Ever Onward (42 page)

“How much further?”, Eddy asked. Water
poured off him, plastering his blond curls to his head.

Josh dug out his map and traced a
finger along the trail they had been following since sunrise. It
passed up and over the summit of Mount Colden, down and around its
eastern side, then up a stream along a series of open ledges to
their present position.

“This must be Feldspar Brook. The
shelter should be just beyond these ridges.”

Eddy frowned. “’Should be’? Christ,
Josh! Haven’t you been here before?”

Josh shook his head. “Not on this
trail. Oh, I’ve been to the shelter, but I came in from The Garden
on my way up Mount Marcy.”

Flame rejoined them, her shorts back
on, her tank-top still in her hand. She caught Trina’s frown,
smiled wickedly, and turned around to finish dressing. Eddy had
been about to say something, but the sight of the statuesque
red-head drove the thought out of his head. Trina tried to salvage
the situation by asking Josh how high Marcy was.

“Almost fifty-four hundred feet.
Highest peak in the Adirondacks.”

She smiled, hearing the pride in his
voice. Having grown up in New Hapshire’s White Mountains, she could
understand his love for high places. “How many times have you been
up it?”

Josh pulled out some dried jerky and
offered it around. “To the top? Twice. On two other occasions the
weather drove us back half way up. It’s not easy to reach, being
nearly eight miles from Keene Valley and twelve from where we left
the van.”

“How far have we come, Lover?” Flame
knelt beside him, her skimpy top now molded to her wet body, was at
least in place.

Josh continued to chew the dry beef.
“Around twenty. We didn’t exactly take the most direct
route.”

Trina moved closer to the map. With
her good hand she traced the trail from the Tear Lake Shelter, up
and over Marcy and down to a fork on the eastern slope. “Which way
to that parking lot?”

Josh shrugged. “We’ve got several
choices. The easiest way is down past Slant Rock to the John’s
Brook Lodge. From there its a flat three miles to The
Garden.”

“And we can pick up a car
there?”

Josh nodded, thinking back on that
terrible day nearly two months ago when he and Jessie had walked
out of these same mountains, only to find a world gone mad. The
image of his brother-in-law’s dried up body passed before his eyes.
He shivered, thinking of that lonely grave on the slopes of Mount
Haystack.

“Josh?” Flame’s voice pushed away the
dark past, snapping him back to the equally dark
present.

“I’m fine,” he said, reaching for his
pack. Princess was instantly on her feet. “Let’s get going. I want
to make the shelter before dark.”

Donny the Geek’s red tam could be seen
moving back up the trail. “They’re coming!”, he said, running into
the clearing. “They’re still way back there, but they’re coming!”
Nuts Wilson drew his .44 Magnum and Tiny hefted his long deer
rifle. Sloan, sitting on the raised floor of the lean-to, put down
the canteen he’d been drinking from and pushed off the safety on
his Uzie. Only Hec remained undisturbed.

“Okay, gents,” the lanky woodsman
drawled. “You all know your places. Don’t nobody fire till they’re
all right up here.”

Tiny gave a mock Gestapo-like salute,
then moved off into the higher rocks in front of the three-sided
building. Since he had the rifle with the scope, Hec wanted him up
high where he could cover the entire killing ground. Donny and Nuts
hustled off to either side of the small clearing and Sloan went to
his position behind a stand of stunted pines to the right of the
lean-to. Watching them move clumsily away, Hec was reminded of a
herd of lost cows. Checking the safety on his own rifle, he
silently faded into the trees on the left.

About five minutes later a lone figure
topped the rise before the clearing. Three more quickly followed.
Two men and two women. Then he saw the dog! He’d forgotten about
the bloody dog! He’d seen the tracks back at the Marcy Dam, but
none since. How’d they get a bloody big hound like that down
Avalanche Pass?! That changed everything! They couldn’t wait till
the four ha d walked up to the shelter --- the bloody dog would
smell the strangers long before that. They had to be taken at long
range!

Hec spit and sighted down the barrel
of his trusty rifle, yet it wasn’t at the dog that he aimed, but
the bearded man beside it.

“Come on,” he muttered. “Just get
clear of those bloody trees!”

Josh felt right away that something
was wrong. For one thing it was too quiet. For another, Princess
was standing stiff-legged, ears up and growling softly. She’d
caught the scent of something down there, something she didn’t
like. Flame started to move past him, but he caught hold of her
arm, his keen eyes scanning the glade.

The lean-to was empty. No smoke from
the firepit. No sign of... then he saw it! The canteen on the
floor! The large hound’s growl deepened. Trina stepped past them,
stopped and turned.

“What’s ---”

The sound of a high powered rifle
broke the silence. At the same time the side of Trina’s head
exploded. The girl’s body spun around and fell across the
trail.

“DOWN!”, Josh screamed, grabbing Flame
and shoving her off the path. The startled red-head slid down a
short drop and landed in a tangle of scrub. Gunfire filled the air.
The wine of bullets was all around. A line of 9 mm. slugs stitched
their way up the trail. Trina’s dead body jerked as the bullets
ripped through her. Josh crouched down and yelled at Eddy, who
stood staring slack-jawed at Trina’s riddled corpse. The high
powered rifle barked again. Princess, standing beside Josh, was
struck in the chest and knocked down. The faithful hound whined
once, licked his hand and died.

“Eddy! MOOOVE!!”, Josh
screamed.

Woodenly, Eddy walked towards Josh,
who promptly pushed him off the trail. Suddenly Josh felt a searing
pain in his back. Then he was falling. Josh rolled on his side,
gasping for breath. The pain in his back had lessened. The sound of
the gunfire hadn’t. Flame had crawled back up the slope and was
firing at the lean-to. On his knees now, Josh saw Eddy scramble up
beside her. A moment later the sawed-off shotgun boomed twice.
Flame had reloaded her Smith & Wesson and was once more
blasting away. Josh grabbed Eddy.

“Got to... get away! Down! Off the
trail!”

“But they KILLED HER!”, Eddy screamed.
“They blew her --- !”

Josh yanked Eddy towards him. “She’s
GONE, Eddy! GONE! Now, get moving downhill! Into the trees!
NOW!”

Eddy glared back, hate warring with
love in his wild eyes. At last he nodded and helped Josh to his
feet.

“Flame!”, Josh yelled. “Let’s
go!”

The red-head fired three more rapid
shots, then followed, Trina’s blood and brains spattered over her
face and bare shoulders.

Wordlessly the three started down the
steep ravine. Behind them the firing stopped and the cursing
began.

Donny the Geek’s face was awash with
blood. Up close it looked as though every pimple on his sallow face
had erupted. In truth, he had taken a load of #4 buckshot. Luckily
for him the pellets had been nearly spent by the time they struck,
or Donny the Geek would be Donny the Dead. As it was he looked like
someone had dumped a pail of red paint over his head. Miraculously
his eyes hadn’t been hit, but he could now whistle with his mouth
closed.

One of Flame’s slugs had
ripped off Nuts Wilson’s left ear. The pain had made him bite
through the end of his tongue. Blood now dribbled off his
chin.

Sloan, Tiny and Hec had escaped
unscathed, though all three were none too happy with the results.
Sloan was especially peeved.

“A woman and a fucking dog!”, he
hissed, kicking the hound’s limp form. “Both men got clean away!”
He rounded on Hec, his Rugger 9 mm. in his hand. “A woman and a
fucking dog!” Sloan raised the Rugger. “This time I AM going to
blow your fucking head off!”

Hec snorted. “And just how the hell
are you going to get out of here without me?” Not waiting for an
answer, he bent down to examine Trina’s body.

Sloan stood over him, shaking with
rage. “Walk out, asshole! Just like we walked in!”

Hec shook his head. “It’s way over
twenty miles back to the cars. With the kid bleeding like that, he
won’t make five. As for your man Nuts there, he’ll probably bleed
to death before the kid.”

Donny and Nuts eyed each other, both
on the ragged edge of panic. Hec stood up and continued. “John’s
Brook Lodge is a hell ova lot closer. There’ll be shelter, hot food
and a First Aid kit. Some of your boys might even be there by now.
Kill me and none of you’ll make it.”

“Bullshit!”, Tiny growled, swinging
his rifle around to point at Hec’s gut.

Nuts Wilson raised his .44 and pressed
it against the side of Tiny’s head. His tongue, swollen and
bleeding, made his words grotesquely comical. “I dun’t wunt ta kul
ya, Tuny. Bu I wull if I huv ta! Hec cun gut us ut a here. Ya
cun’t. Nutun persnul.”

Donny, looking like a skinned extra
from a third rate monster movie, nodded and pointed his .38 Special
at the tall Asian. “Ya, Tiny. Nothing personal.”

Hec looked at Sloan, wry amusement in
his wolf-grey eyes. All three assholes were now pointing guns at
someone. Part of Hec wanted to laugh. “Even with my help it won’t
be that easy now.”

Sloan stepped up and glared at the
woodsman. “Why not?!” It came out as a hiss.

Hec nodded at the bodies at his feet.
“Two things you don’t mess with in these parts; a man’s woman and a
man’s dog. You boys have gone and messed with both.”

“So?!”

Hec shrugged. “If I judge this fella
right, it won’t be us hunting him now, but him hunting
us.”

“Oh shit!”, a small voice whined. It
came from Donny the Geek.

Chapter 33
: ‘CAT AND
MOUSE’

The Adirondacks

New York August
18

They kept going downhill till they
came to a stream. The land was steep and heavily treed, the water
cascading through a narrow, rocky slot. The rugged slopes of Mount
Marcy began on the far side.

“Need a break,” Flame gasped. Flopping
down on a rock shelving, she began to wash the blood and sticky
gray matter off her face and shoulders. Having little success, she
finally went and stood beneath the closest falls.

Josh eased his heavy pack off and
worked his shoulders. The pain was still there, but fading. Opening
the pack, he saw a small hole on the front and back. The bullet had
gone through a thick guide book and three nested cooking pots
before striking his shoulder. Wincing from the pain, Josh pulled
off his bloody soaked t-shirt.

“Here,” Flame said, sloshing over to
kneel beside him. “Let me have a look at that. Oh, shit! I can SEE
the bloody bullet!”

Flame continued to fuss, but Josh was
still too shocked by Trina’s death to worry about a flesh would. He
could still move hs arm so it couldn’t be that bad. Flame looked at
him for a long moment, then took his Tanka knife. Her fingers moved
gently over his back, then a sharp, sudden pain danced along his
spinal cord.

“Got the bastard!”, she hissed. “Thank
God it wasn’t deep!” Digging in their first aid kit, she quickly
cleaned and bandaged the shallow wound, then found dry shirts for
both of them.

While Flame was seeing to Josh, Eddy
sat watching their back-trail, the short, heavy shotgun loaded and
ready. Thick pines and rock outcroppings blocked the view, but Eddy
watched just the same. From the look on his face, he seemed to hope
someone would come. When no-one did, he stomped angrily over to
Josh.

“What now?”, he demanded, a hard edge
in his usually soft voice. “We going to let those murdering
bastards get away or what?”

Josh looked from one to the other,
then shook his head.

“What the hell does that mean?”, Eddy
demanded, anger and frustration bringing him near tears. “Christ,
Josh! They SHOT YOUR DOG AND BLEW TRINA’S BRAINS OUT!”

The echo of Eddy’s shouted words
seemed to hang in the air, making the silence that followed all the
deeper. At last Josh spoke, his words an icy whisper. “They’ll pay,
Eddy. I promise you they’ll pay.”

Eddy glanced at Flame, then back to
Josh. Something that might once have been a grin contorted his
face. “How?”

“We beat them up Marcy and take them
when they come out of the trees.”

Flame looked uncertain. “What makes
you think they’ll go on to Marcy? They might turn back.”

Josh shook his head. “Not this group.
They’ve come too far to quite now.”

Eddy stood up. “So have we. Let’s get
moving!”

Hector Billingsly was worried. The
ambush at the shelter should have worked, yet here he was, left
with four assholes that couldn’t find their feet with both hands!
To make matters worse, two of them were already hurting bad, and
the other two looked jumpy enough to shoot their own shadow! He’d
not exactly lied when he told them that John’s Brook Lodge was ‘a
hell ova lot closer’ than turning back. It was closer, only about
half the distance, but he’d neglected to explain that they have to
up, over and down Mount Marcy to get there --- and Marcy was one
bitch of a hike! He toyed with the idea of just fading away, but
soon ruled that out. Sloan may be a Grade A asshole, but he was a
powerful asshole, and a man couldn’t stay up in these mountains
forever. If he came out without them, Sloan’s men would have his
balls.