded
out to meet them. A moment later Eddy appeared.

“Trina?”, Josh asked.

“Behind the boulder. Her arm’s bad.
She nearly fainted twice getting here.” There was deep concern in
his blue eyes.

“Marcy Dam is less than a mile ahead.
We’ll fix her up at the Ranger station.”

Eddy grabbed Josh’s arm. “They’re
still following?”

Josh nodded.

“Christ! And I thought this was going
to be a vacation!”

Half an hour later they had reached
the old log cabin. While Flame and Princess stood guard outside,
they sat Trina down and quickly searched the place. Eddy found a
large first aid kit, complete with splints, sling and pain
killers.

“How bad is it?”, Josh asked the
girl.

Trina moved her arm and winced. “Just
sprained I think. The splint and the pills will help.”

Josh smiled, then, leaving Eddy to
handle the doctoring, he went over to a large trail map tacked to
the wall. The lengths of rope and climbing tools he’d found had
sparked an idea. Comparing the map to the one in his guide book,
the plan began to take form.

“You think they’ll find us?”, Eddy
asked. “We passed two other trails on the way here. Maybe they’ll
follow one of those.”

“I think they’ve got a tracker with
them. If I’m right...” Josh left the rest unsaid.

Eddy turned away, anger showing on his
usually smiling face. “If only I’d brought my rifle instead of
this!” He held up the sawed-off shotgun. “It had a scope for
distance. We could have got up high and picked them
off!”

Before Josh could reply, a shot rang
out. Several more followed. They all reached for their weapons,
even Trina.

Outside they saw Flame running across
the dam, Princess at her heels. To her right a lake filled the
narrow valley, to her left cascades of water spilled over the log
dam. Behind her shouts could be heard.

“Inside the cabin”, Josh yelled. “We
can slip out the back door and into the woods! It’ll take time for
them to realize we’re not in there!”

Eddy helped Trina, while Josh and
Flame fired at the men emerging from the trail on the far side of
the dam. Bullets flew both ways. Behind them a glass window
shattered.

Once inside, they grabbed their packs,
including one stuffed with rope and climbing gear and headed for
the back door. Once outside they scrambled for the trees. Down the
path, the trail diverged in three directions.

“This way!”, Josh whispered. “Make
sure to go through that muddy patch.!” He ran up the left path
marked with blue blazes, his heavy boots leaving fresh, clear
tracks in the wet ground. Fifty feet beyond, he stopped on a rocky
slab, turned and jumped off the trail. Stepping lightly, the thick
leaves barely showing an imprint, he headed for the other path. The
others did the same. Two minutes later they came to a trail marked
with yellow blazes.

“Shit!”, Eddy said, the admiration
clear in his voice. “I thought they only did that in the
movies!”

“James Fenimore Cooper wrote about it
over two hundred years ago.”

Trina, with her arm tightly bound and
the pain-killers kicking in, smiled glassy-eyed at Josh. “You
Hawkeye. Me Chingagcook, Last of the Mohicans.” Suppressing a
giggle, she moved on ahead. The other three, hampered by heavy
packs, did their best to keep up.

At the end of the reservoir, the trail
crossed a footbridge over a stream and began to climb steeply. Once
across, Josh crouched behind a large pine and trained his small but
powerful binoculars back towards the dam. Men were cautiously
moving in on the cabin from three sides. Smiling, he jogged after
the others.

 

Chapter 31
: ‘AVALANCHE
PASS’

The Adirondacks

New York August
17

“They’re gone?!” There was more threat
than question in Sloan’s voice.

Hec sat on the cabin’s weathered porch
and rolled a cigarette. The question was too stupid to warrant a
reply. Of course they were gone. Slipped out the back door while
these assholes fumbled around out front. The only question now was
where? They could be waiting nearby in the woods, but Hec didn’t
think so. Be too easy to find, and Hec had a feeling that these
buggers knew what they were doing. After lighting his smoke, he
walked slowly into the cabin. Nuts Wilson and Tim Shingle were
rooting around in the back rooms. The idiot kid with the red pimp’s
hat was farting around out back. Hec told him to haul his ass back
inside and stop fucking up the tracks.

“You giving the orders round here
now?”, Tiny asked. His voice was surprisingly high for such a big
man, yet the threat was plain to hear.

Hec took a long drag on his cigarette,
then flicked it into the cold fireplace. His wolf-grey eyes met
Tiny’s. “Maybe. I aint heard nothing out of your mouth worth
shit.”

Tiny started forward, but a knife
suddenly appeared in Hec’s hand. The curved blade glinted wickedly.
The large Asian was about to spring when Sloan’s voice cut
in.

“Ease off, Tiny. We’re on his turf and
he knows it.” Sloan faced Hec. “So, Daniel Boon, what
now?”

Hec held Sloan’s gaze for a moment,
then smiled. The skinning knife had disappeared. “We track
‘em.”

Tiny grunted, hefting his rifle. The
long gun had a large scope on it. “You track them, Hayseed. I’ll
kill them.”

Hec shrugged and turned to the large
wall map. Not that he needed it, but these city boys could use a
little visual aid. Hell, they all looked like they could use white
canes!

“Well, they got three choices right
off.” The knife appeared again and traced lines on the large,
topographical map. “Up the Phelps Trail to Indian Falls; up Whales
Tail ‘n over Algonquin; or along here to Avalanche Pass ‘n on to
Lake Colden. My money’s on the first one.”

“Why?” Sloan’s voice had a hard edge
to it. To him all three trails looked like a long, hard walk into
Nowhere!

Hec spit before answering.
“Algonquin’s too high ‘n The Pass is too rough. Besides, they’d
both lead them away from the one place they’ll be headin’
for.”

“Which is?”, Tiny sneered.

“Here.” Hec’s knife stabbed a small
circle on the map marked The Garden. It was at the end of a
secondary road that wound its way down to the town of Keene
Valley.

Sloan moved closer. “What’s
there?”

Rotten teeth showed through a gash of
a mouth. “A parking lot. Backpackers ‘n hunters use it. Most folks
don’t know its there, but I’m betting these bastards
do.”

“Why?”

Hec scratched his stubbled chin.
“’Cause this lot’s damned smart, that’s why. They’ve given us the
slip twice now and already taken out four of your boys.”

“But you can find them?” Tiny’s voice
dripped sarcasm.

Hec glanced at the big man. “If you do
things my way I can.”

Tiny was about to say something, but
Sloan cut him off. “Enough! My boys will do whatever you say, just
find these bastards!”

Hec spit again. “What I said goes for
you too, Boss. There aint no fancy chauffeurs out here. You’ll have
to pull your own weight like everyone else. That means jump when I
say jump ‘n squat when I say squat. That okay by you?”

It took Sloan several long moments to
manage a nod, during which he contemplated the ways he was going to
kill this bag of cowshit when this was over!

Tiny grunted out a laugh. “So what do
we do first, Kemosloppy? Send up smoke signals?”

Hec fixed him with his hunter’s eyes.
“We’ll try the radio first. The one in the Ranger’s bedroom. Tell
your boys back at Lake Placid to get a map ‘n haul there asses up
to the Garden. Better yet, once there have them follow the trail up
to John’s Brook Lodge. We’ll meet them there in two or three
days.”

Sloan nodded to Tiny. While the large
Asian stomped off to find the short-wave, Sloan stepped closer to
Hec. His voice was low and dangerous. “Let’s get a few things
straight, Hayseed. You may be the big shit out here in the boonies,
but I still have the final say. You find me these motherfuckers and
you can write your own ticket. Try to jerk me off and I’ll rip your
heart out.”

Hec held Sloan’s cold gaze for several
heartbeats before speaking. “Look. I’m good. Damned good! But
there’s a hell of a lot of wilderness out there ‘n at least one of
these buggers knows his ass from a hole in the ground. He’s at home
in the woods, knows what gear to use. He also knows the lay of the
land ‘n how to make it work for him. If it is just one of them, the
others may get sloppy. If not, some of us won’t be coming
out.”

Hec paused to let his words sink in,
then continued. “What you got to do now, Boss, is make up your
mind. Do you want these guys bad enough to go through a world of
pain, ‘cause once we hit the high country, turning back is just as
hard as going on. If you’ve got the balls for that, I’m your man.
If not, say so now.”

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