Ever Onward (59 page)

Despite himself, Josh asked the
obvious question. “How?”

Jocco gladly complied. “Being a
student of history, you will, I’m sure, recall the term ‘trial by
ordeal’? This hunt will be my own little version of that ancient
custom. If you reach the lodge alive, Lord Walter will die. If you
don’t, he lives.”

In the following silence, Josh took a
deep breath. “And how do I know you will keep your
word?”

Jocco’s smile became almost handsome.
“You don’t.” The Tanto flashed through the air and the ropes
holding Josh were severed. Legs, weak from three days of poor
circulation, collapsed beneath him. Jessie called to his father,
while Flame cursed Jocco with words even a good old boy like
Bobby-Joe hesitated to use. Cobb just stared down at the pompous
puke from on high. Seconds later the knife flashed again and he too
fell to the floor.

“Major,” Jocco said. “Have your men
lock these two in the basement. See they are dressed and fed.
Anything they want to eat and then let them sleep, but have them up
at dawn. The hunt will begin at nine hundred hours.”

After Scar’s men had dragged Josh and
Cobb away, the one-eyed man strode over to Jocco. “What is this
shit? I told you they were fucking dangerous. Let me kill them
now.”

Jocco sighed, gently stroking Pam the
Bitch’s pretty chin with his swagger stick. Her tongue flicked out
and licked the end. “Patients, huntsman. To quote both Lord Walter
and the good professor’s favorite author:
‘the game’s
afoot’
!”

Scar scratched his curly black locks,
clearly at a loss.

“Shakespeare, major,” Jocco laughed,
placing a hand on Scar’s broad shoulder. “Did you think your
sovereign never read a fucking book?” Then, just as quickly as it
came, the laughter was gone, replaced by icy indifference.
“Shouldn’t you be going? You’ve three tough days to plan
for.”

Scar was about to say
something, but suddenly thought better of it. Instead he sketched a
hasty salute and left the hall. Jocco watched him go, then turned
back to a sweating Walter Pinkton.

As three helicopters circled over the
wooded slopes several miles north of Lake Isabella, John
Lonefeather and three of his hunting companions dove for cover.
John looked at Charley Little Dog and signaled for the radio.
Charley slid the portable short-wave off his back and handed it to
the young Indian.

“You are calling Black
Bear?”

John Lonefeather nodded and set the
frequency. After several tries, Jim Carrol’s radio operator
answered. Lonefeather told of the three helicopters and was told to
await further orders. Ten minutes later they came, delivered in Big
Jim’s own gruff voice. “Follow the bastards and report in when you
see anything.”

John Lonefeather signed
off, a wide grin on his young face. This was a hell of a lot better
than rabbit hunting! Moments later all four men were jogging
northward.

The rotors of the third chopper were
still fluttering the Aspens when Jocco strode up to Josh and Cobb.
Both men’s hands were bound. Jocco’s smile was as cold as the
mountain air, puffing out in little clouds before him.

“Ready, gentlemen?”

Josh glanced at the soldiers lining up
on one side of the clearing. A few were checking their gear. Two
others were nosing about the old logger’s shack. His gaze swept
over to the second helicopter, the one holding Jessie and Flame.
Bobby-Joe Burlis and the skinny, nervous fellow called ‘Lord
Walter’ were also on board.

“Where’s the map?”

“Right here,” Jocco said, patting his
flack jacket. “But first, a little precaution I thought of last
night. Captain Heller, will you do the honors?”

Roy Heller and Sergeant Peter Cozens
came forward. Cozens was holding two round objects that looked like
space-age dog collars --- which was exactly what they were. Radio
collars used for tracking bears, cougars and other large, wild
animals. As Heller snapped on the tough, electronic devices, Josh
met Jocco’s eyes.

“You don’t need these. We won’t run
away.”

“Oh, I’m sure you won’t,” Jocco
replied. “But this way I’ll be able to monitor your progress, as
will Major Scar.” He held out his hand and Pam the Bitch gave him
something that looked like an electronic toy. “Ironic, isn’t it?
Technology, man’s greatest achievement --- and his ultimate
downfall. Ah well, all that’s in the past now. Ready?”

Josh held out his bound hands. Jocco
pulled the Tanto out of his belt and placed the razor sharp blade
between Josh’s wrists. For a moment they stood there, each one
taking the other man’s measure. Then Jocco pressed down and the
ropes parted. Heller quickly cut Cobb free and backed
away.

“The map,” Josh repeated.

“Certainly.” Jocco handed over the map
and the empty knife sheath. “You might have need of this as well.”
The Tanto was reversed and placed in Josh’s hand.

Behind Josh, Cobb stiffened, instantly
ready to make his move. He was sure he could take out Heller and
maybe the big sergeant. Both were armed. If he could get one of
their guns...

But Josh was already walking past him
towards the hills. The moment had come and gone and now there was
nothing left but to follow. At the top of the first rise Josh
turned and leveled the Tanto in Jocco’s direction. His words were
soft, yet pitched to be heard over the idling blades of the
copters.

“If you harm either one of them, I’ll
cut your heart out.”

Jocco made a mock bow. “You have three
days, professor. Major Scar will begin tracking you at eleven
hundred hours.”

Despite himself, Scar
shuddered.

Cobb checked his watch. 10:57 AM. From
their position high on the third ridge they could just make out the
clearing with the three helicopters.

“So far he’s kept his
word.”

Cobb grunted, fingering the radio
collar around his neck. “Because it pleased him to. It’s all a game
to him. A short one if we don’t get these things off.”

Both men had already tried removing
the other’s collar. Even the Tanto’s tempered edge had done little
more than scratch the space-age plastic.

Josh opened the map. As near as they
could figure it was over fifteen miles as the crow flies to the
circle marking Jocco’s cabin --- and they weren’t crows. Twenty to
twenty five miles on foot, most of it over steep terrain, cut with
streams and gullies. Josh took a rough sun sighting and mentally
fixed his next reference point some two miles away.

“They’re moving, Josh. Looks like a
dozen or more.”

Josh strained to see a knot of figures
moving away from the helicopters. Then the copters themselves took
off. Two of them flew back westward. The third, Jocco’s, headed
straight for them. As the shark-shaped machine approached, Cobb had
to hold himself back from diving for cover. Josh stood defiantly on
the bare ridge.

Following the contour of the land, the
large copter topped the ridge and hovered some fifty feet above
them. Josh could see faces pressed up against the window. One had
red hair, the other blond. He raised the Tanto in salute as the
machine slipped away to the east.

Cobb fingered his collar. “As long as
we wear these he can find us any time he wants.” Cobb looked back
at the clearing far below. “And so can One-Eye.”

Josh snorted. “You mean ‘Major Scar’.
The murdering son-of-a-bitch has come up in the world.”

Cobb grinned wolfishly. “What goes up
must come down, and I mean to bring the bastard down
hard.”

Josh turned back to the map, his
finger tracing the contour lines. At the crest of the next ridge
was a small square. “We’ll head for here. It’s supposed to be an
old ranger cabin. Maybe we can find something there to help get
these off.”

Cobb nodded and the two men started
off at a slow trot. Half an hour later they came to the cabin.
Sprawled on the rough plank floor, was a bundle of clothes. The
once all too familiar gray ashes lay in little piles around the
cuffs and open neck. Apart from mice droppings, the cabin was as it
had been before the world changed.

“The poor bastard never even made it
to the bed,” Josh remarked. Images of his own brother-in-law
looking much the same flooded his mind. Was it really only a year
ago? I felt like another life.

Both men began searching the cabin.
“King Jocco screwed up royally this time!”, Cobb beamed, looking
around at all the ranger’s gear piled on the split-log table. Extra
clothes, a sleeping bag, a two-burner Colman stove, even a pair of
snowshoes. The pile grew like Jack’s beanstalk, most of it,
however, was useless. The pack-sack, small but powerful binoculars
and cans of food, though, would come in handy, as would a hatchet,
climbing gear and a long length of rope.

Then Josh saw the radio. The car
battery had been disconnected and should still hold a charge. While
Cobb sorted the things they would take, Josh tried to contact the
Eddy back at the LAV. After several tries, he heard Gretta’s heavy
accent crackling over the static. Another woman, probably Suzy,
yelled for the others. By the time that Eddy came on, Josh had
already given the co-ordinates of Jocco’s lodge.

“Can we pick you up along the way?”,
Eddy asked.

“Negative,” Josh replied. “There’s no
roads between here and there. Just get as close as you can south of
the lodge and wait. We should be there in two days, maybe three.
Look from smoke. I’ll light a fire when we’re close.”

Cobb whistled, holding up a flare gun
and a box of colored flares. Josh grinned, shooting Cobb a thumbs
up sign. “Eddy, watch for a flare. Green for advance slowly, red
for come in blazing. Got that?”

Eddy’s voice came back loud and clear.
“Green for slow, red for kick ass. But are you sure you don’t want
us to go in there now. We can get them out.”

“No!” Josh yelled, the stress of the
last four days showing through. “For Christ’s sake, Eddy, unless he
sees me, he’ll kill them both!”

“OK, Josh, we’ll just sit tight, but
Nate says some of Jim Carrol’s boys are already in the area. They
spotted three copters early this morning flying over the lake.
Jim’s already told them to find out what they can.”

Josh swore. “Get them out of there!
One-Eye and a dozen soldiers are right behind us. If they come
across Carrol’s men, the shit will really hit the fan!”

“I’ll try, Josh, but you know Big Jim.
He wants Jocco bad. Wants the LAV too. He’s starting to move out
right now.”

“Have Nate talk to the asshole,” Josh
said, his heart racing. “Shoot the bastard if you have to, but keep
him the fuck away from my son!”

“Josh, I’ll ---”

The radio crackled, screeched and went
dead. Josh’s hopes went with it. Slowly he became aware of Cobb’s
hand on his shoulder.

“Come on. It’s time to get moving.”
Cobb, the dead ranger’s pack on his back, led Josh to the door.
“Watch your step. I’ve fixed up a little surprise for our
friends.”

Cobb had lit the Coleman stove and
placed it over the half open door. A pail half filled with kerosene
sat between the two burners. When the door was opened all the way
the stove and pail would fall, the kerosene dousing anyone below;
the lit burners would take care of the rest.

Cobb grinned wickedly, holding up a
long handled tree pruner. “The rangers must have used this for
trimming the trails. Let’s see what it works on these
collars.”

Josh smiled, suddenly back
in the game, deadly though it was. Less than five minutes later the
two of them were hurrying up the trail. Both collars were resting
comfortably in the bottom of the outhouse.

“Shit!”, Roy Heller swore, backing out
of the small wooden door, a tiny monitor beeping in his hand. “The
fuckers got them off!”

Despite himself, Sergeant Cozens
chuckled.

“Wipe that smile off your face,
sergeant,” Heller growled.”

Behind them the Ranger’s cabin burned
like a Roman candle. A half dozen men were nervously guarding the
perimeter. Out back Private Gerald ‘The Nose’ Swan was searching
around for sign. Off to one side several men were clustered round a
badly burned comrade. Thirty some feet beyond lay the smoldering
body of the first man through the door. Marco Garibaldi had gotten
that far before collapsing in a screaming heap. Scar had shot him
in the back of the head, more to shut him up than to put him out of
his misery.

The Major now stood a few feet from
Garibaldi’s remains, smoking a cigarette and trying to control his
anger. Roy Heller walked over to him, tossing the electronic
monitor away as he came.

“Smart-assed bastards got the collars
off!”

Scar grunted. “I told you these
fuckers were slick. Told that asshole Jocco too!”

Roy moved closer to Scar. “Jesus, man,
keep it down! If Jocco hears you’ve been bad-mouthing him, he’ll
have your balls!”

Scar flicked his butt away and faced
Heller, his one eye lit by the hungry flames. “You don’t get it, do
you, Dick-Head? These two were chasing are GOOD! By the time
they’re through yanking our chain, we won’t have any balls left for
Jocco to take!”