Mountain Man - 01 (31 page)

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Authors: Keith C. Blackmore

Tags: #Horror

BOOK: Mountain Man - 01
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Fighting down the sadness he felt, he walked over to Scott’s open window.

“You can get the gate below. It’s a long walk back for me.”

Scott nodded.

“Well, this is it then. Happy huntin’ out there. And watch your ass.”

“You, too.”

Gus smiled. “We’ll be fine.”

“Yeah. Have a good winter.”

“You think you’ll be back this way?” Gus asked.

Scott looked him in the eye. “Don’t know.”

“Yeah.”

Giving one last nod, Scott put the Durango into drive and eased through the gate. Gus watched the vehicle pull away, the brake lights flaring red and smoky in the tail exhaust. The SUV rose and fell in the ruts of the mountain road before sinking out of sight. Gus leaned against the gate wall, listening to the hybrid’s motor work until the sound lessened.

Gone. Just like that.

Feeling his throat tighten, Gus stayed until he composed himself. Minutes later, he turned and made his way to the garage. Roxanne hugged him, and Gus stood and breathed in her scent.

After a moment, he hugged her back.

“What do you want to do today?” she asked.

“Nothin’.”

*

They ate lunch a little later, washed up, and retired to the den, where they cuddled up on the sofa and watched old Disney animated movies. With a bottle of Captain Morgan, they stayed below ground where it was warm and comfortable. After the first movie, Roxanne stole Gus’s attention by removing her sweater, then her T-shirt and her black pants. Next, she helped him out of his clothes. He removed her bra and panties, and somewhere along the line, they started kissing. Then came the fondling. Finally, the fucking.

They exhausted themselves in their lovemaking, surprising even Gus. Roxanne had been even more demanding and physical, much more than the first night together, and once they were done, Gus collapsed on the sofa, and she covered him with her naked body.

They watched another movie, drank and ate a late supper. Very little was said between them, except the little words of new-found lovers. More rum. They had another bout of sex after moving up into the master bedroom, where Gus showed her the rubber trophy from a previous episode of house picking. The sight of the dildo made Roxanne peal laughter, and in the soft bell-like quality of the sound, Gus forgot that a friend had departed the mountain that day.

Sometime later—Scott would have known the time exactly —they feel asleep while the night deepened, the temperature dropped, and winter’s breath made the house creak.

*

In the morning, Gus slipped away from Roxanne’s form and got out of bed. He stood above her for a moment, taking in her bare breasts, the light brown nipples sunken in sleep, and her curves beneath the comforter. She whined softly, seeming to feel the chill on her exposed skin, and Gus covered her up to her chin, basking in the design of her face and how her hair splashed against her pillow. With effort, he turned away from his lover. He dressed in fresh sweatpants and a sweater, warm socks, and left the room.

Descending the stairs, Gus looked toward the black-curtained windows and noted the sunlight glowing around the edges. He went over to one and peeked outside, and his mouth dropped open at the sight. Moments later, dressed warmly in a black parka, he opened the sliding door and headed outside.

A thin layer of snow covered the ground, the deck, and the deck furniture facing Annapolis. The morning sun set the snow sparkling, almost blinding. Gus squinted and wondered if he had any sunglasses stashed somewhere. He stared out at the city and wondered if Scott might be there still. Doubting it as soon as he thought it, Gus inhaled the cold air and tasted its freshness. The gimps would be cold, if not frozen. He had noticed last winter how their activity seemed to lessen during the cold months, only to resurge in the spring with the warmer temperatures.

Exhaling, he watched his breath dissipate in the morning brightness. With a shrug, he headed back to the house, wondering if apples and cinnamon rolled oats would be an acceptable breakfast for Roxanne. He went into the kitchen, poured water from the tap, and told himself to keep an eye on the solar panels. He hadn’t had to clean them of snow in previous winters, as they generally melted the snow when the sun came out, but there was always a first time. And with the light snow, he wondered how treacherous it would be to get into town. He would have to go into Annapolis later. They didn’t have much time left before the heavy snows came.

He’d eaten half of his oatmeal before Roxanne appeared, looking sleepy.

“Mornin’,” he said.

“Mmm.” She sat down at her place. “You have coffee?”

“Yep.” He got her cup.

“Thanks.”

“Snow fell last night,” he said.

“Really?”

“Yep.”

“So what does that mean?”

“We’ve got to get down to the city. Do some last minute house picking. Won’t be long before we get snowed in up here.”

“Snowed in?”

“Yeah.”

“You mean trapped?” She looked worried.

“Mmm, more like sealed off,” Gus said. “We’ll be fine, though. Haven’t had any deadheads up here in the winter time. Too cold for them, I guess. Too much trouble sloggin’ through the snow.”

“How will we make it?”

“Oh, we’re fine. We got the panels. And the batteries store enough power to get us through snowstorms. The only thing I’m worried about is if we get a real blizzard and the panels get covered up. Even then, we just clean them off.”

“Hmm.”

“You’re worried about something?”

She fidgeted on the stool. “Maybe you should show me where these batteries are.”

Gus grinned. “Maybe. Definitely for sexual favors.”

“I’m serious here. If anything happens to you, I’m fucked.”

That made him frown. “No, it’s pretty self-sufficient. I’m not even sure how the thing works. That’s a con, especially if something does happen to the system, but nothing has yet. So don’t worry. And nothin’s gonna happen to me.”

“Mm,” Roxanne said in sullen fashion, looking lovely as she did so.

“I’m goin’ to get ready for the day. The sooner we get started the better. You up for drivin’ the beast?”

She nodded while eating a spoonful of rolled oats.

“Excelente,” Gus said in his bad Spanish accent.

After a quick run to the outhouse, he was out in the garage, suiting up in his firefighter’s pants and jacket. The boots were the last items to go on. He inspected his old shotgun and the new Benelli and figured he didn’t have to clean either. Eying the rest of the equipment in the locker and packing it away, he wondered for a moment about the roof of the house, and felt a momentary pull to the outside. Gus placed the two shotguns on the floor of the van and went through the house and out onto the deck.

Outside, the sun remained cold yet bright. Roxanne had dressed in her white coat and toque, and stood at the railing, facing the city.

“Hey,” Gus said. “You see anything wrong with the roof?”

Roxanne turned around, and for a moment, Gus didn’t think she was going to answer. She finally looked up at the roof and squinted. “No, but I don’t know what I’m looking for.”

Gus turned about and walked in reverse while looking up. Something was wrong. He felt it. Studying the length of the timberframe, he shook his head. “Well, looks fine to me too.”

“Something wrong?” she asked.

He turned and noticed that she wasn’t wearing gloves. “We’ll have to see if we can get you some gloves today.”

“You’re still set on headin’ down there?”

“Didn’t get dressed up for nothin’,” he informed her brightly.

“You should show me the batteries first.”

He shook his head, smiling at her little scowl. “I think later. After that sexual favor.”

Roxanne’s face went from drawn to having a little smile at the edges of her mouth, like a sun peeking out from behind a storm cloud.

“Oh, Gus.” She slowly unzipped the front of her coat.

“Mm,” Gus said, approving.

Roxanne opened her coat to reveal a tight-fitting sweatshirt.

It was one of his, Gus realized. “Gonna haveta get you some women’s clothes, too.”

“I can’t wear yours?” She arched her back, making the sweatshirt tighter across her chest.

“Well, I can see your points. Point, I mean.”

With a giggle, she laced her fingers around the back of his head and pulled him close for a kiss. She tasted of toothpaste, and Gus momentarily lost track of everything else.

She broke away after a while, her blue eyes twinkling. “Here’s that favor then.”

“Oh.”

She gently lowered his head to her breasts. Gus complied. He kissed one through the cotton, then moved to kiss the other. He felt her hands tighten around his neck, and before he could back up, he saw her knee coming toward his face.

28
 

Gus flew backward and landed hard on the deck. His world went black. Somewhere in the soupy black of his off-line consciousness, he heard elongated words directed at him, but the meaning was lost. He heard a far-off explosion, or at least what
felt
like an explosion, and wondered what was running down his throat.
Something
was running down his throat. He was aware of swallowing gobs of it, feeling the reflexive click of swallowing. A hard lump, or lumps, got caught in there, and he coughed. Another swallow and another rock went down. Pain. Pain was inside his skull and gouging his darkness like thunderbolts. He grimaced and felt the embers of a distant fire closing in like a tide of white noise.

He opened an eye and thought for a moment he was falling into the sky. Realization crept in that he was on the deck. The white noise rushed back. He blinked. His nose and mouth exploded with torrential agony, lighting up his returning consciousness like a soundless alarm klaxon. Feeling as if concrete blocks chained his arm, he reached up and felt his face.

And gasped.

He struggled to sit up. He got to his elbows and gazed down at his bare hand covered in blood. His face sizzled as if a hot grill had smashed into it. Blinking again, he became aware of Roxanne standing on the deck beside him, fiddling with something in her hands. As he watched, she lifted the item to the heavens.

Flare gun
.

The gun went off with a loud cough, and a second sun cut the sky with a smoky line.

Jesus Christ
. What was she doing?

“Roxanne…” Gus got to one knee.

She jerked as if caught doing something criminal, and her face quickly morphed from startled surprise to one of violence. She ran at him and kicked at his face. Gus got a hand up in time to have her foot smash into it, flipping him onto his back. She stomped on his stomach, and the wind left his guts. A kick to the side of his face flipped him over onto his side. He felt the follow up boot to the ribs.

“Sexual favor, huh?” she snarled. “Here’s your goddamn sexual favor. How d’ya like being boot-fucked?
Huh
?”

She kicked him in the ribs again. He sensed her drawing back for another shot, and he protected his crotch, knowing it was all over if she got him there. Her foot crunched on his hip bone. She punched him in the face, and he felt his senses tilt once more. More punches to the face. Claws. She was
clawing
him.

“Rox––”

He heard her scream and felt thumbnails graze his eyebrows. A split second later, they found his eyes. His lids closed in reflex, and he twisted away from her fury, hiding his face as another bolt of agony crackled through his skull. His shoulders were grasped, and he felt himself bent backward, straightened out on the snow.

What he thought was her elbow slammed into his face, bouncing his head off the deck.

Another elbow and he felt bone crack.

A third impact…

But he was floating, and the force of the connection felt muted, as if something had splashed down beside where he drifted in a dark tide of unconsciousness.

Then total blackness.

*

Breathing heavily, Roxanne looked down at the pulped mess that had been Gus’s face. The bastard brought out the worse in her. Why couldn’t he have just shown her the batteries? It would’ve been easier. Once Jonathan got there, he’d take Gus into a back room and work him over––no, he’d
torture
him––cutting off parts until Gus screamed what he wanted to know. That wasn’t Roxanne’s way. She liked a softer touch, but she could be hard if she had to be. It was all a fluke meeting up with Gus and Scott, anyway, a wonderful fluke for her, even though Edgar actually
had been
trying to rape her. The fucker. He’d be with Jonathan and the gang, and they were all down there somewhere, starving and freezing.

Roxanne remembered her dues. The gang had protected her in her travels from Ontario. Jonathan had taken a liking to her, which was fortunate as he was the leader. He’d saved her ass and treated her good. As good as Gus had.

It was just that she’d met Jonathan first.

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