by Bart Paul
I stopped the Silverado behind the empty bunkhouse and slipped out with my rifle, drifting away from my truck as quick as I could. I found shelter in the darkness trying to figure who else was there. The ranch house with its sagging porch sat unlighted under the poplars, looking abandoned and ready to sink into the earth. There was no telling how soon Aaron Fuchs or Mitch’s bunch would be pulling in. When they did, things might settle right down. Or all hell could break loose.
I saw Erika kill the headlights and get out of the pickup. She looked around. Standing in the ranchyard where she’d grown up seemed to disorient her, like she could barely keep her feet. Then I heard her shout her brother’s name. I caught a movement off to my right, but whatever it was had disappeared into the dark. When I looked back towards the truck, Erika was gone, too.
If what I’d seen was a man, he’d flanked me. I stayed still for a minute just watching, and caught something move at the edge of a cedar postpile by the equipment shed. Sticking up from behind the shed was the white shape of a rental truck box that the dark clouds had kept hidden from view. I wondered if in the middle of all this mess, Buddy Hornberg had decided to just get out of Dodge.
There was no sound. It was like whoever was there wasn’t even leaving footprints on the wet ground. What I could hear next was the noise of eighteen tires hissing by out on the wet pavement before the headlights of a semi arced over my head as the road curved north. I used the sound and light to cover distance fast until I was almost on top of whoever was moving in the dark.
I chambered a round as a shape moved in the shadow. Then I pointed the Remington and cleared my throat.
“Step into the light.”
“Whoa—easy.”
“Jack?”
I moved closer so I could whisper.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
“Sarah radioed me,” he said. I could see he was carrying his department 12 gauge. “Told me you was heading here, and could I keep an eye on you? Back you up without gettin’ us both shot or tipping off Mitch.”
“How long you been here?”
“Not long,” he said.
“Think anybody saw you?”
“Nah. I parked way down by the hot springs gate.” He swung open the cylinder of his Smith & Wesson and checked his load, then holstered it. “So what’s the play?”
I pointed toward Dan’s truck with my rifle just as the semi faded away and the ranchyard went dark. Jack started to say something, but I shushed him. We heard Erika shout Buddy’s name again, but this time it was more of a shriek. Like she was desperate. A short line of cars shot by, following the semi, their headlights sweeping the damp air above the housetop and throwing the long shadow of the gas tank on its spindly legs clear across the ranchyard again and again, like it was moving right towards us. But now the shadow of a man moved with it, arcing fast across the sheds and dirt and corral boards, the long shadow making the man look forty feet tall. Then, just as quick, the lights were gone. It was way after midnight and another car might not pass again for an hour. I watched disappearing taillights as the darkness settled.
“Buddy, you think?” Jack said.
I shook my head no. “VanOwen.”
A bright white LED beam popped on in someone’s hand.
“It’s him, alright,” Jack said.
There was movement to the side of Dan’s pickup. VanOwen whipped the light around. The white beam landed right on Erika’s face. She flinched like he’d hit her. He wore a camo hoodie against the storm with the hood pushed back from his face. He carried no visible weapon but I wasn’t counting on him being unarmed.
He backed her against the truck, jabbing her with the end of his steel cane. From where I hid, I could see them arguing but not hear a word. I set the Remington on the postpile and motioned for Jack to sit tight. He looked at me like I was nuts when I walked out toward VanOwen without the rifle. I covered half the distance then shouted VanOwen’s name.
He turned and watched me. The flashlight glare lit up his face from below and I could see him smile.
“Well, well,” he said. “Here’s the rifleman, right on time.” He looked me up and down and laughed. “But still no rifle. Maybe you’re a faker.”
“Where’s the girl?”
“I dunno know, man. Hey, don’t stop. Keep on coming.” He laughed. “You know kids are damn hard to keep track of.”
I circled left so I’d have the corral fence close by.
“I thought you said the Feds had Erika,” he said. “But here she is. You lied to me, son.”
“I want that kid.”
“Sure, Tommy Smith,” he said, “sure. And you were gonna trade me that bank code thingy. That was the deal, right?” He laughed. Then he yelled toward the dark shape of the ranch house. “You can come out, now, Li’l Bit. Come say hi.”
I took a few more steps toward them and stopped by the fuel tank. I could see Erika looking at me like I was all that was left in the world. When VanOwen pointed his light at me, I could see three red and yellow plastic gas cans sitting in the dirt, and greasy wet spots where fuel had spilled from the big tank. The padlock from the faucet had been pried off the bent steel hasp and lay in one of the wet spots. When I looked up I could see VanOwen studying me, jiggling the flash in my face.
“Going off-roading?”
“Brush clearing,” he said. He laughed.
I looked over to Erika. “Shoulda stayed put.”
“I know,” she said. “But Buddy …”
“One of these days you’ll have to let big brother sink or swim.”
I turned to VanOwen to be sure he was looking me in the eye. “Erika being here doesn’t change anything. FBI’s on their way.”
“They got nothing on me,” he said.
“Don’t count on it.”
I squinted into the dark for Audie as VanOwen called her name. It took a minute before she drifted out of the shadows. She stopped before she got near any of us. I walked towards her kind of sideways, keeping my eye on VanOwen. When I got to her, I took a knee and she put her arms around my neck. I heard VanOwen say, “Awww.”
Audie looked over my shoulder at Erika, who stood with VanOwen seventy feet away. He kept a hand tight around her arm.
“That’s her again, right?” Audie said. “The spirit lady?”
“I guess so.”
The sleeping bag was stained with mud and grease. Old hay and dried leaves stuck to both the outside and the lining. I picked up a corner of it and tried to whisper.
“Is this what the lady asked you to guard?”
“Yeah,” Audie said. “How’d you know?” She watched Erika with tears in her eyes. “You think she’s mad? I tried to keep it nice but it kinda looks like shit now.”
“No. It’s just fine. Can I take a peek at it?”
She nodded and handed it to me. I felt around inside, poking and squeezing the fleecy lining. I could feel bits of twig and hay and grit, but nothing like Erika had described to Sarah and me. No computer gizmo. No hardware. Nothing that was the key to a million bucks. I looked up when I heard VanOwen laugh.
“Looking for this, dude?” he said. He held up something small. I guessed it to be Erika’s thumb drive, the metal tip of it catching a bit of light from his flash for just an instant. He laughed just as nasty as he could. “Sorry, rifleman, looks like you got nothin’ left to trade for.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
I stood up and pulled Audie close.
“You get the drive. I get the kid. That’s it. That was the deal.”
“You were late,” he said. “The kid stays.” He pulled an automatic from his hoodie pocket and motioned Audie over.
“You guys are all mad at me,” Audie said. She was whimpering as she shuffled back to VanOwen. “I never knew nothin’ was in the bag, honest, Sonny.”
“How did you know where I hid it?” Erika said. Her voice had fear in it. She’d lost her ace in the hole. She turned to me like VanOwen wasn’t there. “I … I tho
ught it was the perfect hiding place. You know, in plain sight.”
“Your brother told me, you dumb bitch,” Sonny said. “So you must’ve told him. Buddy was trying to sell me out. First with you, then with Mister Sniper, here.” He laughed. “Buddy even had me thinking that the rifleman was your boy, not him.”
“Where is he?” Erika said. She asked it like she was afraid of the answer. He didn’t give her one.
“Let her go. You got what you wanted from her.”
“Ohhh, not by a long shot,” he said.
“What else can she give you?”
“A life,” he said.
I caught of glimpse of Jack poking his head up from behind the postpile, then I turned back to VanOwen. “Better just get your ass down the road before more law shows up.”
“Oh, I’m goin’. Tiny found out at the FBI camp just what you told me—they’d quit buying Buddy’s story that the little trick in the bog was his sister. They were going for a full autopsy, so it was time for me to boogie.” He laughed. “I got my bags packed and my boarding pass”—he held up the thumb drive—“so vaya con dios, shitkicker.”
“One question.” I was just stalling for time. “What was your guy Flaco doing with the old pistol?”
VanOwen laughed. “Dumb sonofabitch never fired a gun in his life. He was only up there in case Tiny passed out from the strain. Walkin’ that last couple of miles. He wanted to pack a gun like the big boys, so I figured what the hell. Saved me the trouble of getting rid of him later.”
I hollered Jack’s name and VanOwen pointed his flash in the direction I’d hollered. Jack stood up with his 12 gauge.
“If it ain’t the goddamn wagon-burner,” VanOwen said. “How’s the ear, Tonto?”
Jack was a scary looking guy when he was pissed.
“That Twister Creed was a damn fine shot.” VanOwen tapped his ear, then turned to me. “But not so smart, huh dude?”
“He was a better man than a pimp like you.”
“Aaaw. But now he’s dead, ain’t he.” He kind of shrugged. “Well, there’s more where he came from,” he said. “Hey, Tiny. Start the ball.” He grinned and pulled Audie close.
We turned towards where VanOwen was watching. There was a flash and the ranch house started to glow from the inside out, first white like headlights, then yellow, then orange. The yard where we were standing began to light up, too. I could see the poplars from below now, branch by branch. I looked at orange flame growing in the downstairs windows. That explained the gas cans over by the fuel tank. The white flash faded, and the yard darkened a bit as the first flames ate across the downstairs. There was another sound besides the rush of oxygen into breaking windows as the house caught. It took me a second. The sound I was hearing was Erika moaning, the air rushing out of her, not in.
“No!” she said. “How can you?”
I grabbed her by the arm as she ran by, heading for the house. It was her bad arm and she yelped when I did, so I let go. She stepped next to me just watching the house, the flames lighting her face. I turned back to VanOwen. He was staring at the fire growing, just as excited as a kid. Audie tried to jerk away, but he held on tight. He wasn’t even looking at her, but this seemed like a dance the two of them had danced before.
Erika shrieked at him. “Where is my brother?”
When VanOwen started taunting Erika, I saw Audie kick him in his gimpy leg and run off into the dark. He hobbled backwards, closer to the fuel tank, and yelled Tiny’s name again.
“Get the goddamn Indian.”
I heard the double-clack of a pump shotgun in the near shadows and saw Audie running back into the firelight towards me. I grabbed her and hit the dirt as buckshot ripped into the fence boards just over our heads. Splinters raked across my hat brim and I heard another shell jacked into a chamber, this one like it was right behind me. I tensed as a second round exploded.
Then the house in front of us just erupted. It went from a fire that could be put out to one that couldn’t. In front of me flame jumped up past the roof. Then all the light pointed in a single direction, and the bright orange was all you saw. The rest was just black, the man with the shotgun moving between me and the fire, just a silhouette. I turned my back to the flame and got a good look at whatever had been behind me. I could see the fuel tank against the fence and see Jack rising up from the postpile to fire his 12 gauge. The glow from the house shined on his dark face, and I could see the colors of his uniform shirt and jeans clear as day. He ducked and ran past me toward the house as Tiny fired. I held Audie tight, keeping my body between her and the shotgun duel raging just in front of us, two moving silhouettes against the orange, with red and silver flashes of muzzle blast marking their path. Buckshot tore into sheds and corrals and clanged into the flat end of the fuel tank, the sound hollow and echoing. There was a second’s pause, then I heard the sound of another shell being chambered. Then the only sounds were the close-by trickling of gasoline from the punctured tank as it dribbled into the dirt, and the farther-away roar of the burning house. Jack rose up, his silhouette still outlined by the flames.
I could hear VanOwen laugh, then saw him step out of the shadows with his flashlight. The beam swung towards where the shots were fired and lit up Tiny stumbling toward us. He took half a dozen steps then hit the dirt beard-first, the shotgun still in one fist, his leathers covered in blood. In the light of the flames I could see that the stock of the shotgun had been sawed off right to the pistol grip, a wanna-be badass modification of a cheap piece that probably looked cool in The Nogales parking lot.
Moving slow, Jack walked out of the blackness to Audie and me, watching Tiny’s body, wary and ready to get to it again if he had to.
I stood and pulled Audie up with me. VanOwen was shining his flash into the dark places. I looked around and couldn’t see Erika anywhere. I hadn’t seen her since before Jack and Tiny started swapping buckshot. VanOwen heaved his body around, pivoting on his cane planted in the mud. He pulled the automatic and pointed it at my head. I pushed Audie behind me. Jack kept the shotgun in his right fist leveled at VanOwen’s middle. We each stood about thirty feet apart. A stand-off.
“The girl,” VanOwen said. “I’m not leaving without her.”
“Where’s Erika? Looks like now I got Audie and you got nothin’.”
He looked pissed. He scanned the yard with his light again and called Erika’s name. It was another minute till we saw her. She walked to the edge of the firelight and stopped, just a motionless shape. VanOwen called her name a second time, and she came striding into the light towards him. She looked semi-crazed and tried to beat his face with her fists, though she could hardly reach that high. He grabbed both wrists and said something in her ear as she yelped. Then he laughed as she tried to pull away and kick him at the same time. Finally, she stopped trying to punch him and just stared at the house disappearing behind shimmery thirty-foot flames, the pattern of the fire swirling over us all. She walked toward the house and stopped near the porch, taking a step back from the awful heat. She yelled something that might have been her brother’s name, then howled.
“What have you done to us?”
She turned three-sixty like she was falling through solid ground. Then she ran into the house.
VanOwen didn’t try to stop her. I couldn’t be sure, but I thought I saw him smile. The rest of us couldn’t stop her. She was gone too fast.
There was a last scream from Erika, muffled and faraway as she stumbled deep into the fire and disappeared. In just that instant she was gone. Even a hard guy like VanOwen had to turn to look. A northbound pickup hummed around the bend in the road, its headlights sending his long shadow and the shadow of the fuel tank rippling across the ground one last time. Then darkness swept the shadows away and VanOwen was gone too. Audie put her arms around my neck and squeezed hard. Her crying turned into heaving sobs as she watched the flames.
“How does the spirit lady live in that?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know
.”
I saw Jack flinch as a blast of orange sparks poured from a downstairs window. We heard another smash of breaking glass as a window popped out from the heat, followed by the shrieking, tearing sound like an upstairs floor or wall giving way. It could’ve been a beam pulling apart from the rest of the framing, or Erika dying, or just that whole family and their history and everything they’d built and lived for vanishing in front of us. The heat caused its own currents. Wispy funnels of smoke spun around the edges of the fire, then rose into the hot air like ghosts.
“Holy shit,” Jack said. “What the hell—?”
“She thought her brother was inside.”
I turned after I said that in time to see Jack drop to the ground. I had to let go of Audie as I ran over to him. When I was still ten feet off I could see his left arm and ribs oozing blood. Tiny must’ve got off a clear shot after all. Jack opened his eyes as I checked him out.
“Just a few nicks,” he said. He squirmed to ease the pain. “I know you didn’t want the kid in a crossfire and all, but your dad’s Remington might be a good idea now.” He said it like we were talking over coffee, but he was panting hard. When he coughed, it looked like it about killed him.
“No shit, pal.”
I checked the wounds a second time, then took off my jacket and covered him with it. When I looked to where I’d left Audie, she’d wandered off again. I turned back to Jack. He was holding his left arm with his right hand and staring at movement by the equipment shed.
“She’s over there,” he said.
Headlights popped on behind the shed and began to move.
“Can you hang on another minute?”
Jack nodded. “Go,” he said.
I ran for the postpile to grab my rifle. Either Fuchs or Sarah had to be close, with medical teams not far behind.