“He only comes here at all because you trade with him, Sally. You know what he’s like don’t you?” His voice was plaintive and he looked tired. Sally knew Jeff had been in a scrape with Maul before but it had been a long time ago now and she’d never had any trouble with the man. She felt sorry for him living alone way in the hills as he did. What kind of a life could he possibly have?
“I don’t have a problem with him,” she said. Jeff looked to Mouse and shrugged.
“Someone needs to put the man in his grave,” Mouse said bitterly.
“Why don’t you try it Mouse?” Sally asked.
“If Oakes was still sheriff around here I might!” Mouse said. “But this new fella would have the law on me in no time flat.”
“Joe’s been here a good while now,” Sally said of the sheriff, “and he is the law himself.”
“He doesn’t have Mercy’s best interests at heart; if he did, he would have sorted Maul himself.”
“Well, at least that should be the end of Thorndean for a few more months,” Jeff said settling back in his seat with his drink in hand. Mouse was scowling at his own glass and Sally, who knew the hot tempers of these isolated men, felt this was as good a place as any to rest the conversation about Maul Thorndean. She went to the galley kitchen and started on the sandwiches for the two customers; while frying a little of one of Maul’s steaks to let them get a whiff of what they were missing.
The afternoon was quiet, as ever in the Lone Wolf Tavern, and Sally had plenty of time to her thoughts. Customers would come in one at a time throughout the day, sometimes overlapping with someone else but most times not. They would eat something, have coffee or some just a quick drink to warm the blood before going out to work in the woods. There had been a working silver mine in the area until about forty years previously and she could only imagine how much money former owners of this tavern must have made back then.
As she thought of the mine, she looked absently out the window at the rear of the building to the slopes where the mine opening had been. She could just about make out where it was, but it was all overgrown now and long neglected. The wood and trees around it looked pale and dead and she doubted anyone had been near it in years.
That evening the place filled around 8pm just as true dark was falling. Full to her tavern was at least one person at each table and one at the bar but it was enough for her to cover her small costs in running the place. Sally had bought it with money left in his will from her late father, a man who mined here and always felt he had left his heart in these mountains. She wanted to be where he would be most happy to find her and she also hoped that she could lose her heart to the place in the same way. It hadn’t happened so far, but she had no plans to leave just yet.
By 9pm, all Sally expected to be in were there, including Mouse, who was one of those men who had the ability to completely forget any ills he might have had with a person in a matter of hours, unless that person was Maul Thorndean. He sat smiling at the bar talking to everyone as ever. The mood was jolly but Sally knew all it would take was one mention of the afternoon to change that. And so it was inevitable that someone mentioned it.
“I hear Maul Thorndean was down today?” Sam Brainard said with a smile from his corner table. He wasn’t addressing anyone in particular but Mouse answered him.
“He was, more’s the pity.”
“Any trouble out of him?” Sam asked.
“None,” Sally said before Mouse could answer. “Same as ever.”
“I was out chopping near his land earlier today,” Sam said. “Best not to think about how he feels about it. I guess he’d come and let me know if he had a problem.”
“Be sure he would,” Jeff said. He was at the bar beside Mouse.
“You’re just sore he vented his spleen at you that time you wouldn’t sell him anything," Alan Carey laughed from his table by the door.
“He had nothing to buy with!” Jeff almost screeched in his defence.
“Poor man, not a penny to his name and you wouldn't do the decent Christian thing and help a man out?” Alan was joking with Jeff and the two had had this conversation in the past but still Jeff was riled by it every time.
“I don’t see you bringing up warm clothes and food from your own home to give to him,” he said back hotly.
“I like to do my charity work out of the public eye,” Alan said smiling like a benign priest.
“Yeah, so far out of the public eye, you don’t even see it yourself, I bet,” Mouse grinned.
“If you were all as generous to Maul as you are to me with tips, he would have been dead long ago!” Sally said with a loud laugh.
“We’ve tipped you generously with our wit and conversation over all these years,” Alan said with a wink to his fellows.
“And for that I can only apologise,” Sam said standing up as if to leave. He took some coins from his pocket and set them down by his glass and took his coat.
“You’ve no need to apologise, Sam, I’ve yet to take up your empty glass without finding you’ve left a little something,” Sally said, and she was genuinely appreciative. He was a nice young man, and she was very fond of him.
“You leaving already?” Mouse asked Sam.
“Yeah, my back is aching and I need an early night tonight to sleep off the day’s axe-swinging,” Sam said.
“You won’t have one more?” Alan said. “I can’t be left with only this riff—raff.” He motioned to the room.
“Why don’t you head on home too if it bothers you,” Jeff said without turning to look at him and Alan winked at Sally and Sam.
“I think I’ll hang on until just about the time you’re leaving Jeff and I can walk down the hill with you. You might even see me home, but no kissing mind!” The look of mirth on Alan’s face was like that of a beaming child, and the others in the tavern couldn’t help but smile along with him. All that was, save Jeff Sorkin, who was suddenly very affronted by the sexual slur he perceived in what Alan had said.
“You calling me queer!” Jeff said getting up and making for Alan with a ferocity no one there thought him capable of. Mouse grabbed him and Sally went to block his path as Sam leaned over the table that separated him from Jeff to try to add to slowing him down.
“Hey, hey, take it easy, Jeff,” Alan said, “We’re only having some fun here!”
“Come now boys," Sally said. “It’s only fun if everyone is having fun.”
“I’m sick of his shit,” Jeff said, he was very upset, more so than Sally had ever recalled seeing him.
“I was only joshing,” Alan said sounded wounded.
“Come on, Jeff, he was only playing around,” Sam said.
“This is none of your business,” Jeff said back snapping his head to look at Sam like he’d hit him. Sam held his hands in the air,
“Fair enough, I’m just trying to keep the peace.”
“Sit down, Jeff,” Mouse said. “Alan will get you your next drink.” Jeff looked back at Alan who nodded in agreement. Jeff was breathing heavily as he resumed his seat and it took a few moments for him to settle.
“Get him what he wants, Sal,” Alan said. “And everyone else too for that matter,” he added. The place was silent now.
“I won’t be serving anything unless you boys all cheer up,” Sally said trying to infuse some life back into the evening.
“OK,” Mouse said after another moments quiet. “What say we bust out the cards and get a game going?”
“I could go for that,” Jeff said, and he looked over to Alan. “You?”
“You bet,” Alan said with a slight smile and Sally knew that was the end of it. She never ceased to wonder at the way men would flare up and fight like that and then be friends only moments later even if it had come to blows. She shook her head in puzzlement for not the first time at these customer of hers.
“No gambling with real money,” Sally said, and she took up the glass and money at Sam’s vacated table.
“Imaginary money only,” Mo
use assured her.
“We can’t tempt you to a game, Sam?” Alan asked. Sam smiled and went to the door shaking his head,
“I don’t even have imaginary money to gamble with,” he said and waving once went out into the cool night for his walk home.
The men mumbled a collective goodbye as they moved to the table in the centre of the room where the game would take place and Sally went to the bar to pull the drinks and go on living in the same way she did every other day in the small town of Mercy.
Chapter 3
For weeks now the white Maul had first noticed on the small cluster of trees had spread across his land. It had not only spread but new unaffected areas changed in the same way and it was coming in from three sides of his land and spreading outwards in a fan into the forest. He still did not understand what it was, but he was surer than ever now that it was some disease that was killing the trees. The speed at which it was happening was alarming — in only three weeks a third of his trees now showed the scarring and most of these were dead already.
Maul had never seen anything like it before and had no idea what to do about it. There was no one in town he could ask, not that he would anyway, and no memory or knowledge from his father to think back on. He took up his keenest axe and went outside to a part of his land where the trees had died recently. He felt the bark and looked at the trunk and limbs, taking a twig in his hand and napping it with ease, the loud crack reverberating in the forest. Leaning back, his took aim and let the heavy steel head thwack into the tree. The trunk shattered and splintered under the blow, and thousands of loud creaked followed straight away as the tree began to fall down, taking some its neighbours with it. Maul jumped back, dropping his axe in surprise and moved clear of the falling trunks.
The whole seemed to crash around him for a moment — the sound was louder than any tree felling he’d ever heard, and somehow far more terrifying. It was as though the wood itself was crying out in pain before being silenced with the thud on the hard ground. Birds flapped and jakkered in the air, angry from being disturbed and frightened at the same time. Bit of twigs, branches, bark and dust flew about the air and Maul covered his face against the wave that came at him.
When it all cleared, he stood there stunned.
“Holy fuck,” he said absently. Never in his life had he seen a thing like this. The trees had broken like they were hollow porcelain vases. Maul leaned and looked at a part of trunk that lay nearest him. He picked it up and was surprised by the lightness. Turning it over in his hands, he saw that it was not hollow. The wood and rings were there all the way through and in fact inside it looked rather healthy. It was too light, however, that was the giveaway apart from the look of the bark.
The birds had settled now, and all was calm. Maul surveyed the new landscape; seven trees in all had fallen and two more were leaning perilously. He’d probably have to finish knocking them down, so it happened on his terms. He looked around the ground for the axe but didn’t see it immediately. Kicking at some of the bark and twigs he came across the handle. As he bent to pick it up, he saw something that stayed his hand. The part of the handle visible to him was white, just as the trees had been. His mind didn’t comprehend how this could be possible. He could understand a disease spreading from one living tree to another, but this was a long dead piece of wood, the handle for a tool for many years by now. It was impossible it could attract the same disease as the trees and yet this was exactly what he was looking at.
A breeze filtered over the ground then and Maul’s incredulity was stretched even more when he saw that white was spreading over the rest of the axe handle right before his very eyes. Understanding came just as quickly when he realised it was the dust and debris from the crashing trees that lay over the handle and the wind moved some it off. He chuckled nervously at his own strange fear of the moment before. Composing himself he reached down and took up the axe.
By the time he had picked his path across the destruction to the first of the leaning trees he saw that there was no need for the axe at all. He pushed on the trunk and it fell easily, making that same crashing howling noise as before. The second one gave just as easily and soon all was quiet again. Maul looked around and couldn’t stop the idea that soon enough there would no trees left at all on his land. There was no stopping this thing, whatever it was.
As he stood there surveying the ground the clacking noise to the chopping came to his ears. Without knowing he was doing it, Maul looked in the direction of the sound. He wondered if that young man was doing the same thing he’d been doing himself, trying to stop the infection spreading. The idea passed, and he didn’t think so. Maul had made his way to the top not all that long ago and had been making a conscious effort to look at the trees on his way as he went. He’d been out scouting for animals too and had been mindful of them too and had found no evidence of anything wrong with the plant—life anywhere else.
Another thought, perhaps more pressing came to mind — it was possible this man who worked with trees all day might know how to combat what was happening on Maul’s land. Approaching anyone from town was unpleasant to say the least, but he guessed he was in dire straits now and this was as good a solution, or possible solution, he would be able to come up with. If that young man didn’t know what to do, then Maul didn’t see he wouldn’t have any options left at all. Thinking no more on it, he set off following his ears in search of the chopper.
It was close on forty—five minutes when Maul came across the man. Maul watched him for a few moments, taking him in as though he may need to fight this man — this was something was so ingrained in him he wasn’t even aware that he did it anymore. The man was young, only his twenties. He was tall and thin but his frame must have held more strength that it looked capable of based on the divots made in the trees when he landed his blows with the axe. His swing was graceful and level and there was a skill in it that Maul could appreciate. He found that he had drifted into watching and a couple of minutes later shook his head like clearing it of a hideous thought.
“You know much about trees apart from how to hit them with an axe?” Maul called down between blows. The man’s next crack was off and the axe shuddered in his hand and a noise other than sweet contact lilted over the forest.
“Fuck!” the man said letting his axe fall and rubbing one sore hand with the other. He looked over at Maul with a sour puss on him. “You couldn’t have come closer to ask?”
“I figured you would be able to hear me fine from here,” Maul answered, not put out at all by the man’s annoyed tone. The man nodded his head at the blunt logic.
“I guess I do,” he conceded, and a smile stole the corners of his mouth.
“So do you know anything about trees or not?” Maul asked.
“A little, what kind of information are you looking for?”
“I think I got a disease on the trees on my land.”
“Dutch Elm?” the man asked.
“No, no elms left up there,” Maul said, “Something white growing on the bark and the tree dies in days and its spreading like wildfire.” The man thought about this a moment looking at the ground and biting his lower lip in concentration. Then he shook his head.
“Not anything I can think off hand,” he said. “I’ll be happy to go up and have a look with you?” Maul nodded at this and stood there. “You mean now?” the man asked and Maul nodded again.
“Now is when it's happening,” he said.
“Fair enough,” the man said, and he took up his axe and bag and walked up to Maul.
“I’m Sam Brainard, by the way,” he said when he got to him. Maul took the outstretched hand and pumped it once, this man was doing him a favour after all, and then started walking back home.
Sam tried starting many conversations on the way but the best he could get out of Maul was the odd grunt and a couple of nods or shakes of the head. Maul didn’t have any need nor want of chit—chat; he just wanted to know if he would lose his trees and if so how long before
the whole mountainside was dead.
At last, they came to the first of the trees showing signs of the disease. They were not on Maul’s land yet but it was within distance now.
“This is it,” he said stopping so abruptly that Sam almost walked into the back of him. Sam looked at the tree and then putting his gear down ran his hands on the bark. He looked a little confused and then Maul could see there was something he wanted to say but he didn’t quite know how to say it.
“Spit it out, boy,” Maul snapped to spur him on.
“This looks like it was burned or hit by lightning or something a long time ago,” Sam said almost apologetically. “I don’t think this is anything recent.”
“I know what it looks like!” Maul said indignantly. “It’s not old though, this has all happened over the last few weeks.”
“All of it?” Sam asked doubtfully.
“Every fuckin’ tree!” Maul said. It didn’t look like this young fella would know anything at all.
“I’ve never seen anything like this, but I have a lot of books at home. I can look and see if I can find anything out.” Maul let Sam’s words linger in his mind for a moment.
“So you don’t have any suggestions?” Maul asked looking out over the trees.
“Not really,” Sam said. “Other than the obvious.”
“What’s the obvious?”
“Containment.” Maul looked at him still not sure what he was getting at. Sam took a moment to notice this and then added, “If you cut a gap between the sick trees and the healthy ones, that might stop it.”
“Depending on how it's spreading,” Maul said. Sam nodded,
“Yes.” They stood a moment and looked around at the trees.
“I cut one down on my land but it broke on the impact of the axe and seven trees around it came down and broke up as well,” Maul said.
“Broke up?”
“Looked healthy enough on the inside but much weaker than it should have been,” he handed the wood he’d forgotten he’d was carrying to Sam. Turning it over in his hands, he felt the heft and ran his fingers through the grain.
Rampike Page 2