Shot Clock

by Mark Parragh

  “Mr. Crane,” he said at last, very faintly. “I’m cold.”

  “I know,” said Crane. “I’m sorry. “We’re going to get you out of this weather as fast as we can.”

  Ahead, Swift heard and looked back over her shoulder. “Hang on,” she said. “And quit griping. You’ve been cold before. Remember Kalandar Pass?”

  Redpoll smiled to himself. “Thank you, Mr. Crane,” he said, “for your…compassion. For a wounded enemy.”

  “Are we enemies?” he asked, and he heard Josh snort at that.

  Redpoll considered for a moment. “Not anymore. All I ask you…be good to her.”

  “Shut up!” Swift snapped. “Don’t you do that. Don’t. I’m going to get you out of here, and you’re going to keep on being an asshole, you understand me? Don’t you go soft now.”

  Redpoll said nothing. He looked forward, at Swift’s back, and soon Crane realized he was gone again, whispering softly in Pashto to someone who wasn’t there.

  The rain had stopped entirely by the time they reached the paved trail that circled around the end of the lake. They made better time here, moving quickly and silently. Crane listened intently for any movement nearby. After a couple minutes, Swift made Josh take her end of the stretcher while she went ahead to scout the trail.

  “You know,” Josh said softly when she’d left, “we could just put this guy down and get out of here.”

  “No, we couldn’t,” said Crane.

  Josh sighed. “No, I guess not. Just a thought.”

  Crane said nothing. The strain had to be getting to Josh. He wasn’t meant for this sort of thing. He was supposed to be back in Palo Alto, running his empire or sitting on the deck of his yacht, dreaming up grandiose ways to save the world. Crane suspected Josh’s ongoing argument with Redpoll was in part meant to distract himself from his fear, but part of it was very real. Encountering Redpoll must have been another major shock. In many ways, Redpoll was Josh’s antithesis. He was smart, rich, and powerful enough to shape the world. But he’d looked at the same world Josh saw and come to the exact opposite conclusions. Josh would need to prove that what he was doing was right, that the world really could be saved, that there was hope.

  And yet, he thought to himself, here we are, in the wreckage of a luxury hotel as the world’s ruling elites tear each other to pieces. Perhaps this was Redpoll’s trump card, the argument that proved his point beyond rebuttal. Josh had to be deeply troubled by it.

  But that was Josh’s concern. Crane’s was keeping them alive. He saw Swift coming back up the path, a dark figure moving smoothly, sweeping the muzzle of her weapon from side to side as she scanned the ground around them.

  “Clear to the terminal,” she said as she rejoined them. “There’s nobody there, and it’s dark.”

  Which suggested the power had been shut down there. If true, that would be a problem, but they would deal with it when they got there.

  They followed the trail around the tip of the lake and headed back along the far shore. The trail ran down the center of a narrow strip of relatively flat land that the developers must have graded out between the lakeshore and the mountain slopes. To their left, the hotel’s manicured grounds gave way to pine forest and, above those, bare gray stone strewn with patches of snow. Still higher, Crane knew, was the glacier he’d seen from the hotel itself, and then, at the top of the mountains, the hotel’s ski lodge.

  As they came closer, Crane saw a wooden dock jutting out into the lake. On the other side of the trail was the wide cement approach ramp leading up to the funicular station. There were signs, and a large wooden awning that extended out from the opening in the mountainside. Along the sides of the plaza were ticket stands and a tourist information booth, all closed down and shuttered now. The opening into the funicular tunnel itself yawned like a dark mouth waiting to swallow them up.

  Again, Swift moved ahead, jogging up the shallow grade, checking the spaces between the ticket booths. She disappeared into the darkness of the station, and a few moments later, Crane saw her flashlight beam sweep through the darkness. Then it flicked off again. A moment later, she emerged and beckoned them forward.

  Crane and Josh carried the stretcher up and underneath the wooden overhang to meet her.

  “Clear,” Swift whispered. “But I don’t like it. I think the power’s down.”

  They set Redpoll’s stretcher down, and Josh and Swift produced flashlights. Swift looked expectantly at Crane.

  “Broke mine,” he admitted.

  Swift sighed and pulled another from inside her coat. “You’re hopeless,” she said as she handed it over.

  The interior of the station was bare cement against the stone of the mountain. The only prominent feature was the funicular car itself. It was bright red, about twenty feet long, with two sets of doors on either side and windows running around from waist level up. It sat on a level track that headed straight back out of the station, and then the tunnel veered sharply up. There were four rails, Crane saw as he swept the light over them. The outer two were for guidance. The car’s rear wheels were on struts that would swing down to keep it level as it went up or down the slope.

  The inner two rails were below the others. There was a drive rail, wider and studded with square holes for a gear beneath the car. Beside that was the smaller charged rail that provided the power. And that was how it moved, an electric motor taking power from the track itself, a geared-down shaft slowly turning, and the drive gear meshing into the center rail, pulling the car up the mountainside tooth by tooth.

  Except none of that was going to happen if there wasn’t any power to the rail.

  And it was cold here, he realized suddenly. Cold air flowed down the tunnel from the top of the mountain and washed out over the lake. They’d dressed for cold, but it would still wick away body heat from exposed skin. It wouldn’t do Redpoll any good, either.

  “Over here,” Josh called, and Crane turned to see him in an alcove in the rear corner of the station. Josh flipped a heavy switch, and nothing happened. “Nothing, see? Lights, PA system, safety controls, emergency cutoff to the rails. Everything looks fine from here. It’s got to be turned off somewhere else.”

  Crane shook his head. That somewhere else might be at the top of the mountain, or it might be somewhere beneath the hotel. He had no idea, and they didn’t have time to search.

  “Well, this is going to suck,” said Swift.

  She played her light across the tunnel entrance. On the right side was a cement walkway with a metal handrail separating it from the track. As the tunnel headed sharply up the mountainside, the walkway gave way to a steep flight of cement stairs. Crane tried to remember how many hundred feet up it would be to the trail that led along the edge of the glacier.

  “There’s no way we’re going to get the stretcher up there,” he said.

  Swift started to argue, but then just shook her head.

  “We’ll put him in the car,” Crane said, “out of this cold. Josh stays with him, we go up.”

  “There isn’t room to land outside,” she said.

  She was right, he realized. If they had to bring one of the Chinooks down to pick up Josh and Redpoll, they would have to land somewhere else. The closest spot would be on the marshy ground at the end of the lake where it was at least open and relatively flat. One of them would have to stay with the helicopter while the other came back here to help Josh carry Redpoll back out. And every mercenary soldier in the valley would see them land there. It would be a race to see who got to the Chinook first, and if Crane had to bet on that, he wouldn’t bet on them.

  In short, it was an insane plan. The whole thing had been crazy from the beginning. But if there was any hope of saving Redpoll, they had to make it work. What if it was his mother lying in her own cold, congealing blood on that improvised stretcher? How desperate would he be to save her? How many times had he fantasized as a boy about being there when it happened? Somehow pulling his mother from the burning wreckage, saving her,
changing everything that came after? No, if there was even the slightest chance, he knew he would push himself as hard as Swift was. He would take the same chances she was taking right now.

  “Do you want to stay here?” he asked her. “I’ll go for a chopper. You can get them staged and then guide me down with the flashlights.”

  She thought about it, and Crane wondered if one of the things she was considering was whether he’d take the risk of coming back for her if he managed to get airborne. He wouldn’t leave her, but if she didn’t believe that, she must know he wouldn’t leave without Josh.

  He couldn’t know which factor made up her mind, but eventually she said, “No. They’ll have men guarding those choppers. You’ll need me.”

  He squeezed her hand quickly. “Okay,” he said. “Let’s get them settled and start climbing.”

  Chapter 32

  Josh didn’t like it, but he didn’t see any other choice. It wasn’t like he was going to carry Redpoll’s stretcher up a thousand feet of stairs.

  Crane won’t leave you here. And Swift sure as hell isn’t going anywhere without her psycho father. So yeah, nothing to worry about. You guys go steal a helicopter. We’ll just wait here by ourselves in the dark until you get back.

  In the control alcove, they found a metal tool that fit into a bolt-sized hole in the side of the car to release the doors. Crane pulled them open with a harsh, metallic shriek, and they carried Redpoll inside. Plastic seats lined the car beneath the windows, but there was plenty of room in the middle for standing or stacking gear. They maneuvered the stretcher around a pole and set it down at the rear of the car.

  Swift took a good ten minutes changing Redpoll’s wet, blood-encrusted blankets for dry ones she’d taken from the gift shop. Then she waved them off and spent a minute hunched over the old man as he and Crane waited at the other end of the car.

  “Lights out,” Crane murmured. “Keep quiet. We’ll close the doors on the way out.”

  He flicked his light at a panel next to the open door. “There’s another key in there if you need it. Don’t use it. Unless this thing is literally on fire, you’re safer in here than outside.”

  “Right,” he said.

  “When you hear the helicopter…”

  “Get to da choppah!” Josh interrupted.

  “What?”

  “Predator. Schwarzenegger…never mind.” Christ. It’s like he was raised by wolves.

  “When you hear the helicopter, stay right where you are,” Crane said. “We’re going to have to land somewhere. One of us will come back to get you.”

  “Right,” he said. “What can go wrong?”

  “A lot. You’ve still got that pistol?”

  Josh flashed back to the main conference hall. It had just been that morning. Hank David dying, thrusting the pistol into his hands. Make them pay.

  He nodded. “Five rounds in it.”

  “Keep it ready,” said Crane. “Do whatever it takes to keep yourself alive. Not him. Not me. You. But that’s your absolute last resort. If you have a choice of shooting or running, run.”

  Josh let out a breath. “Yeah,” he whispered. “Don’t worry. I’ll leave the action hero stuff to you. I’m not keen on killing people to begin with.”

  “You might have to before this is over. Can you handle that?”

  He didn’t have time to answer. At the far end of the car, Swift stood up and then bent to kiss Redpoll’s forehead. “I’ll be back,” she told him. “I promise.”

  Redpoll might have heard her, or the sound he made could have been an unconscious groan. Josh couldn’t tell.

  Swift collected herself for a moment. Then she turned to Crane and said, “Let’s go.”

  And then they were gone. Crane closed the doors, and he saw their lights bobbing off toward the tunnel up the mountainside. He was alone with Redpoll.

  Not exactly how you pictured your little mountain vacation, is it?

  He sat on the floor beside Redpoll with his back against the seats behind him and his knees drawn up. It was cold, and the edge of the seat was uncomfortable against his back. He leaned forward and wrapped his arms around his knees, and then switched off the flashlight.

  Time passed. Redpoll moaned gently in the dark. Josh’s eyes gradually adjusted until he could make out the ghostly contours of the car, and the empty station outside.

  Just like camp when Todd Mornay locked you in the boathouse.

  This is colder.

  Okay, but the same idea. What do you think ever happened to him?

  Todd Mornay? He’s probably managing the service department at a Toyota dealership in Riverside.

  Maybe. However his life turned out, I bet it’s not what he was expecting.

  Whose is? I sure as hell wasn’t expecting to end up here.

  Couldn’t have called this one.

  We’re living in the least likely of all possible worlds.

  His reverie was interrupted by Redpoll, who shouted suddenly and tried to sit upright. He failed, and fell back against the pillow of folded blankets. He cried out, and it sounded like he was calling out to someone. Josh couldn’t understand his words, but he heard the fear in the old man’s voice.

  “It’s all right,” he said softly. “You’re not alone.”

  Redpoll took a couple shallow breaths. “Mr. Sulenski,” he finally said, his voice weak.

  “We’re safe,” Josh said. “They’ve gone to get a helicopter. We just have to wait here until they come back.”

  “Turnstone. He betrayed me?” Redpoll looked up at him in confusion.

  “Looks that way,” said Josh. “What’s with all the bird names, anyway? Swift, Redpoll, Turnstone? They’re birds. Why is that?”

  Redpoll laughed softly. “Not my idea,” he said. “Not at first. I didn’t want names. We would be shadows. Nameless, faceless. It’s foolish, I know. I was young and naive. I learned the Americans were watching us. They gave us names.”

  “So you just adopted your CIA code names? Is that where Team Kilo came from too?”

  Redpoll smiled. “It got awkward, not knowing what to call each other.”

  Josh sighed and shook his head. “Well, it’s good to see my tax dollars at work, I guess.”

  “How you must hate me.”

  “I don’t hate you,” said Josh. “I just think you wasted your life. You could have done so much good. You know, I’ve been thinking about what you said, about the girl you loved. You got that wrong. You missed the point.”

  Redpoll struggled to roll up onto one elbow. “How so, Mr. Sulenski?”

  “This isn’t the future! We’re not looking back at something awful and telling ourselves it’s okay that that awful thing happened because it all worked out in the end. We’re there. Right now. And you’re saying we should just let the bad thing happen because someday, years from now, we’ll decide it was worth it. Who does that?”

  Redpoll coughed and groaned.

  “Imagine you’re back there now,” said Josh. “In college, ready to walk away from that girl you love. It’s happening now.”

  “Yes,” Redpoll murmured. “Everything feels very close.”

  “And suddenly I pop in from the future and tell you go ahead, just leave her because it’ll be fine. You’ll go on without her and you’ll have power and money and, from what they tell me, a really bitchin’ boat. Hell, you won’t know any better. Why don’t I just go all in and tell you you were right? The world really does end and you saved mankind and you’re the king of the wasteland or whatever you thought. Just go ahead and drop her now. What would you do? You’d tell me to piss off, and do exactly what you did, wouldn’t you? You’d fight for her.”

  Redpoll was looking at him in something like astonishment.

  “You’re right,” he said. “That’s just what I would do.” Then he laughed, and his voice sounded stronger than Josh had heard it in hours.

  “Life is amazing,” said Redpoll after a moment. “Miraculous. Even now, in the final moments
, still it brings new surprises.”

  He reached up and grabbed Josh by his forearms and drew him closer. “Remember this,” he hissed, “if you remember nothing else.” He leaned in close and whispered in Josh’s ear, “Makamaad katsay oh tula mehile hoba fetoho yo oh batlang ho ay bona lefat seng…tell him.”

  What the hell?

  “Do you have it? Repeat it back.”

  Josh looked into the intensity in Redpoll’s eyes, felt the strength of the old man’s grip on his arms. He shook his head. “Again.”

  Redpoll repeated it.

  Oh, a long string of nonsense syllables. Good thing you’re good at memorizing nonsense.

  Put it to a tune.

  Batlang ho ay bona lefat seng…makamaad katsay oh…

  “Do you have it?” Redpoll hissed again.

  “Yeah,” Josh said, still confused. “I’ve got it.”

  “Tell me.”

  “I’ve got it.”

  “Repeat it!”

  Josh did, and finally Redpoll nodded and released his grip on Josh’s arms. “Yes,” he breathed, and now he sounded tired, more tired than Josh could imagine. He rolled over onto his back.

  “Do what your conscience tells you, Mr. Sulenski. I place my trust in you. I meant for there to be just one, but perhaps two is better.”

  “I don’t understand. Two what? What does that mean?”

  “Tell her I’m sorry,” Redpoll breathed. “I pushed her so hard. I couldn’t show her gentleness. It was because I saw what was coming. How hard she’d need to be. But she never quit. Even fighting back against me, she never gave up. Just like now. She’ll never give up. Tell her I loved her. With all my might. I was always proud…so proud of her.”

  He stopped and took a breath.

  “My fierce little spark,” he murmured as he let it out. “My little girl.”

  Josh waited, listening in the dark for the next breath. But it didn’t come.

  No, no, no, no.

  “Come on, come on,” said Josh. “Hang on, they’re coming. Talk to me.”

  Oh, fuck! Oh ,fuck!

  Josh shook Redpoll’s shoulder. Nothing. His panic grew as he leaned over, tentatively pressed both his palms against the still chest, and gave a push. Blood bubbled up from Redpoll’s mouth, staining his teeth and running down his neck. At the same time, a loud voiced groan erupted from the body. Josh jumped, startled, and nearly fell backward. He caught himself with one arm and looked at Redpoll in horror.